#to be clear I'm not implying that any of this is news to you

[gothhabiba]

Forgive me if this is a bad take but like. If one wanted to like. Do outfits based on where you're going. Why not just buy some when you get there? Like. Surely that's in budget for "go to a country across the world", gets you something more authentic, does the "supports the economy" thing people always claim tourism does (without exclusively supporting the tourism economy, in this case) and like. Isn't just broadcasting your preconceived notions.

I get what you're saying! I do think buying clothing in a specific place makes sense. though there are drawbacks to that plan for anyone who has really specific needs with regards to what clothing they wear.

I'd question what "authenticity" really is or means, though. the thing is that there are malls in Morocco (and a lot of other places) that sell clothing from major global brands. for better or for worse, the global export of "Western" fashion has impacted what people wear almost everywhere on Earth. you could buy blue jeans and a moto jacket from any random Zara in the US or Europe and you would look more "Moroccan" than someone chasing a made-up idea of "Moroccan"-ness, whether they're purchasing those clothes inside or outside of Morocco.

"authenticity" is a trap that destroys what it searches for. it can only ever chase after the ideal, the stagnant, the atavistic. if it cannot find what it searches for (because tourists and industry, in encroaching further into areas they deem "remote" to find the "untouched" and "authentic," by their own logic deplete the exhaustible resource of "authenticity" that they imagine exists), it creates it—there's a "race to the bottom" where anything familiar is deemed inauthentic (even if it "really" represents the lives of people in a certain location), and anything bizarre, odd, strange, or gross is deemed authentic (even if it really doesn't). people in "remote" villages in Africa straight-up invent fake weird rituals to satiate this desire amongst Western tourists and photographers. you see a similar pattern with food culture.

there's this idea that you travel to "explore," that there's something daring and intrepid about going specifically to certain locales, because you're encountering the unfamiliar and becoming "cultured" and learning more about different people. yet in order for this self-concept of "daring" and "intrepid" to hold, what you encounter must be sufficiently shocking. white / Western people will travel to a "third-world" country supposedly in order to expand or challenge their own expectations, and then get angry and complain whenever they don't find exactly what they already expected!

to return to the question at hand—you're going to be able to find kaftan and gndourat and djellabat and blaghi in the souaaq of any city, yes. whether these are "authentic" "Moroccan" garments is a more philosophical question, as many of these shops primarily cater to tourists and sell garments in a Moroccan style that have in fact been imported from China... and, because the shops stock what sells, and tourists buy what they like, and they like what they already expected to see, the shops are geared towards what Westerners associate with "Morocco"... meanwhile, many of the garments that e.g. Zara stocks in their European stores were in fact assembled in Morocco! so what constitutes an "authentic," "Moroccan" garment, exactly?

#to be clear I'm not implying that any of this is news to you #just following my train of thought #travel #authenticity #mine

[selineram3421]

*sleepy*

Courting Pursuit

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠

You continued to act affectionate towards him.

Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.

Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.

The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.

"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.

Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.

And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.

"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"

What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.

"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.

Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.

"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."

"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"

"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.

"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"

"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."

"Childish!?"

"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ￦θrs€ than death."

"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"

"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"

He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.

Something still irked him however..

Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.

As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.

Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.

Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.

"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."

"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.

"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.

"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.

He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.

She dead pans.

"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.

"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"

She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?

He should have spoken up about it from the start.

It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.

Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.

You perk up when noticing him.

"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)

"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.

Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.

Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.

Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.

"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)

"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."

With that you took a step back.

"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)

Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.

"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)

He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.

With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.

Sad times means cookies.

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @sleep-7372 @wat4r @lustylita @xdolls-crownx @lonelysimp18 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @dap11 @al1fers-haven @futureittomainn @random-3455 @+?

ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

#deer reader #mule deer reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #x reader #gn reader #alastor x reader #tw threats #implied/suggestive #vox being a stalker #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie #overlord rosie #overlord vox #angel dust mentioned #😭 #the rejection... #Vox is totally jealous

[blondephenobarbitol]

I'm thinking about the implications again.

The numbers that the hive mind performs aren't random. Both the lyrics and the choreography will often boil down to to one purpose: to cause pain. (Pokey is ruthless.)

Sometimes it's physical, and that's easy to spot. The cops spend half of their song just kicking and pushing people to the ground. Join Us And Die literally ends with Ted getting beat up.

And when the choreography doesn't allow for it, the lyrics are specifically trying to elicit an emotional response. The hive uses Alice to torment Bill. He's watching someone he loves die in front of him. It does the same for Charlotte.

Okay, the hive gets a kick out watching people suffer. That's not new information. But the implications...

Look at Inevitable. It's a pretty significant shift from the rest of the numbers. Whereas those seem tailored for pain and fear, Inevitable seems to be comforting? Just look.

Paul walks out, and the first thing he does is hug Emma. Which doesn't seem significant at first, but think: Did Bill get that same courtesy?

Alice's first line is meant to taunt Bill. Paul's is almost consolatory; " Emma / I'm sorry / you lost." I won't dissect this completely, the theory is that this first line is genuine. Paul is actually sorry that their plan failed.

And when you take a look at the choreography, it becomes clear that it's a lot kinder than the other songs.

We see Paul waltzing with Emma and kissing her hands. And even though he's not letting her get away, he's not trying to hurt her. He's not even trying to intimidate her. He's shown more than once bending down--getting on her level, like you would to a child--as opposed to towering over her.

The lyrics aren't messing with her either. Whereas Sam is manipulative and Alice is spiteful, Paul's lyrics are reassuring.

"I'm still the man you trust," is a lot different than "Don't you twust me?" when you get right down to it. It carries with it a connotation of 'I'm okay, and you will be too.'

"What if I told you I made it?" actively contradicts the 'I killed your loved one' narrative that Alice used with Bill.

It's not like Emma is buying any of it. She's still terrified. Paul doesn't need to hurt her or taunt her in order to scare her, just singing was enough. But it's clear that he's not trying to.

The hive mind gets a kick out of watching people suffer. Emma is the leading lady. You'd think that she's the one who should have the most brutal song. But she just doesn't. It seems like her song is trying to be the kindest.

We know it's implied that once they get infected, people are still conscious inside their musical doppelgängers (source: the line "your own body is your front row seat" as well as Sam breaking through its control long enough to say "Charlotte" before falling back under).

I think Paul was conscious during Inevitable. I think he knew that they weren't escaping this. I think he knew he was eventually going to kill Emma, and there was nothing he could do about it. But I think he didn't want her to suffer.

Instead, I think he resolved to give her as kind a death as he could. He would lie. He'd tell her he was happy and that she was safe. He'd be as gentle as the hive mind allowed. She was running out of time, so he'd love her with every second they had left.

(but that's just a theory...a musical theory... and cut)

#tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #emma perkins #paul matthews #starkid #team starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #lords in black #pokotho #pokey #npmd #black friday #theory #scene analysis #analysis #lauren lopez #jon matteson #jeff blim

[txttletale]

h… how is any of that racist

assuming that you mean my posts about the 5e monster manual entry for orcs and how insanely racist it is--by happy coincidence i have a bunch of sources about this strewn haphazardly across my browser so i'm happy to answer this.

so we will start with this. the words 'tribe' and 'chief' are deeply, deeply racialised. they have been used throughout colonial (and well into modern and present-day!) history to describe groups of indigenous peoples across the world—with implications of 'primitive' people and societies within the Western myth of linear societal progress. europeans have nations and kings--africans and native americans have tribes and chiefs. the 'tribe' is not a neutral concept--it is a concept that was constructed by europeans in positions of global military domination over a century to justify a narrative about the linear progress of civilization to justify domination [1][2]. of course, it's not just the use of the words 'tribe' or 'chief' but their deployment here in the context of what is obviously supposed to be a 'primitive' method of of government--the 'orcish tribe' is inherently violence, a 'savage' society entirely built on "bloodlust" and "fear"

regis stella puts it much better than i could in this account of an early 20th-century travel memoir in Imagining the Other: The Representation of the Papua New Guinean Subject

while we're on this point i figure i'll add all the other language around 'savagery', 'inherent bloodlust' and so on in the monster manual here to further illustrate my point: it's all quite rote and repeats itself a lot.

now, wait, waiiiit, wait a second. wait a moment. hold up what was that last thing

oh thats not good. having to explain why this is racist feels a little like having to explain why its bad to hit people with hammers but i'll do it anyway: the comparison of real-life 'tribes' of people to insects, vermin, and pestilences is a very real element of genocidal rhetoric--from the holocaust [3] to the rwandan genocide [4]. what is the implied correct societal responose to a tribe that is 'like a plague?'

finally, this is the part that made me say "holy fucking shit this is in the 5th edition monster manual?" because it is pure undiluted gygaxian eugenics shit. first of all, the narrative of the ever-swelling horde, the indigenous or Asian people as an undiffernetiated mass of amorphous Other, is an old one and one that's been used to devalue the lives of people of colour and justify violence against 'the horde'. but the part that's absolutely jaw-dropping is the use of the tropes of reproductive racism--the narrative of Black and indigenous hyperfecundity is also an established racist trope, one which was instrumental in the forced sterilisation of Black and Native women in the USA [5] and now manifests itself in the "great replacement" demographic anxieties of modern racism [6] -- think of White Genocide conspiracy theories and the 14 Words. and of course that is to say nothing of the fact that is made very clear and reiterated (and mechanicised in the form of the Half-Orc player race!) that WotC wants to be very clear about how much orcs "readily crossbreed with other races". this is miscegenation anxiety, plain and simple--somethign else stella talks about.

so yeah! hopefully nobody will ever ask me this fucking question again! (this is just across two fucking pages of the monster manual by the way don’t get me started on the shit that’s in the other books! god forbid i even think about campaign modules!!)

#ask #ttrpg #dnd #orc discourse

[galedekarios]

gale & his mother, morena dekarios

i thought it'd be nice to have a place to compile everything i could find about gale's mother, morena dekarios.

the first time you as the player get a vague mention about gale's parents is after saving mirkon, when gale brings up a story about his parents denying him a kitten when he was still a child:

Gale: One time my parents denied me akitten, so I summoned myself a tressym.

if you play a gale origin playthrough, you get a mention of her much earlier from tara, after she joins the camp.

this is a camp dialogue with its variants from act i:

Tara the Tressym: Well, if it isn't my favourite fellow himself. Player: How are things back in Waterdeep? Tara the Tressym: More or less the same - though news of some mad faction calling themselves 'Absolutists' is starting to trickle in. Tara the Tressym: I told your mother not to worry. That if they were anything to worry about, Baldur's Gate would handle things quick-sharp. Keep them from spreading their tendrils north. She still wants to know when she'll see you again, sir. I avoid giving any answers. But she misses you. Player: I miss her too. Tara the Tressym: I'll tell her. With my Cat Flap of Displacement, I can afford the occasional visit. I'd bring you along, if I could. Perhaps some day. - Player: I can't risk putting her in danger. Tara the Tressym: I know that, but she doesn't. She'd keel over if she knew just how you'd tried to manipulate the Weave. Or maybe she'd just say something like, 'My Gale always was one to make the impossible possible.' Oh, but she adores you. - Player: No more guilt trips, Tara. Please. Tara the Tressym: But then whatever will we talk about? Anyhow - I'm keeping my senses pricked for any sign of another item that might be of use to you. Hopefully something will turn up soon.

it's clear from the dialogue that gale's mother worries about him and loves him - adores him, really.

it also becomes clear that she doesn't know what happened to gale and that he nor tara has not told her.

another mention from act i, again from tara:

Tara the Tressym: Please tell me you've at least made inroads when it comes to finding someone to settle down with. Myself and Mrs Dekarios are starting to think you intend to die alone. Player: You've been visiting my mother? Tara the Tressym: Naturally. After you abandoned her, there was only me left to keep her company. She's very good company, though. Ah, the stories we've traded over toast and tea. You're a highly entertaining source of speculation. But speculation only goes so far! Tell me, Mr Dekarios - how have you been?

tara and morena are implied to have tea together regularly enough to trade stories about gale. tara is implied to be a sort of messenger between the two of them, likely after gale's isolation and subsequent abduction by the nautiloid, keeping morena informed, yet without revealing gale's secret and shame.

the devnotes also state that tara loves morena - high praise since other devnotes states that tara hates everyone except gale - and that she talks of her in an affectionate tone.

this is a dialogue in act ii after mystra has tasked gale to use the orb the moment he finds the heart of the absolute:

Tara the Tressym: Promise me, Gale. Promise me you'll find another way. Promise me you'll return home, when this is all over. Player: I can't make that promise, Tara. Tara the Tressym: You're going to kill me. And your mother. And then there'll be no one to mourn you when you've wasted yourself for no good reason at all.

i find it very interesting here in terms of other relationships that tara explicitly says that there will be no one to mourn gale except morena and her should he heed mystra's instructions and sacrifice himself. it speaks of the bond between tara, morena and gale - but also even more of gale's isolation and loneliness. we know from tara that she considers herself to be gale's only old friend and gale echoes as much. we also know that gale describes the dekarios family as the dekarios clan, that is "scattered" far and wide.

at the same time, the loud silence about gale's father becomes really apparent again. a while ago, i speculated about gale's father and i truly do still think that he abandoned morena and gale.

another snippet from an act ii convo, before gale reveals the details of elminster's letter to tara (or chosing to keep it to himself):

Tara the Tressym: I'm not one to pry. I'd rather make up all the juicy details myself over tea with your mother.

which again ties in with a similar line from act i, further cementing the fact that this is a regular thing between tara and morena.

still in act ii, tara says this if gale asks her if she'll still love him if he is a mindflayer:

Player: Will you love me when I'm a mind flayer? Tara the Tressym: Depends. Are mind flayers warm-blooded? If so, my prize napping spot on your lap won't be compromised. In which case, I suppose we could find an accord. And, of course, your mother would still think you a prince, no matter how many tentacles you had. And with a nautiloid, you may even manage to visit her more often.

again, gale's mother truly adores him. tara is utterly convinced she'd love him even if he'd turn into a mind flayer. at the same time, the dialogue again hammers home the fact that gale's been keeping his distance from his mother after he has acquired the orb.

the following lines are a compilation of some of tara's lines from act iii, all once again stating that she is a messenger between gale and morena, keeping morena informed about gale's well-being, while also looking after morena in gale's absence from waterdeep:

Tara the Tressym: You're almost at the end of this, Gale. You're nearly there. And not a moment too soon. Myself, I must away to Waterdeep. Your mother will be worried silly not to have heard from either of us - and now I can bring her the good news. When this is all over I'll be waiting for you, with a crackling fire and good book at the ready. Good luck, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'm well past due to return to Waterdeep. I'm going to tell your mother that you'll be home soon. Don't make a liar of me, darling. - Tara the Tressym: I'll have to make up some good news for your dear mother, then. I'm going home, Gale. To look after Mrs Dekarios, and to remind you that there are people waiting for you in Waterdeep.

going back to companion gale, the next mention of gale's mother after saving mirkon, is from gale in an ambient with karlach:

Gale: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep? Karlach: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say... a long way away.devnote Gale: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway.

it echoes the lines of dialogue that origin gale has, believing he endangers his mother with his condition and thus keeping his distance.

gale mentions his mother in an act iii dialogue after meeting tara on the rooftop of the open hand temple:

Gale: My tower in Waterdeep boasts an excellent kitchen and a wine cellar to rival Ondal himself. Not to mention a larder stocked with my homemade hundur sauce. Player: Hundur sauce? Gale: A Waterdhavian delicacy, spiced to leave exactly the right amount of heat lingering on the tongue, and served with that most sharp-toothed of aquarian residents, the quipper fish. I make it to my mother's recipe. It packs quite a wallop. As does she.

we know that gale's the designated camp cook from a conversation with wyll, and i think the conversation makes it fair to assume that gale's mother taught him how to cook.

still, maybe it's because i'm not a native english speaker and i might be missing some cultural context here, but the line "it packs quite a wallop. as does she." stuck out to me:

wallop. to hit something / someone hard.

this could mean that gale's seen her hit someone and packing quite a punch behind it. with what's been described of morena so far, i doubt it's because gale's ever been on the receiving end of that.

or perhaps it's less literal and more in relation to her seemingly larger than life personality that gale also hints at later, describing his mother as "intimitable" and "sometimes unavoidable". this description is from the following conversation that is currently sadly still bugged:

Player: So your last name is Dekarios? Gale: It is. Courtesy of my mother, the inimitable, dare I say it sometimes unavoidable, Morena Dekarios. It's been so long since I've used it. 'Gale Dekarios' cut a poor figure next to the wizard prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep'. Player: Gale Dekarios... I think I like him more. Gale: You like to many things about me I'd have sooner discarded... Your generosity is quite wonderful. Gale Dekarios likes you too. Very, very much. Though let's keep his exitence between ourselves for now. - Player: Doesn't your matter mind? Gale: Oh, she's happy if I'm happy. Morena couldn't care one jot what I call myself. Tara's the real stickler for using it. Has done since I summoned her. I'd prefer you not follow her exmaple, if that's all the same to you. 'Gale' is more than sufficient. - Player: You're right. Just 'Gale is better. Gale: I agree. And on the plus side, if I get myself into any truly cataclystic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

i love this banter so much and it makes me very sad that larian still hasn't fixed the issue of it not triggering. there's so much lore to explore here:

from gale dropping 'dekarios' in favour of 'of waterdeep', at first, to appear perhaps more grandiose, more suited to the ambitions he held when he was younger, to morena, apparently, not minding it, yet tara clinging to 'dekarios' (perhaps to keep gale's feet on solid ground as much as she could), to finally finding out that the reason that the gale we meet now is not using 'dekarios' still is because he doesn't wish to tarnish his family name should he indeed fall victim to the orb.

the last mention gale makes of his mother is during his act iii post final battle dialogue, in which he proposes to the player:

Gale: That being said, I wondered if you might consider accompanying me back to Waterdeep as a new member of the Dekarios clan? Player: Are you asking me to marry you? Gale: I suppose I am. Tara would be delighted. Not to mention my mother. But I'd be just as happy without such ceremony, so long as we're together.

this again mirrors what tara has been saying in her dialogue with an origin gale in act i: that morena and her were hoping he would find someone to find happiness with.

i think overall, even with only the very few bits and pieces we learn of morena, it's easy to tell that she truly loves and adores and cares her son, and that that love and care is clearly echoed back from gale to morena.

still, or perhaps more likely because of that love, gale keeps his secrets and his distance to morena because of the orb and the shame he feels he brought to his family.

it's all too easy to imagine that he wishes her to be proud of him and that he feels he has disappointed her and given her little reason to be proud of him in the same vein that he feels he has done with tara:

Gale: She'd [Tara] be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I've given her little to be proud of recently.

anyhow, i hope i caught all mentions and that this was helpful to someone. 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #morena dekarios #tara the tressym #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #ch: morena dekarios #ch: tara the tressym #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

[magicalink]

Do they fuck or do they make love?

Headcanons with no specific AU! Mainly character x reader but it ended up implying character x character ships too in sime characters. I wrote this headcanons and when I was reading them to my boyfriend (who is my only beta reader) he started giving his opinions about them and I found his comments absolutely hilarious so I decided to include them! 🤣 First go my headcanons about the character and then my boyfriend's comments indented. Some of them are unhinged 🤣

Venti: Depends on the partner and the situation. He adores making delicate love to you but he's always up for a quickie in the middle of the house, the forest, anywhere and anytime you're willing. And oh Archons, is he intense when he does any of the two! He likes sex to be THE experience, and he tends to be over the top when it comes to it. Also an uncontrollable moaning machine.

Bf: Nah, he fucks. All the time. Cuz he is drunk all the time. We all know his only love is alcohol. I agree on the moaning machine part though, he is loud and doesn't care if others hear.

Diluc: Makes love. He has no time for sex if it's not with the love of his life. Doing it with him is a ceremony to remember. Expect long sessions full of kisses, heartwarming confessions, and body worshipping.

Bf: Accurate. Total gentleman. He only makes love. And possibly the first time you do it he will propose to you the morning after.

Childe: Fucks. He is all in for the adrenaline and pleasure in life, whether it's battle or it's lust. He wants to dive in and feel as much as he can,the more intense and dangerous, the better.

Bf: A fucking degenerate. He loves violence and competition and if he doesn't get it in sex then he's not interested. More of a masochist than a sadist, don't be surprised if you fight him and he ends up insinuating sexually to you. Especially if you're winning the fight. He wants to get beaten up. To sum up, he has a very weird way of "making love"...

Xiao: Makes love. To him, it's something sacred that should be shared with the people you love and respect the most. Will worship every inch of your body and be desperate to convey his feelings to you. Will focus completely on your pleasure, so make sure to calm him down and reward him a bit too!

Bf: Turbo virgin who self cock blocks all the time. He is always afraid: of hurting you, of making you uncomfortable, of saying something wrong, of looking at the wrong place...If you moan he asks you if you're okay. He gets soft all the time because he is afraid of hurting you. He has suicidal thoughts half the encounter. But yeah he makes love.

Albedo: Who knows, really. He's still studying what's the difference between the two. And he sure is doing an experiment and carefully studying it when he has sex with you. To be perfectly clear, he loves you, but this whole thing about sex and human relationships is new to him so he's trying to understand all these new feelings. 

Bf: "Making love? Fucking? What is that? I'm the chalkman." Doesnt have a dick and if he had, he is not interested in human relationships at all. But if you manage to fuck him he would be writing down notes about it the whole time.

Scaramouche: Fucks because he thinks giving in to love will make him weak.💔

Bf: Fucks and he only thinks about his mommy issues while doing it. He only fucks to dissociate. And if you treat him with basic human kindness he will start seeing you as a maternal figure so be careful.

Wanderer: Now understands that lying about his feelings is the true form of weakness and doesn't want to waste a single more second of life, he makes love to you making sure he makes crystal clear how he feels about you: in the most explicit, toe-curling, fluid dropping way he can. If you like it hard, prepare to be smacked until you can't sit the following day.

Bf: He's gone to therapy so the mommy issues are better but he's still annoying af. He plays hard to get and pretends not to be committed but the truth is he's just being tsundere and hiding the fact that he is eating from the palm of your hand.

Kazuha: Makes the finest comfiest love in the world. Fucks like a horndog when he's drunk or high but won't stop telling you how crazily he loves you while doing it.

Bf: He is high af the vast majority of the time and during sex, it's no exception. If you manage to fuck him sober he will be the super reflexive and emotional type that cries during sex. But he fucks you lovely but won't make love to you, he only makes love with the love of his life Tomo, the rest of you are his cattle. He's a super friendly guy so after sex he will share his weed with you.

Gorou: He's a gentleman who wants to become good at making love but is extremely shy and gets flustered easily so he fucks sloppily. An adorable sight to behold!

Bf: I agree he is a little gentleman.

Tighnari: Makes love. Except when he's in heat. Then you have to be prepared if you wanna handle him. 

Bf: another stoner. He would experiments with aphrodisiacs all the time, makimg them into weird salts or sth.

Cyno: Very similar to his jokes. He's completely sure he's giving his best at making love to you or Tighnari and showing you his devotion, but his poker face, stoic manners, and scary appearance make him look like he's angry fucking you. He doesn't get what he's doing wrong and doesn't do it on purpose. But it doesn't matter since you know him very well and not only are you used to his antics but you also have become sensitive to his very subtle changes of expression.

Bf: He can't help bit to tell bad jokes when he fucks. Self cockblocks himself all the time: either he goes soft in the middle of the act because he's laughing at his own jokes or he makes so cringy jokes that his partner gets uncomfortable and leaves. He can't help it, if he doesn't get them our he will explode.

Itto: Fucks wildly but it's his way of making love. He is just too brute to control the size and strength of his body, especially when he is under the effect of the feral feelings he has for you. 

He loves you so much he can't help but to pick you up like you're a potato sack and swirl you in the air like you are a rag doll and take you with him everywhere. When he hugs you he leaves you breathless, when he kisses you he leaves you all sloppy and when he fucks you…well he leaves you sore for weeks but let's say it's totally worth it!

Bf: totally disagree! It would be so hard to fuck him, he would be clueless and friend zone or family zone you all the time. If you tell him you wanna be more than friends he would say "Superfriends??" With the biggest smile. And if you manage to fuck him he would be super careful, he knows he is a brute and is scared of hurting you.

Thoma: Makes super lovey-dovey love. Always double-checks if you're comfortable and enjoying the experience. Knowing he's making you feel good makes him glad and arouses him so don't be shy and tell him if he's doing it well!

Bf: nononono, absolutely wrong, you're blinded by his looks. He is a degenerate masochist and he only fucks Ayato. They have this weird dynamic where he literally acts as his dog.

Ayato: Another one who depends on the partner and situation. Honestly, he's so overworked that he desperately needs a good fuck. Ok maybe many of them. But not only he doesn't have the time, but also he can't be seen sleeping around due to his political position, so probably he'll only get to have sex when he finally finds the person he wants to marry. He hopes to be able to marry someone he actually loves instead of marrying for political reasons. So if you're the lucky one, expect heated sessions of lovemaking from this touch-starved man! Also, he'll love you but that doesn't mean he's gonna stop being a merciless tease 👀

Bf: Degenerate sadist who only has eyes for Thoma and makes him go through so much weird stuff they don't even remember what is to have normal sex. Tying him up and putting him on a leash is the most normal thing out of what they do.

Kaeya: Fucks. He lives for the spectacle and the mystique of it. Also, he's super popular around Mondstadt and wherever he goes so he sleeps around a lot. He has tons of admirers from both sexes and he makes sure to reward their love and devotion. He knows exactly how to please people, how to exacerbate his natural beauty and how to leave them crazy for him. He's simply so erotically natured. Probably the most experienced guy you know in the field. 

Bf: Agree. Turbo slut. No more comments needed. If he manages to open his heart he can be sensitive. But that only happened once and it was with his own reflection in a mirror.

Heizou: Fucks lovingly 💕 He loves teasing and making his partner flustered. People and relationships are simply so fun and fascinating to him. And when he gets to be sexually intimate with someone it's even better! If you end up involved with him, be prepared to be taken to your limits.

Bf: Another degenerate. Probably makes you pretend you're a criminal to chase you around town. Pretty sadistic and I can imagine him having yandere tendencies. A cool guy though. When he is not horny.

Al Haitam: Zero interested in the matter. Until he met you. He is learning everything from scratch and even though he's always been a fast learner in everything, this subject is particularly hard since he needs to stop rationalizing and let his feelings take control for once. But his feelings for you are pretty intense, so little by little he is learning how to make love to you 💚

Bf: I imagine him as a turbo aspirator 3000. He would suck your soul out of your genitals. If you manage him to make him interested in sex, which is highly unlikely because he is like 0 interested in any kind of human contact. I picture him having sex with Kaveh and Kaveh would be a pillow princess and Haitham despite being the kind of guy who always sits down and just reads books he would be restless in bed, doing all the job and moving him around.

Kaveh: Another sweet-sweet love guy! He'll make sure to treat you like a princess and spoil you rotten in and out of the bedroom. He'll do the corniest expressions of chivalry but please bear with him, it genuinely comes from his heart. But if you want to see a more sloppy and wrecked side of him, you can always seduce him after he goes to the bar…

Bf: Sassy pillow princess. Or prince? Idk how to say it. He doesn't do anything but he will be all the time criticizing or praising what you do like a talent show judge. "Come on? Is it the first time you suck a cock or what?" You can imagine this kind of behavior is what infuriates Al Haitham and motivates him to go feral and fuck him around the whole house until he shuts the fuck up.

BONUS: This is an old draft but now that Neuvillete and Wriostheley are out, we couldn't let them out! So for this, we are interchanging roles, my bf will give you his headcanons and I will comment!

Bf: I'm 100% sure both Neuvie and Wriot are completely opposite in bed from their personalities in public. Our chivalrous and calm Neuvie is a pasional beast in bed. He is unsatiable, he is a dragon after all. Gives me the same vibes as Zhong Li who acts super calm but when fucking Childe he destroys 3 hotel rooms every night (exactly the type Childe loves. He got a crush on him when he struck him down at Fontaine's court. I'm sure Zhong Li will get jealous when he finds out and we will have some dragon drama going on) Back to Neuvie, he is super feral but he doesn't fuck, he makes love. It's his draconic way of making love. He is also very emotional and if he likes you, after having sex and having calmed down, he will open his wallet and start showing you the pictures of his 300 Melusine daughters and tell you their names and each of their jobs. He is a very proud dad.

Wriothesley loves you from a distance. While you fuck he is super sweet and loving, but during everyday life, he sucks at showing his feelings. He reminds me of the dad of Komi San, super silent but full of love. He communicates through glances (like a dog). Everyone thinks he is a bad boy but he's a super sentimental guy (won't admit it though) If you give him a gift he will treasure it forever and if someone breaks it or steals it from him he will beat them up.

One of his phrases would be "If something happens to my schmoochpsiepups I will kill everyone in Teyvat and then myself," and when he messes up with you for being unable to show his emotions he goes to a karaoke and sings "Baka Mitai" all depressed. He has 0 emotional intelligence and would go there often, crying "Oh, I wanted to tell Y/N how much I love them before they went away and I just groaned 'hmmm' AGAIN 😭😭".

YET ANOTHER BONUS: If Neuvillete and Wriothesley were in a romantic relationship, I'm sure Neuvie would tell him about all of his Melusine daughters. Wriot would act all cold and as if he didn't care but in fact he remembers all their names and thinks about them as his adoptive daughters. Don't be surprised if you walk down the street and see a Melusine falling down and he rescues her and goes to buy her an ice cream cone. He is a proud dad too.

Me: I have no comments. I agree with everything. And Wriot singing Baka Mitai would be amazing, he has the voice of Jotaro and Erwin after all.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Wow this post was longer than intended. AND ONLY NOW I realize we left Lyney and Zhong Li out. I guess bc to me Lyney is kinda teen coded? I feel like they wasted so much husband material making him look so young. I've seen the fandom drawing him as an adult and he looks so hansome. And both my bf and I rambled about Zhong Li but we forgot to include an entry for him 😂 He says it's ok because he's tied to Tartaglia and we spoke about him in Tartaglia's section 😂 God we are a disaster. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the post, whether you found the headcanons hot or my bf's comments funny. He is scared of getting cancelled though 😂

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #scaramouche smut #diluc smut #diluc x reader #scara x reader #albedo x reader #xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #childe x reader #childe smut #neuvillete x reader #gorou smut #gorou x reader #heizou x reader #venti x reader #venti smut #tighnari smut

[caxde]

pretty sounds | steve harrington x reader

summary you and Steve share an apartment while you're both away in Uni, after he had cought you touching yourself, he needs more of you (2.8k)

warnings fem!reader, 18+ mdni this is just smut guys i'm sorry. masturbation (f+m) oral sex (m+f) penetration (p in v) english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

there's a part 1, but it's not needed! this is basically just porn

“Mornin” His raspy morning voice woke you up, your eyes still half closed as you stumbled to the kitchen. 

“Hi.” You had trouble speaking, the sight of him in the early orange light taking your breath away. 

His basketball shorts hung low on his waist, you were certain he wasn’t wearing anything else, the beginning of his hip bones showing as he settled himself against the kitchen counter, giving you a warm smile, water drops on his forehead, his hair still wet from the shower that had woken you up. 

His arms reached out to you, a mug of coffee in his hand for you, you nodded as you took it, an implied thank you that he smiled at. 

Steve was feeling a bit more confident than he did the day before. Hearing you scream his name as you were touching yourself, unaware that he could hear you crystal clear. and loud. 

Maybe that’s why he didn’t bother to put a shirt on, or maybe he just wanted to see how you reacted. 

He chuckled to himself when he saw the way you flustered as you came into the kitchen, with your oversized faded shirt that you always wore to bed, and your hair a wild mess that he wanted to bury his hands in. 

“Didn’t hear you coming last night.” You said as soon as you took your first sip of coffee, looking up at him, a cocky smile appearing on his face as he looked back at you. 

“Yeah, I um…” His hand was massaging the back of his neck, a nervous tick of him you knew way too well. “I got caught up in the library. You had already showered I think.” 

“Oh, yeah…” You were a bit embarrassed, thought it always seemed to happen when you had fantasized about him the night before. 

Something was different, but you weren’t sure what had happened. 

“Do you got any lessons today?” He asked, taking a step closer to you, your eyes not leaving his. Even if the temptation of not only looking but thristlin all over his body was a breath away.

“M’yeah.” Your words were still sticking together, still not awake, not even sure if this was all a weird dream. “Need to wake up first.” You added as you took another sip of the warm drink he had made for you. 

“You’re really pretty in the morning, honey.” honey. that was new. 

You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he had called you pretty, or honey, but you were turnin redded by the second. But if you were honest, it was the way his thumb had caressed your cheek and your lip briefly. Maybe it was the small moment his eyes had left your so they could look at your lips. 

He left, back to his room. 

You stood there for a minute longer after your cup was empty. 

-

You left three knocks on his door, grabbing your towel tightly. 

“Yeah?!” His voice had a tone of urgency in it, a quickness you weren’t used to. 

“Um, I’m heading to the shower now, if you need the bathroom, go.” You talked to the wooden door, a bit closer than it was probably necessary, but before you could turn your back, it opened, a messy haired Steve appearing inches away from you, his eyes seemed softer lately, especially when they looked at you. 

“I was thinking of taking one.” He gave you an upside down smile, and a weird look that you didn’t understand. His eyes looked darker, no longer like honey, but more like caramel. 

“Oh.” You sounded surprised, and if your voice wasn’t enough, your widened eyes that had been left open gave you away. It was working, Steve thought. 

“What?” His cheery tone made your eyebrows unforrow for a moment, as his arms crossed in front of his chest, his forearm gracing your skin for a brief second. 

“Nothing, just… You never take night showers.” He chuckles as he hears you say it, nodding along to your words. 

“We could share.” He adds, in a successful attempt to make you blush. Your skin filling up with goosebumps as those words reach your ears. 

“Funny.” Your voice comes out drier that you intended it to, turning away from him, embarrassment already present on your body. 

He noticed it immediately. The way you had clenched your jaw, the vein of your neck briefly appearing, your lips pursed together before you nodded. He felt guilty, he had been too cocky when all he was is a big idiot for you. 

His hand grabbed yours as you were turning away, not too far away from him yet, turning your body so you’d face him, and he let his fingers linger on your wrist, a sorry look on his eyes. 

“What?” He whispered, the softness of his voice washing the childish tantrum out of you. 

“Nothing.” You whispered back, but the way his head hangs low, falling to his left side as he gave you that i don’t buy it look, made you realise with no words needed that he required a deeper explanation. “Just, why would you say something like that?” 

Steve isn’t sure what he could do now, or what he should do. 

He could tell you the plain truth, he heard you last night and he wants to be the reason why you scream in such a beautiful way. 

He could stay quiet, and just say that he was kidding and that he’s sorry. 

Or he could just kiss you. 

That last thought invades his mind, how would you feel? How would your lips feel against his? Would you kiss him back? 

Maybe that’s why, in that daze that we has in, your eyes looking up at him, with the smallest begging and the way your lips were parted, that the hand that wasn’t on your wrist finds its way to the back of your neck, and he takes a step closer. 

You can’t quite believe it’s happening, not really. 

Time seems to slow down. The way his head moves closer to you, your heart beating faster as you see him move, his muscles flexing as he does so, your skin getting warmer as your breathing becomes faster, your heartbeat louder. He stops for a second, his nose touching yours, as you enjoy the warmth that his breath leaves on your lips, the way it mixes with yours. Before you could even beg him to, he kisses you. 

As soon as his lips grace yours and you enjoy the softness of them, the hand that was holding your wrist finds its way to the small of your back, burying its fingers there. Soft touches combined with the desperate need you both seemed to share. 

Your hand moved to his jaw in a delicate way, too scared that if you moved too fast this might disappear, that it might not be real anymore. 

You started to play with his hair, as he left deeper, needier kisses on your lips A moan escaping his, the way he sounded and most of all, you being the reason for it, it made your whole skin flourish, the electricity growing stronger each second. 

He lets go of your wrist, both hands now hugging your waist, pulling you closely until your hips meet, his touch becoming a desperate one. Walking slowly back into his room, where the soft study light and the air filled with his smell only made your skin now with goosebumps, every inch were his hands touched your skin now in fire.

The heels of your feet touched the end of his bed, the coldness and the noise it made separating your lips from his. The deepest cheesiest smile on both of your faces, your foreheads still together. 

Before you muttered a word, his fingers slipped between your skin and the sides of your thong, teasing you with the way he pulled on it. In a similar way, in your dazed state you started to play with the neck of his shirt. Your nose touching his, still not sure if this was real.

“That's why” Steve sighted with unfinished pleasure, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I really like you, Steve.” You breathed out, a confession you weren’t conscious you were making. 

“I know.” He answered, finally making eye contact with you, your eyes shining brighter as his were full of desire. “I kinnda heard you, in the shower.” He added suggestively, teasing you as he giggled. 

Your face became various tones of pink, as embarrassment found its way to you. You tried burying your head behind your hands, but he was quicker, instead he pushed his chest so your head would hit it, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Oh no.” You chuckled as you couldn’t believe it.  

“I’ve liked you since before that though.” He whispered into your ear, kissing your temple before he continued talking. “I just wanted to be the one touching you.” His breath brushing your ear, he smelt of the candles you had picked when you first moved in, vanilla and cinnamon. “Especially if you're screaming my name.” 

“Do you still..?” He laughed, an angelic sound pressed to your ear. 

He started to plant kisses along your jawline in response. A desperate whimper escaped your lips as soon as you felt his, needing more of him. All of him. 

Your hands started to mess with his hair, pulling him in deeper, the kisses he left wetter, with a few bites that made you smile with pleasure when you felt them. 

You grabbed the back of his neck, guiding him back to your lips, wanting to feel him again, needing to taste him once more. Before you were aware of it, your hands were messing with his shorts wristband, asking for permission that you already had. You smiled in between kisses when you felt his skin immediately, no underwear on. 

You didn’t need to see him to know he was big, bigger than you expected. You felt a smirk on his lips as he pulled away for a second. 

“That feels…” He was out of breath, his words knotted on his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more. 

“Good?” You ask, as your hand slips back in, wrapping on his cock, his nails digging on your skin. 

“Yes.” He moaned as his head flew back, your lips starting a trail of kisses that began on the back of his ear and finished on his stomach. He shuddered with each one, and seeing you on your knees just made him moan louder. “Fuck me” 

“I’m trying.” You answered, a stupid laugh shared between the both of you, that stopped abruptly as soon as you started kissing him through the thin fabric. 

His hands buried in your hair, caressing you as he guided you, begging you with his touch, a silent way of saying please eat me. 

So you did, you pulled the shorts down, and started licking his tip, licking your lips seeing him from that point of view. Steve, with a crossed look on his eyes, already gone, already imagining how you’ll feel. 

You opened your mouth wide, starting to fill your mouth with him, feeling him twitch as you did so. He needed you more and more as each time his cock entered and exited your mouth made you hungrier for him. 

“Shit, honey.” He mumbled out, as he had trouble staying on his knees, the view that he had a perfect one. “You’re really fuckin good at that.” 

His praise made the exact effect you knew it would have. Made you swallow him whole, feeling his tip on the back of his throat, as his grip became tighter around your hair. 

He used it to pull you up, kissing you while he tasted a bit of him on your lips. With one swift movement your shirt ended on the floor, with another one, your thong joined it. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in a tight hug, as he sat you down carefully on the verge of his bed. He started kissing all of your body. He stopped once he arrived on your boobs, licking and nibbling at your nipples, leaving small love bites under one of them, as you exhaled in short breath in response. A soft moaning provocated by him kissing down your stomach. The coldness of his breath shocked you as he came close to your cunt, the wetness of it becoming cold when his breath reached it, before starting to kiss right above it, around it. 

“Steve.” You whimpered, looking down at him, biting your lips as he looked up at you, a smile dedicated to you. 

“You look so angelic.” He answered. “I wonder if you’ll sound it too.” He teased, right before his lips started to eat you out. 

A sharp moan escaped your lips, as the warmth of his mouth invaded you, he knew exactly how to move your tongue, your hips already moving as he fucked you with his tongue. Your mouth was becoming dry, your lips parted as you couldn’t stop moaning, begging, or simply just whimpering with no sound. Your whole body felt on fire, starting with the way Steve made you feel, reaching to your lips where you wanted to be touched. 

“Love…” You managed to whisper, smiling when you saw the way he did once he heard you. “I need you.” You cried out, happily when you saw him climb on top of you, kissing you senseless as you could taste your sweetness on his lips. 

“Where?” He groaned out, as his hand caressed your whole body, too busy kissing every inch of your skin he could. 

“Everywhere.” 

He took that as an invitation, you felt the way one of his fingers opened you up, slowly. You did the same with him. Your hand wrapped around his cock once again, you were going at the same pace, if he fingered you harder, or faster, you did the same. 

Until you couldn’t take it anymore. You really needed him. 

“I really need you, Stevie.” He nodded, and left one more kiss on your lips. 

He grabbed you by the waist, pulling your body in the middle of the bed. He took his cock, his fingers brushing yours, as he searched for your wet entrance. The first thrust was always the best one. 

His body relaxed instantly, and so did yours. You melted into one, a release was made, he was inside, and once he looked you in the eyes, a is this okay? that you answered with a sincere smile and a nod. 

He went in again. And again. And again. Your legs parting with every movement, wrapping around his waist, his body sinking deeper into yours. 

“You feel… fuck.” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence. Your waist pulling up with his latest thrust, he could tell his dick was exactly in the right place, your walls closing down on him.

Light touches traveled down his back, as your fingers searched where to grab him, needing him deeper, wanting him more than you ever had. 

He understood. 

He grabbed your leg, pulling it up so it would rest on his shoulder. A cocky smile escaped his lips as he saw you groan with pleasure when he hit deeper, and harder. 

He didn’t stop, the noise his body left when it hit you was engraving itself on your brain. It wasn’t the only thing. 

From now on, when you close your eyes you can see Steve like that, enamored by you, his eyes only shining for you, his pretty girl. 

“Keep making that sound, please.” He begged, once he started to hear the way you were running out of breath, trying to say his name. 

“Steve, Steve I’m…” 

“I know, honey, me too.” He whimpered, as he continued. 

You wanted him to finish inside. 

So your legs wrapped tightly around him, your nails burying deep in his skin, begging for him to stay doing the exact same thing. He kissed you again, and again. His wet kisses on your skin only made you even more overstimulated. 

“Honey I’m-” You shut him up with a kiss, your right hand pulling his hair closer to you. 

“Come, inside. Please.” It was the begging that did it for him. 

Or maybe it was seeing you, your skin fleshed in pretty tones of pink, hair messed up by him, begging for him, needing him that made him a goner. He pressed tightly his body against yours, and came, as you had been doing for a while now. 

His weight over your becoming a warm blanket. You stayed like that for a second, him still inside of you, as you cuddled on top of his sheets. 

And the same question on both of your heads. 

What now?

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #stranger things steve #stablished relationship #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #steve x reader #sts4 #steve harrington x afab!reder #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x ex!reader #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington x you #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction fem!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #fluff steve harrington #hurt/comfort #friends to lovers #miscomunication trope

[penguinlop]

Yandere Alhaitham x Reader

/// Ignorance Is Bliss

Summary:

You discover that your new love, Alhaitham, secretly keeps a detailed knowledge capsule about you.

cw: GN reader, spoilers for alhaitham’s lore and sumeru archon quests, yandere themes, stalking, manipulation, implied not-sfw

Alhaitham knows better than anyone else that there's always a price to pay to enter the oasis of knowledge. 

Sanity is the ticket those desert sirens crave to check before you board. 

Enticing scrolls of information wrap around your waist and weary legs, dragging you toward the mirage of gilded wisdom. They dance around, heated faces burned from the whispers of sand. The glistening flow of cleansing texts and books containing forbidden, convoluted details tempts people's thirst. 

It's all for the enlightenment. An intoxicating euphoria of comprehension, to feel the ivory branches and leaves of Irminsul flood their senses. Perhaps it's the glory, that "aha!" moment people desire. They want to fatten their parched egos and satisfy that sinister appetite. They hunger to be better than everyone else by knowing and achieving more, by finding the Holy Grail first. 

Knowledge is the charmer; people are the sinful serpents. 

As with any personal research project for him, it started with discovering the topic of interest

Alhaitham prides himself on being a man with principles rooted in logic. Rationality is the key to clarity. Dreams are mere distractions. They are fanatical fantasies that the mind plays to taunt and deceive. The Sages endlessly speak of how emotions only get in the way of breaking the Samsara and reaching Nirvana. 

Perhaps the moon can only hope to achieve the greatness of the sun. 

That is why it was noon when he first laid eyes on you in the House of Daena.

You smelt of orange blossom.

How could he forget that contemplative look as you searched for yellowing books riddled with dust to pique your interest and aid your studies? It was nothing out of the ordinary, a common spectacle rather. As a fellow member of the Akademiya, you were simply another eager student to him.  

Holding onto such a meaningless encounter wouldn't be rational. He didn't even bother to gather information on you via the Akasha as a testament to his word. 

But one evening, as the lustrous moon wailed in its cage, Alhaitham found you near the beautiful Sanctuary of Surasthana. It was a clear night with a gentle breeze, the perfect time to  contemplate and relax amidst the choir of dusk birds. He was going up there to take a quick breather. There were too many annoying meetings he had to attend.  

With a telescope in hand and a notebook neatly laid on a stone bench nearby, you gazed at the glorious heavens. A faint fragrance of rose water clung to your skin. However, that's hardly what he noticed at the time. There it was again: that contemplative look. They say the scholars of the Akademiya hold the weight of Teyvat by carrying the burden of denying ignorance, the blistering desire to keep on learning. Some seek to know more and more, even as they meet their fated end. It's an addictive, maddening cycle of peeping into the elusive unknown and searching for answers. 

Yet you looked so peaceful. It was refreshing to see. 

Alhaitham couldn't help but reminisce about the words his grandmother left him with. 

"May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life." 

"Lovely, aren't they?" you whispered as tenderly as dancing Padisarahs when you noticed his form enter the Sanctuary's vicinity. "Many say the stars are mysterious, but I think they can be quite playful. Every day I unveil more. It's like they ask me to come and be with them" A simple glance nearly made him burn with curiosity. He suddenly felt parched. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I can often get carried away with my studies." You chuckled at the cunning man. Maybe he couldn't even hear you with his headphones on.  

Alhaitham crossed his arms and sighed. "It's fine. I should've known someone from the school of Rtawahist would be up here stargazing. I will be heading off then." Your telescope and blue robes were a telltale sign of your discipline; it was but a mere elementary-level deduction. 

"Are you sure you don't want to stay? I don't want you to feel like I am hogging the place." The fragrance of rose water came oh-so-slightly closer. It was too sweet and enticing. The pragmatic man couldn't help it. He discretely used his Akasha on you. 

After learning of your name and basic information, he came to the blatant conclusion that he needed to leave. Immediately. 

Once again, he thought of his grandmother. 

"You are such a smart child, but you must take care to have a clearer mind than others. You must understand that vain pursuits are but dust."

His mind was fogging up with too many eccentric yearnings. Aside from facts hastily gathered from the Akasha, he knew nothing about you. 

It needed to stay like that.

He nearly scoffed. What was this? That old tale of Layla and Majnun? The man who went insane from love. Give me a break. What use would itching love be to his aspirations? At best, this was but a fleeting attraction. It would go away eventually. 

"Look, I don't think either of us have any more time to waste." Alhaitham reviewed you once more before curtly turning around and walking away. "Now then, goodbye." 

He had made sure to study the contours of your face, your eye color, your height, your posture, how your clothes fit you, and, most of all, that scent of rose water. But, really, it was all to avoid you for future reference. Yes, understanding one's subject is critical. 

You raised your eyebrow as you saw his form grow smaller and smaller. Then, tilting your head up, you looked at the hypnotizing stars and deathly pale moon, trying to read your destiny and find the absolute truth. 

Before he could completely escape your view, you used your Akasha Terminal on him. Perhaps you were also too curious. Sumeru's ideals were fostered by you quite well.

Huh, so his name is Alhaitham…What a mysterious man.  

___

The art of coffee-making is a methodical process. 

Roast, ground, brew, and serve. 

It was akin to the process of learning that Alhaitham used: read, break down, reorganize, and question. 

Depending on the customer's order, it could be embellished with spices such as cardamom, cinnamon, or saffron. In some cases, sugar may be added. 

Alhaitham likes it dark and plain, an afternoon refreshment for the man on the go. While Puspa Café is a common place for social gatherings of people across all walks of life, ranging from lowlife sycophants to wishful merchants, he prefers to be alone. Solitude isn't as vexing as many claim. It allows him to think about his current ordeals. Moreover, it gives him time to read. 

That day, one problem had left him quite disturbed. 

The Dendro user has always been in-tune with his body. Ever since the brief confrontation that night, he had been physically and mentally agitated, with a fluctuating heartbeat, clammy hands, accelerated breathing, and racing thoughts. Coffee was a possible solution he believed could mitigate any troublesome symptoms. But, of course, in moderation. His roommate, Kaveh, could learn about the word moderation. 

Yet this afternoon's refreshment only made it worse.

There you were again. 

A ghastly deev haunting his every footstep. Spreading tendrils of nightmares across his skin to choke his throat, vivisecting his beating heart and rumbling mind to capture any essence of starry wisdom and pragmatic musings. 

Closing the book he was reading, he noticed the color of the coffee that spewed out of your brass dallah. It was so light. Just from the sight of it, he could taste the nauseating sweetness, too lightly roasted, with too much sugar, honey, and spice. Scoffing, he bets you even untraditionally added milk to lessen the bitter taste. Children are the only ones who dream in this nation, yet one quick look at you was enough to guess that you never truly grew up.

As if you wanted to solidify his observation, your eyes glowed and the corners of your lips curled up when you spotted him. You made your way over to his table and asked if he would like to join you with a spring in your step. 

Amidst the overpowering, bold scent of coffee clouding the café, he smelt it the moment you came closer.

Jasmine. 

Were your decisions rooted in spontaneity, or did you cycle through a collection of perfumes? He couldn't help but ponder the answer as you awaited his response. 

"Sure." 

He adored the way you perked up at the sound of one word. A waitress quickly helped to arrange a larger table for you two. 

This was just a way to get more information out of you. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Yes, you could be of use to him. The third time's a charm, they say. 

You quickly got comfortable, too comfortable. "Would you like to share some baklava or maamoul cookies? They are quite delicious, though I can order something else for you if you don't like them. Be my guest!" With a slight, delicate movement of your hand, you gestured to the assortment of sweets laying on a brass tray. 

"No. I'm fine. Foods with such high levels of sugar only leave me restless at night. It's a nuisance to deal with while I'm trying to work. You should know better, too. Thank you, though." 

You awkwardly glanced away. "I see…Well, that's not a problem. The offer is always there if you change your mind." Looking down at your hands nestled in your lap, you maneuvered the dying conversation elsewhere and swiftly began to ask about his job as the Akademiya's Scribe. The dreamy gleam in your eyes never faded

He couldn't get enough. His illogical thirst was growing.

His flesh began to blaze with anticipation. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to entertain this romantic fantasy for a bit. Things could be tested with you. He was never one to be enthralled with the concept of love. It was too frivolous and melodramatic, but he supposed studious scholars never limit their perspectives. 

"So, what's it like?" you chirped. 

Why must you question him? He wanted to know more about you, everything there was to know. No, he had to know in order to finally get this greedy parasite wishing to feast on every bit of you out of his mind. Such a visceral need was consuming every inch of his very being. All semblances of practicality were withering before his eyes. No amount of bitter coffee was enough to quench the anxiety that plagued his mind, nor his bouncing knees, as you persistently asked him about his work and Darshan of Haravatat. 

Of course. 

How could he be so ignorant? His approach was all wrong. 

Alhaitham graduated with top grades at the Akademiya; his professors commended him for quickly deciphering incredibly elaborate ancient runes and grasping unfathomably complex syntax and structure. 

You were like that. 

You were a puzzle waiting to be unveiled and exposed to him and him alone. The world has no need of getting to view such convoluted beauty. A rare individual you were, indeed. You managed to hold on to such childish ways of wanting to dream while still maintaining a mature air of unmatched wisdom in your research. 

Alhaitham began the next phase of his project. 

Studying the subject.  

He thanked his grandmother for the lessons she taught him. All he had to do was clear his mind, and the path to wisdom was unfolding. 

___

None of it was wrong. 

No sane student at the Akademiya would ever take their exam blindly or be unprepared for a debate. Comprehension and studying are critical components to achieving success. So why set yourself up for failure? 

Before asking if you would reciprocate his feelings, he had to know first. So many calculated scenarios were emerging through his mind as he thought of what would happen if he didn't make sure beforehand. He couldn't possibly let himself look like some idiot. He had to find out the exact percentage of success, no matter what it took. 

After all, Alhaitham's hands were never the cleanest, even if he did like a cushy life. 

That is why he felt no guilt when he asked to walk you home. It was very late at night. You were stargazing again. He just wanted to be useful.  

Each step was seared into his mind. Each item of interest you pointed out on the way left him with more questions. Upon reaching your abode, sparks of pride flooded into his veins. He had guessed you lived in this area. You often walked here during mornings and later hours; it was a straightforward conclusion. Nothing special. 

A tender smile graced your beautiful face. It was brimming with gratitude. 

He ensured you entered safely and locked the door. It was only when all the lights were out did he truly depart, though. He had to see the peaceful expression on your face as you slept. 

Once Alhaitham arrived home, he felt conflicted. Reasonably, there was no chance he could ever forget anything from today. Yet humans aren't without their respective flaws, especially involving memory. He didn't dare to ruminate on what may occur if he were to somehow forget even one piece of information you blessed him with. Every tidbit and morsel you fed him was significant in nature. 

It was all part of his investigations.  

However, he couldn't write such crucial facts in some random notebook. No, no; such things must remain strictly confidential. It was only logical. What if he misplaced it? Or even worse, what if his obnoxious roommate got to it? He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.

Summoning an empty knowledge capsule that he had obtained when he was ordered to draft more ordinances for the Sages, Alhaitham flooded it with every bit of data he had on you, from your slumbering form to your mellow smile and contemplative look. It was all there. Safe and sound, ready for him to access at any time. 

Before resting, he thought of the way you smelt of orange blossom again. 

___

You next met one morning at the Akademiya. 

You wore no fragrance today. 

Chuckling, you noticed Alhaitham stride towards you impatiently. He was clutching a small, decorative bag. After exchanging simple greetings, he handed it over to you. There was neither a frilly explanation nor a blooming blush on his handsome face. Instead, he had a sharp and clean approach. 

"Here, this is for you." 

Though not one to express his emotions so as to maintain an unreadable body language, you had picked up on a few of his habits. He seemed eager. It was charming to think about how he grew more casual and open around you. To the untrained eye, one may think he wasn't fond of you at all, but you knew. That realization was enough to keep you on your toes. 

One previous evening, the glimmering stars and bygone moon sisters breathlessly spoke of your future. It was challenging to decipher, but you stuck to your beliefs that the stars don't lie, and you were greatly rewarded.

The confirming chill that the divine gales of the night brought to you all spoke of the same fortune. 

"There is a man that treasures every bit of you." 

Despite sounding like good tidings, a hole in your stomach grew.

It started off as a tiny sapling. You suspected it to be anxiety for upcoming deadlines or the usual fatigue from nights spent stargazing. Something that could easily be brushed off. Yet branches and roots ravaged and wrapped around your organs as you heard the consistent sound of soil crunching beneath one's feet. Be it dawn or dusk, such dreadful mirages pained your spirit.

But with Alhaitham, it stopped. Perhaps it was a side effect of being in love. Being so on edge around him had taken a toll on you. Is this why the Sages warn of pursuing things such as love? You couldn't help but wonder. 

Nevertheless, it wasn't an appropriate time to have your heads in the clouds. 

You quickly tore off the patterned wrapping paper and grinned. It was exactly what you needed: more jasmine-scented perfume! Just the glass bottle itself was astonishingly exquisite, encrusted with jewels and detailed with gold. You could tell it was expensive. 

"I can't take this. This must've cost you a fortune! I really can't accept this. Though I did just run out of mine… You should return it and use the money for something more useful. Besides, I'm fine with using the cheaper one I usually purchase!"

Returning the bottle to the small bag, you tried to give it back to the man standing before you. 

Alhaitham hated the way you acted. This was just a quick gift he purchased at the Grand Bazaar. It was nothing. He knew you had run out of your usual exactly the day prior. Alhaitham simply saw an opportunity and decided to strike. Honestly, he only studies what interests him. You should know that by now. Why bother with the inessential? 

"Don't be ridiculous.” His eyes narrowed oh-so-slightly. “It was just something I thought you might like. Anyway, keep it. I have no need for such things." 

Still lacking confidence, you treaded carefully, "Well…If you say so. I will treasure it by wearing it every day! Thank you, Alhaitham." Inspecting the perfume bottle again, you couldn't help but smile. "It's almost like a miracle that you gifted me this because I just ran out of my usual. I really want to thank you somehow…."

Bullseye. 

"Hmm… Is that so? Never mind, we will get to that later." He placed his hand underneath your chin and pulled your face from side to side to inspect you. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you? Your eyebags are much more prominent." 

Twinges of insecurity rang through your bones as he examined your appearance. I suppose that's how he shows he cares? Looking down, you played with the strings of the gift bag and tried to awkwardly collect yourself. "Lack of sleep is common for my studies, but I have been a bit more jumpy than usual when I rest, that's all. Perhaps you were right back then…Too much sugar." Your voice grew weaker. "It's nothing, really." 

"If it's ‘nothing’ as you claim it to be, then you wouldn't be so distressed. Come on, spit it out." There was no need to sugarcoat things. Many of his former classmates gossip that he is a ruthless robot, but he doesn't mind such statements. To him, it's better to clear things away than regret it later. 

Not wanting to look into his eyes, you glanced at the other students in the Akademiya mingling with their like-minded colleagues and friends. Dejectedly, you scratched the back of your neck, then quickly gestured to the door with your head. "Let's talk outside, shall we?" 

Sitting under a pavilion, you apologized for the sudden request to head outdoors. Alhaitham remained unfazed. Rigid and cold, silently awaiting a reply. 

First, you breathed in, then shakily exhaled before speaking, "Okay, then. I think someone is stalking me. I can't give you a proper explanation as to why, but I just know. It really has left me so scared. I won't lie, the feeling disappears when I'm with you...." With a heated face, you quickly looked to Alhaitham for validation as you poured out your feelings. "But, um, of course! You are an extremely accomplished individual. Anybody would feel better with you since you're the Scribe, after all." 

He scoffed, "I think Kaveh would beg to differ about your last statement." 

You laughed. 

It was simply perfect. He just wanted to caress your face and tell you how good you were being for him. Yes, so good. So naive. 

"Let's do an experiment. Why don't you stay at my place for a day or two and see what happens?" He couldn't help but smirk at how you shrunk under his all-knowing stare. "If you don't want to, I can think of another solution. However, I believe we have become quite close, and I'm sure you would enjoy it. Besides, Kaveh is out for a bit. But in the end, it's your choice, of course." 

"Well, if you insist…." You took out the perfume bottle and daintily sprayed it on your neck and wrists; you enjoyed how his keen eyes soaked you in. "Thank you for being so kind. You know me so well, Alhaitham." 

"Yes, I really do." 

___

In Sumeru City, when it rains, it pours. 

Streets flood with incinerating kisses and sensual touches intertwined with a rich, floral fragrance. 

To many, Alhaitham is known as a lunatic. Such a name fits the man whose mind was devoured by jasmine perfume. 

He couldn't get enough. 

Every inch of you, he had to learn about. He needed to properly store and encode such mesmerizing information into the recesses of his gluttonous mind. 

That intoxicating perfume permeated Alhaitham’s room and desperately held onto disheveled sheets. It was akin to the incense that scholars use to clear their minds and focus their bodies to become one with Irminsul. Yes, it was just like that. 

You couldn't help but feel so safe in his arms. The stars really do never lie. 

He loved every bit of you.

___ 

Sunlight peeked through translucent cotton curtains and illuminated the room. 

Alhaitham kissed your forehead and greeted you with a simple "Good morning" as you moved his hair from his face and took in his features. The intense perfume still persistently laced through his sheets. 

The domesticity of it all, from changing together to preparing breakfast, swelled your heart. It had been quite a while since you were last able to unwind like this. 

Alhaitham quickly took notice of your lax movements. Good. You were enjoying yourself as planned. By the time he's done, you won't be able to tell the difference between an innocent Sumeru Rose and a vicious Venus Flytrap.

He looked you up and down again. "How do you feel? Did you sleep okay?" 

"Yes, I haven't felt this relaxed for a while. Ever since I joined my Darshan, sleep has become a luxury. It was especially bad when I was first learning the basics because I would have to stay up all night long to study the stars and keep up with other research. At one point, I developed severe insomnia, but I’m fine now. Anyway… Yes, I did sleep well. This is the first time I’ve felt safe in a long while. Thank you, Alhaitham." 

He nodded and spoke, "That's good. If we are going to continue this relationship, then maybe in the future we can discuss more complex matters, such as living together more permanently."  

Your eyes widened as you took in his statement, but you soon giggled, “A little hasty, aren’t we, Alhaitham?” You poked fun at him. “What about poor Mister Kaveh?” 

He rolled his eyes at your teasing. 

Then he shrugged and bluntly defended himself, "It's only rational to think about these things, especially with your situation. Besides, I'm only putting them on the table—" 

There was a knock at his door. 

He noticed your jaw tighten in fear. Alhaitham pulled the strings of the puppet and played along with you. He muttered into your ear to hide from the front door's view just in case.  

The Scribe loved the way you obediently followed his orders and trusted so wholeheartedly everything that he said.  

When he opened the door, he didn't expect to be greeted by the Grand Sage Azar's assistant: Setaria. 

She told him how the Akademiya lost a knowledge capsule about the divine and how the Grand Sage wished for him to gather information on a certain blonde traveler.

A divine knowledge capsule and a heroic traveler from afar. How interesting. 

He crossed his arms and unceremoniously spoke, "I'll start my assignment soon." With that, he nodded, closed the door, and went silent again. Annoyance ran through his veins as he was pulled along into the Grand Sage's plot. A peaceful life as the Scribe was all he desired. Was it really that hard for the Akademiya to provide that?  

Turning around, the reserved man called for you. Your name rolled off his tongue too well, as if he was made to be the sole person on this forsaken continent to cherish and pronounce it. You carefully popped your head out from behind his bedroom door, the corners of your kissable lips turned down, forming a slight frown. 

"Is it all good?"

"Yes, it was just someone from the Akademiya for work. Speaking of, I have a little surprise for us." Alhaitham seemed to look right through you. "Do you want to hear it?" There was an excitement bubbling deep inside of him. Your stomach began to ache as he cloaked himself in mystery. 

You felt those hawk eyes analyze you again. "Uh, sure?" 

"How would you feel about going to Port Ormos for some academic research?" 

___

Alhaitham convinced you that it would help your situation. You could see if that uneasy feeling would follow you on your journey to the port. 

While the actual job itself is mundane and uneventful, as the Scribe, he receives many benefits. One was being sponsored by the Akademiya to stay in an upscale hotel with many amenities. 

Your shared suite had a lovely balcony with a nice view of the sea. Breathing in the refreshing salty air on a balmy day was energizing after being cooped up in such a stifling city of arrogant wisdom. Mere fool's gold.  

"If you want to go and explore, I would advise you to remain within the hotel grounds or near places that are guarded or populated in case anything were to happen. 

You turned to him. "Thank you for your concern, but I will just stay here. It's a nice room. I'll enjoy the breeze and finish up my papers on the balcony. Perhaps in your free time, we can do something together?"  

He thought about it for a second. "I'll see."

You deflated a bit. "Well, when do you think you'll come back?"

"Not anytime soon."

"Oh..."

"Anyway, I should be leaving now." Alhaitham pecked your cheek before heading out.

After unpacking, you began writing rough ideas for your ongoing thesis in your worn-out leather journal. As the clock kept ticking and the hours passed, you grew bored. Small sketches of constellations were sloppily drawn on the side with little notes as you tried to jot down as much information as possible. Becoming distracted, you began to doodle Alhaitham's constellation: Vultur Volans. You wanted to unveil so much more about him. You wanted the stars to guide you in your journey. 

Yet just as you were about to finish your little doodle, your pen ran out of ink.

You scribbled a few lines and circles to test it out one last time before throwing it in a nearby trash bin. It was nothing. A simple delay. 

Before going inside, you closed your leather journal and placed it on top of the stack of scrap papers so they wouldn't fly away. Going to your side of the bed, you opened your Adhigama wood nightstand and pulled out a few spare pens. However, when you sat down and attempted to use them, they didn't work. It was fine. You just happened to bring a bad batch. That was all. 

You knew Alhaitham brought a brand new set with him. It was still in his luggage, though... He was in such a hurry to start his job here in Port Ormos that he had no time to unpack. You always admired his diligence; it's what got him so far so quickly. He was your age, but you were still far behind. Though you couldn't blame him for tuning the world out and focusing just on his studies, he lost so much at such a young age. He was brave to keep looking towards the future despite his parents being gone. Even if he would say, "It was just the most rational thing to do." 

Alhaitham is a man with principles rooted in logic. He would understand why you were rummaging through his things. It wasn't an invasion of privacy! You two were a couple now; albeit new, the love was evident already. 

You were just going to borrow his pens, anyway. 

As you unlocked his luggage and looked for his case of supplies, you stumbled upon two similar containers in appearance and weight. Ugh! Which one was it? I suppose I'll just have to open them both… 

Moving your hand towards the zipper, you noticed your hand shake. Perhaps it was just getting cold. You had left the glass balcony door open, only closing the screen. The soft sound of the breeze and smell of sea salt slithered up your spine, invading your ear canals and nostrils. 

You placed your fingers on the zipper of the bag on the left. The sound of it unzipping was akin to the rustles of leaves and branches in a dark rainforest. What you found inside was a knowledge capsule. 

The pens were in the other bag. 

That was all. Alhaitham works under the Grand Sage. Of course you were bound to find certain items only he should be privy to. 

Yet why was it calling you like the irresistible knowledge that spills from the ivory, archaic branches of Irminsul? It was most likely empty, anyway, waiting to be filled with the information he would discover in the bustling Port Ormos. Why was the hollow, ravaging feeling in your stomach and heart returning to once again suffocate your organs and dry up your blood into grains of sand? 

Your journal was waiting for you. Opening the other bag, you got what you wanted. 

His pens. 

That was what you came for. 

However, the sharp pains and shivers ringing through your body reeled you into the infested desert and the pouring rainforest. A peek wouldn't hurt. Alhaitham would understand, right? He was the one that brought you here, after all, to keep an eye out for your situation. 

Yes, he's a man who knows his morals. Besides, how would he even know? It would be alright. He said himself that he wouldn't be coming anytime soon. 

As you gripped the green and gold knowledge capsule pulsing and flowing with information, you felt so conflicted. The unease was growing, yet you felt so sure that you were meant to do this. Opposing thoughts contrasted each other like fields of flowers flourishing amidst dunes of lifeless sand. It truly nauseated you.  

After establishing a connection with it, you felt it. A flash of memories entered into the recesses of your mind. As if two consciousness were merged together to form one single entity, you felt vines and tendrils weaving through your anatomy. Nearly every bit of knowledge you gained was something you already had experienced. Yet it was from a different perspective. Your face, your body, your studies, your smiles, your slumber, your pens, even your perfume. 

It was all there, only from a different angle.

For so long, you saw life from the eyes of a feeble mouse. Now, you could see what it was like to view the world from the perspective of a hungry vulture ready to gobble up its prey. You dropped the canned knowledge. You barely heard the thud it made with the flooring, as it was drowned out by all of the thoughts racing through your mind. 

Your eyes scattered to the open glass door with the closed screen. The breeze and saltiness of the sea were still there. 

It felt so far. 

Running to the balcony, you rushed to lock the glass door and fumbled to close the cotton curtains. 

"Didn't anyone teach you to clean up after yourself?" 

Alhaitham's voice made everything cold. Sharply turning your head, you faced the man who both tormented your life and made it so beautiful. He came back so soon. Too soon. 

"Once the Matra knows about this, you will go to prison, Alhaitham, for what you did to me!" Your hands were shaking as you bunched them into fists and furrowed your eyebrows. Tears were threatening to spill at any moment. 

He merely crossed his arms. His precise, uptight composure never faltered. "You think the Matra will do anything to me? I'm the Scribe. The right hand of the Grand Sage." He stepped closer to you. “Did you know there once was a Rtawahist student who was so desperate for sleep that they went to Port Ormos and looked for knowledge capsules to help their studies and cure their insomnia? The Matra were never able to track down the culprit." Alhaitham walked closer to you. "However, I think today, that could change. The usage of canned knowledge to gain an advantage over one’s peers in the Akademiya is strictly against the rules." He was always one step ahead of you.

"Is it not?"

Cupping your face and forcing you to look at his darkening eyes, he stared into you, drinking up the way you brimmed with fear. Just how he liked it. Everything was falling into place as calculated. He whispered into your ear. "Think of this as the 'thank you' you said you would give me that day." 

Alhaitham embraced you tightly, taking in the exquisite jasmine perfume he gifted you. Trembling in his arms, you felt so small and helpless. Dreams shattered as you thought of everything that you had learned. The stars and wise moon didn't lie to you that night. There's a man who loves you with all his being. There's a man who knows everything about you.  

Seeking what is forbidden will always be the downfall of humanity. 

Perhaps ignorance truly is bliss. 

Thank you so much for reading!!!

(⺣◡⺣)♡*

#yandere alhaitham x reader #yandere alhaitham #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #genshin imagines #alhaitham x you

[schemmentis]

Revelation

Anon asked: Prompt: With Jacob living with Melissa, he sees how gay she is around reader and tries to open her eyes for it.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.3k

Pt. 2

“So…” Jacob drawls as he brings the last of the dirty dishes in from the living room. “When are we gonna talk about it? Because I kinda can't pretend I'm not seeing what I'm seeing at this point.”

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Melissa questions. A stern look at him for his not forthright way of speaking. “Talk about what, kid?”

“Y'know…Y/N.”

“What about Y/N?” Melissa rephrases her original question as she takes a step away from her sink. A hand on her hip as she outright glares at Jacob now. Irritated at his still beating around the actual topic, and now that he's bringing you into it too.

You were the newest member of their little Abbott crew. Still, you had been around long enough that they all knew you fairly well. Melissa, arguably, the most of all of them. Though she wasn't necessarily the warmest person; she certainly was more so than when you had first met her.

You were now a regular on the couch for morning news, at Mel and Barb's table for lunch, and the game nights the red head sometimes hosted. The crew, especially Janine, had wanted it to be held more often. Melissa maintained once a month was more than enough to invite them all into her space after school hours.

She stands even more firm on that stance now that Jacob is staying with her. She's grown more fond of him in their short time so far as roommates. He'd surprised her on more than one occasion for some of the things they had in common. The sharing of Real HouseWives goes a long way just by itself. Still, she wasn't about to invite anyone in any further.

Except, when she wasn't paying attention she already had. You had taken the spot right behind Barbara of being her favorite. Some days, you surpassed her work wife too.

She raises an eyebrow when Jacob still stands across from her in the kitchen. Game night had just ended and he was kindly helping clean up afterward. Then he had to ruin Melissa's mood by implying something about you. She still didn't understand what the younger man was trying to get at as he stumbled over the start of his next sentence beneath her glare. She knew, though, if it was anything bad about you she was prepared to make it however long they stayed sharing a living space hell for him. Even if she did like him.

“Would you just spit it out?”

“How much you like Y/N, is what I was trying to say. I didn't realize how close you two were until now.”

Melissa scoffs. This is what he had gotten her worked up over? She tugs the dish towel slung over her shoulder off to toss it onto Jacob's. “You dry.” She mutters, turning back to her sink to begin washing the used dishes.

“Of course I like Y/N. I don't see what the big deal is.” Melissa says after a moment of washing in silence.

“I knew you always picked her to team up with on game nights, obviously.” Jacob says as he dries the plate she's handed him. “And how you guys are at school and all. I just never noticed the other stuff until staying here.”

“What other stuff, Hill?”

Jacob's brow furrows, realizing Melissa really doesn't see it. “You talk to her every night on the phone.” He says, gently setting the plate into the dish rack before taking the bowl she's holding out to him. “Even though it's only been a few hours since you saw her last.”

“So?”

“I mean, do you do that with Barbara?”

“No, why would I? I'll talk to her in the mornin’ or Monday, whatever. Whenever we're at school next. Unless somethin’ bad's happened.”

“Right…” Jacob trails off, trying to navigate the conversation carefully. Part of him worries he's reading too much into things. The other part is worried he's already irritated the redhead just by starting this conversation and if he is right it's clearly going to be a revelation for Melissa.

He clears his throat, trying another approach. “Do you and, uh, Barbara do anything on the weekends?”

Melissa gives him a side eyed look. A little bit like he's dumb for asking. At least, he's sort of used to that one from her. “No. She's got church and Gerald.” She says like that's obvious and he should know that.

Which, he does know. He shifts the piece of silverware he's drying to the dish rack. “Last weekend you went to the movies with Y/N.”

“Yeah, she wanted to see Barbie. Again. She insisted it's different at the theater.”

“The weekend before that you went to the farmer's market together.”

“I'm not gonna pass up fresh produce, especially the peppers. I can use those in plenty of dishes and you get twice as much than at the supermarket. Besides, Y/N is always looking for fresh, local honey. New vendors, too. If somebody new is at one of the local markets then she's gotta go check it out.”

Silently, Jacob is begging Melissa to get his point but he can see she really isn't.

“You don't think it's…different with Y/N?”

“It's different with all youse.” Melissa answers as she shoves the last cleaned plate into Jacob's hands, frustrated at his prodding. “I ain't with you like I am with Barb and I'm not with Barb like I am with Y/N. What's it matter?”

“It doesn't.” Jacob answers quickly. At least, it doesn't in the way he can tell his questions are beginning to stress Melissa out. He certainly isn't judging, or trying to.

He thought Melissa at least had an idea of the different way her relationship with Y/N was when he first brought it up. He thought he had just caught onto something that was being kept private. Now, though, it's clear to him that Melissa hasn't even considered that relationship to this level.

“I just noticed you guys…spend a lot of time together is all. I thought…” Jacob stops himself from finishing his thought. He doesn't know how Melissa will take it now.

“You thought what?” Melissa presses, wiping down the kitchen counter. She doesn't turn to him but Jacob can hear the glare in her tone.

“I thought you guys were…seeing where things were going.” Jacob hedges.

“What's that even ‘spose to mean?”

“I thought you were dating and just not ready to tell everyone yet.” Jacob finally says plainly.

“Dating?” Melissa echoes, turning back to face Jacob now. In half a second, she gauges his seriousness. He means it. “You thought me and Y/N were, are, dating?”

Jacob shrugs helplessly. “Yeah. You two are just kind of…always together.”

“Well. We’re not.” Melissa says sternly.

Jacob nods. “I get that now. I won't just…assume next time?” He hesitantly promises, mustering a smile he hopes will disarm Melissa's demeanor. “For what it's worth, you guys would be good together, though.” He adds, making his way out of the kitchen to put away monopoly still left out on the coffee table.

Melissa stares after Jacob. He's disappeared from sight but her eyes remain on the space he had stood in before. A knee-jerk part of her says it's ridiculous he even thought the two of you were dating. A larger part acknowledges how he could have thought it.

She takes a deep breath, turning back to the sink. She lets the dirty dish water from the sink. She wipes the faucet and edges before wiping down the metal of the sink once the water’s drained. She drapes the dishrag over the metal divider between the two basins.

Her hands brace against the edge of the sink. A dim metal thunk when her palms hit it with small force. “Shit.” She’s falling for you.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x you #revelation

[svtskneecaps]

oh good news for those of us who only saw the english version of the french union call for testimony, or who don't speak french:

when in english they said quackity "half-heartedly" acknowledged things, in the french version the word they used was "demi-mot". having consulted a few dictionaries i THINK it's not a direct translation or at least not a wholly accurate one. from what i'm seeing, "reconnaître à demi-mot" roughly means "to admit indirectly". translation of "demi-mot" directly seems to be something like "implicitly" or "without spelling things out".

i've linked the sources where i found the translations for any english speakers who want to double check and please, any native french speaker who disagrees PLEASE tell me if you have a different translation than was provided, or have insight on the connotation!!

"half-heartedly" implies a lack of personal or emotional investment which i think got a lot of us on the defensive (certainly raised my eyebrow) but i think that's just an imperfect translation. from what i'm seeing, 'demi-mot' doesn't have those same connotations.

(incidentally, putting 'reconnaître à demi-mot' into google translate does produce 'to acknowledge half-heartedly'; no shade, to be clear, considering they're a FRENCH union i wouldn't blame them if they had to use online translation tools, and 'demi-mot' is hard to translate, at least for me)

both english and french versions of the call are linked in this post

ADDITION FROM THE REPLIES:

@selemina : "French speaker here, you are very right! In this context, it could mean "he recognized, without saying so explicitly [...]". Or it is a notion of not enough being said on a subject. There is a layer of secrecy to something said 'à demi-mot', which often implies dishonesty. Applied to this context, I think the union is suspicious of Quackity's latest declaration (probably from seeing many dishonest people in charge before) but still reporting the facts." (THANK YOU!!)

#qsmp #qsmp discourse #merci à mon prof; j'ai fait beaucoup de traduction #je suis prête à trouver des mots difficiles >:) #je ne peux pas parler français mais je peux traduire des mots individuels #sorry francophones lol #sept ans mais je ne sais rien mdr #i thought about asking for correction by french speakers in french but then the phrasing got too complicated and i chickened out #i would be SO EMBARRASSED IF I FUCKED UP #i know native french exist on this website now ;w; ça me fait peur #this post is a mess i'm so nervous to post this lmfao

[navybrat817]

Did you see the Sebastian photo with him in the leather jacket and Bucky hair? The black and white one? He looks so good!!!!!!!!

Is it the image below, nonnie? If so, yes! He looks amazing. So much that I had to share more rocker!Bucky. If not, I'm happy to receive the pic.

Everybody Wants a Taste

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Are you really Bucky's girl? He thinks so. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, oral implied (m. and f. receiving), possessive behavior, slight jealousy and insecurity, swearing, slight feels (it's me), sort of getting together, communication is key, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Some White Wolf and Luna that no one asked for! This can also count for Week 4 of the @the-slumberparty for Across the Universe!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and banner by the lovely @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When word got around that you were seeing Bucky Barnes, some of your friends back home told you to be careful. Not because you couldn't keep up with the rockstar, but because they didn't want him to throw you out when he eventually grew bored of you. Touching as it was, it was also insulting.

"We're having fun." you said in the group chat. "Nothing wrong with that."

"But everyone wants him!" one of them replied. "What makes you different from the rest?"

What makes you special?

"Nice fucking pep talk. Really. Appreciate the vote of confidence!" you sent.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

That was the last thing you sent in the chat.

You may have given your phone the finger, too.

As if you needed another reminder that girls, and guys, lined up to get just a glimpse of the man you somehow got to call yours. Some were better looking than you and others were nicer, but you refused to let it shatter your confidence. They didn't click with Bucky the way you did. If he woke up one day and decided he didn't want you, it wouldn't be the end of your world.

You took care of yourself long before you left home and wouldn't depend on a guy for anything. That was something you made clear when you started spending more time with Bucky. At least, you told him once you could form a coherent sentence since he fucked every sane thought out of you.

"It's okay to keep wanting me, Luna."

Being addicted to him wasn't something you anticipated nor did you want to admit that he had a hold on you. If you did, he'd have the entire deck stacked in his favor. But the cocky fucker knew he had you in the palm of his hand and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Not when you were on your knees worshipping him like the god everyone made him out to be.

You waited for Bucky after rehearsal, knowing he could do with a bit of stress relief. Steve gave you a knowing smirk as he walked by. "Hey, baby," he teased.

“Hey, blondie,” you winked back.

"Don't call my girl 'baby', punk," Bucky said as his friend laughed.

Am I your girl?

Shamelessly allowing your eyes to roam his body as he walked closer, you wondered how he even got his jeans on some days with the heat he was packing. The rest of the band nodded to you as they passed by, knowing exactly what they'd witness if they stuck around.

"I don't remember texting you," Bucky said when he stopped, running his ringed fingers through his hair. "You don't have anything better to do than wait for me?"

Asshole. You're lucky I adore you.

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed yourself off the wall. "Plenty of other things I can be doing that don't involve you."

"C'mon, baby. I'm fucking with you," he smiled as he moved to stand in front of you. "I just figured you might be hanging out with Alice and Sunshine."

"Oh, we did each other's nails and had a pillow fight. Almost fell out of my top as I jumped around," you smiled, leaning against the wall once again.

You liked Alice and Sunshine. You'd be a bitch not to and they understood things that people back home wouldn't get. Jefferson was certainly more cheerful now that he had his girl back in his life. And Hal still adored his high school sweetheart just as much as he had the day before.

What's it like for someone to be loved the way they are?

"And I missed it? That's too bad. Didn't get a facial?"

You arched an eyebrow as he moved a finger along the swell of your breast. "How could I when you weren't there to give me one?"

"I can give you one now," he smirked.

You laughed and shook your head as you tugged him closer by his t-shirt. "I don't know if I want one anymore. I could find something else to quench my thirst."

"We both know you love the taste of my cock."

"Almost as much as you love the taste of my pussy."

He placed both hands on the wall and looked into your eyes as you bit your lip. "My favorite treat. You gonna let me get my mouth on you so I can have my fill?"

"Maybe after you fuck my throat. Maybe," you said before he brought a hand to your throat. He held it there, but didn't squeeze. "So you'd rather choke me with your hand instead of your cock?"

"Luna, baby, don't tease me."

"Isn't teasing just another form of foreplay?" you asked.

The flirty, fun banter never got old with him. Even on the days you didn't have sex, you found yourself smiling at his words and antics. It made it difficult to protect your heart. But like your body, it was yours to give the person you wanted and he had the key to the lock before you knew it.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he stated, tightening his grip when you moaned. "Want you to choke on me before I make a mess of you."

The mere suggestion was enough for your thighs to rub together, tour panties dampening more at the thought of him using your throat to get himself off and paint your face. His thick cock filled every hole of yours to the brim time and time again, reminding you that you belonged to him. But you couldn't always give in so easily. Call it pride or a power move.

You'd both get off in the end.

"Sure you don't want one of your other groupies to suck your cock?"

Everybody wants a taste.

His smirk vanished instantly as he leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. You didn't shy away from his gaze, captivated by the blue of his eyes. He liked that you didn't try to hide.

Caught in his trap, you couldn't duck and run if you wanted to.

"I haven't fucked anyone else in weeks," his voice dropped as he shoved his knee between your thighs without warning, your core pulsing as he brushed his lips against yours. "Thought I made it clear that you're my girl."

You swallowed hard enough for Bucky to loosen his grip. If Bucky let you in, that meant something because he didn't give himself away lightly. Sex, he could find that anywhere. Someone to stick around through the highs and lows after was another story.

One you wanted to write with him.

"You never actually asked," you said above a whisper.

It was weak to say it out loud and make him put a label on it, but you wanted to hear it.

"I didn't think I had to ask," he said, kissing the spot between your eyes with a small huff. "I thought you were already mine.”

Your stomach swirled with butterflies. "I thought you were mine, too."

"Because I am. I’m all yours," he whispered, playing dirty by rocking his knee a bit more. You were tempted to slide up a bit more and ride his thigh and weep from knowing he was really yours. "C'mon. Be mine. Be my fucking girl, Luna."

You whined when he brought his lips to yours again. You would have said "yes" regardless. "I'm your girl, but don't you dare break my heart. 'Cause I'll hunt you down and make you sorry if you do. I'll curse that glorious dick of yours, too."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. The sound brought a smile to your face. "I'd expect nothing less. You better not curse my dick or break my heart either."

His casual tone had an underlying vulnerability that you wouldn't dare joke about.

"You're my guy, Wolfy. I won't hurt you."

And I'll be your Luna no matter what.

"Don't let anyone hear you call me that," he grinned, pulling his knee away to leave you wanting more. Tease. "I have a reputation to uphold."

You smiled as the atmosphere shifted back to the sexual charge. He didn't need to dwell on the emotions for the moment and neither did you. Your heart was full and that was more than enough for today.

"Guess you better shut me up then," you suggested as you reached for his belt.

"Oh, no. Still wanna hear you moan and whine when you take me in your mouth," he stated, stepping back so you could unzip his pants and sink to your knees. "When I'm done, you're gonna sit on my face and sing for me. Those pretty sounds of yours might inspire our next song."

"Call it 'Howl at the Moon'," you smiled up at him. "Dedicate it to me," you added with a wink.

You'd find out later that Bucky already had.

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #rocker!bucky barnes x reader #white wolf and luna #the vip experience #bucky barnes #rocker!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #navy and roo's sleepover #rocker au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

[seospicybin]

VIEWFINDER.

PART I

Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II

Synopsis: An accidental reunion sets the sparks fly between you and Seungmin, but the relationship takes a turn at the end of the summer and you seek help from your frenemy, Minho. (13,7k words)

Author's note: I didn't mean to make it long but then I saw the word count and decided to put it into two parts. For the birthday boy, Seungmin x

📼 Viewfinder playlist.

Summer is here.

The sun is shining so brightly on the clear blue sky and the air carries the smell of flowers along with its pollen, good thing that you're not allergic.

Another good thing is tomorrow is the beginning of summer break and you can put a hold on the stress of being a university student.

The bad thing is you don't have any plans on how you're going to spend it.

However, for tonight, you have a plan and you have to go home so you can get ready for it.

Your apartment is only a few blocks away from the university complex, you always ride your bicycle to and fro. You put your bag and books on the basket of your bicycle before unlocking the chain lock.

"Congratulations on getting the highest score on the quiz!" Someone says.

Even from how dark the shadow is and the insinuating tone in his voice, you can tell who it is.

You put both the lock and the chain inside the basket before turning around to see him, "Minho, should I be relieved or scared that I can't hear the slightest bit of sarcasm in the way you congratulate me?"

Minho is an enemy because the two of you are competing to be at the top of the class and everyone knows that. His smirk implies that it's the latter.

"I'm trying to be nice and you should too. Buy me drinks tonight?"

You also consider Minho as a friend since he's the only one who knows the pressure of being a devoted student and a great drinking partner.

"I can't. I have to meet Rina's new boyfriend," you tell him.

Minho knows you well enough that he understands right away. Another common thing you have with him is he also rides his bike to campus.

"Who is she dating this time?" He asks while backing the bike out of the rack.

You do the same and walk the bike out of the station, it's not safe to start riding it with people walking around.

"An artist and that's why she wants me to meet them at an art exhibition," you reply.

It's so nice riding through the warm, pleasant breeze and knowing that you don't have to study for weeks. You're paddling your bike slowly and savoring every second passed in freedom with Minho riding his bike next to you.

"Do you have any plans for the summer?" He suddenly asks.

You keep your head looking straight ahead, "Nope but I know I'll be seeing you in the library."

You glance at him and laugh, "It's the only way you can keep up with me," you add with a shrug.

Minho scoffs and slows down as both of you reach the intersection, "Be careful. Next thing you know I'll be steps ahead of you," he coyly taunts you.

You can't tell if he holds his handlebars so hard or if the veins on his arms are always evident like that when your eyes unknowingly land there.

You sneer and say, "That doesn't sound like a threat at all."

The lights turn green and this is when you go separate ways with him. He's turning right while you're going straight.

Before he makes a turn, he turns at you and says, "Just remember. You still owe me drinks!"

As much as you want to beat each other academically and have the same level of competitiveness, you both keep it fair and clean.

And that's why you consider Minho as the frenemy.

-

The outfit you're wearing is appropriate and appropriate is enough.

There are no limitations in art so seeing the other people dressed for the art exhibition doesn't surprise you at all. What surprises you is how old Rina's new boyfriend looks but you guess it's because of all the facial hair he has.

"I'm Joe," he introduces himself.

"Nice to meet you, Joe," you say with a nice smile.

"Have you looked around?"

"Not yet. I think Rina can show me around," You reply while sending signals at her with your eyes.

"Ah, sure, show her around, babe," he says to Rina, letting her go from his side.

Once you both out of his earshot, you grab Rina's elbow and ask, "How old is he?"

"Oh my God, I'm old enough to date whoever I want," she answers while grabbing two glasses of champagne from a tray.

"No, but seriously, how old is he?"

She hands you a glass and sips her drink, "He's only 31. Relax!"

You have mixed feelings about her dating a guy 10 years older than her but she's right, she's old enough to make a decision on her own.

After one sip of wine, you trick your brain that it's going to help you relax and it works like usual.

"This is his artwork," Rina says with a proud smile.

It's a puddle of mud on a canvas. You're raking your brain for a good minute and still have zero ideas of what it is about.

His boyfriend calls for her from across the room and Rina answers like the good girlfriend she is, "Wait, I have to—"

"It's okay, you can go," you tell her and you are more than relieved to be left alone.

You look at it again and try to make the meaning of this messy piece of artwork when someone takes a stand next to you.

"Do you like it?" The stranger asks.

"Not... really," you doubtfully answer.

Maybe it's because you're a left-brained person, you're more adaptable to logical and orderly things that you can't see what it's all about.

"I understand paintings," you share, quietly tapping the floor as you speak, "but artworks like this..."

You dryly laugh at your incompetence and you know for sure Minho will have a good laugh at it if he knows but not this man, he's only staring back at you, waiting for you to finish talking.

"For example, I understand Dali's Persistence of Memory but The Lobster Phone? That, I'll never get it," you share another embarrassing thing about yourself, unprovoked.

It's better to stop talking and further embarrassing yourself. You look back at Joe's artwork and stare at it hoping to find nothing but to pass the time.

When you thought he would turn away and leave this awkward moment, he asks, "How about photographs?"

"Photographs?"

He nods, "I can show you some."

There's no harm in seeing some photographs, you may not get it but it's better than seeing a puddle of mud. Plus, this stranger seems nice and not judgemental.

"I'd love to see some photographs," you say.

He leads you to the other part of the gallery, walking through two big black curtains to enter a whole different exhibition.

The room is dark. The only source of light is coming from the lamps casting lights on each framed black and white photograph hung on the black-painted wall.

It's somehow atmospheric and intimate, it's quiet except for the low chatter of people discussing these photographs.

You saunter to the first photograph you see while he's there walking next to you, watching you taking a look at it with awe in your eyes.

It's just so pleasant to look at and maybe that's just what art is, it doesn't have to be boxed into one thing. You just meant to feel it, profoundly.

"It's amazing," you say with a dreamy sigh.

He senses that you're being earnest about what you said and smiles. He lets you take a look at it long enough that you start to immerse yourself in it.

"Perhaps, do you know what happened to Sisyphus?"

That gets you completely puzzled because why would he ask about a figure in Greek mythology out of the blue?

"Well, it's safe to say he's still rolling the boulder up the hill," You answer with a soft laugh.

He stays quiet for a while and sweetly smiles at you, a smile that makes him somewhat familiar like you've seen it before.

"I'll leave you to figure it out," he says, walking backward until his figure is engulfed by the darkness of the room.

You start to spiral, going over everything you said to him and trying to guess what triggers him to suddenly lose interest, you come down that it has anything to do with the answer you gave him.

You're greatly familiar with Greek mythology to know that he's condemned to infinitely roll a boulder up the hill for cheating the death twice. Must admit that Sisyphus is a slick guy but what has it got to do with all this? Is this his way of flirting? Is he even flirting at all? Who is this stranger?

To keep your mind distracted, you continue your tour around the exhibition and admire each photograph for capturing not only moments but so many emotions.

When you turn to the last wall, you only realize now that you don't know the name of the artist. You bend down to read the card under the photograph.

Kim Seungmin, it says on it and you swear you heard this name before.

You successfully recollect some of your earliest memories from when you were a kindergartner. You had a classmate named Kim Seungmin, he wears glasses and fluffy hair.

You laugh at it because it couldn't be that Kim Seungmin, right?

There's only one way to find out. You talk to someone who might have known him since she's deep in conversation with someone about the photographs.

"Excuse me, but is Kim Seungmin, the artist, perhaps here? Attending the exhibition?" You politely ask.

She seems to be displeased that you interrupt, she looks at you with eyes widening and says, "I'm pretty sure I saw you walked in with him earlier."

"Oh, you mean the guy—" You stop talking altogether as it hits you.

Sisyphus! The Sisyphus he meant is the name of the rabbit you pet together in kindergarten. This only verified that he is the Kim Seungmin you know.

You look around the room for him but can't find him, you exit the exhibition to bump into Rina.

"I've been looking for you!" She says.

"Have you seen a guy with fluffy hair and he's wearing a leather jacket, cute but also cool at the same time?" You ask while craning your neck to spot him in the crowded room.

"That sounds like my boyfriend but he's not wearing a leather jacket so..." Rina answers.

You hold yourself back from groaning. It's typical Rina in love, so smitten, so all over him, and next thing she knows, she finds solace in a bucket of Ben and Jerry's cookie dough ice cream.

"Let's grab some more wine and have another—"

Rina's voice becomes faint as you keep walking around the room hoping to see him again so you can tell him about Sisyphus the rabbit, that he died one year after Seungmin moved away. Unfortunately, there's still no sign of him.

"Rina,"

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I leave early?" You ask, "You know how I feel about being in an event like this."

She knows that she's the extrovert and you're the introvert, your friendship is based on opposite attraction. She nods in understanding and says, "Be careful on your way home!"

You give her a hug and mutter, "Thank you!"

You make your way out of the gallery after saying goodbye to Rina's new boyfriend and see a group of people smoking outside and none of them is Seungmin.

The sound of someone revving the engine of a motorcycle startles you as you put on your cardigan. Your head snaps to the source of the sound and see that it's Seungmin.

You walk to the side of the road and open your mouth to call him, immediately refrain as he hands a helmet to a girl and most likely to get a ride from him.

So much for a sweet reunion! You can only watch as he drives away on his motorcycle.

The night takes a turn and you don't want to go home wallowing in this unexplainable feeling alone in your room. You pull out your phone to call someone.

The dialing tone is ringing as you walk to the side of the road and hailing a cab for you.

"I haven't slept yet but my worst nightmare is already calling," Minho says.

You can't see him but you bet he's smirking as he speaks, "I know it's past your bedtime but remember the drinks I owe?"

He catches up on your intention right away and with an exaggerated heavy sigh, he says, "Well, if you insist."

A taxi stops right in front of you and you open the door to the backseat, laughing as you say, "See you there!"

-

This is how your summer break starts: with a hangover.

The moment you open your eyes, you realize that that is not the only worst thing you do. You wake up and recognize that you're not sleeping on your bed.

A nerd recognized another nerd's bedroom from a shelf of books and another stack of them is on the bedside table.

"Ugh," you groan while rubbing your temple.

You can see the owner of the bed you're in standing, leaning against his desk sipping his coffee.

"What did you do to me?" You ask as you sit up on the bed.

He takes a small sip of his coffee and delightfully gasps, "Nothing but taking care of a drunk fellow."

You scoff and brush your hair to the back, can't think of what happened last night, "I mean, how did you get me drunk?"

He crosses his arms together in front of him and calmly responds, "You were the one who wanted to get drunk last night, not me."

The more you try to remember it, the more your head spins and turns your stomach queasy, "Can I have anything you're having right now?"

"We use the magic words here," he says with a sneering smile.

You sigh and put on a forced smile, "Please?"

Minho smiles in satisfaction and heads to the kitchen. You've been here before so you can navigate your way from bed to the bathroom to wash up. One of his cats aggressively meows when you accidentally cover her with the duvet.

"Sorry, cat!" You mutter, not quite remember their names since there are three of them.

Another cat walks past you as you open the bathroom door and you wash your face, not realizing there's a writing on your forehead until you see the reflection in the mirror.

Minho must had some fun writing "loser" on your forehead with a black marker, you rub it over with soap and water to clean it.

"You don't want to know what I would do to you if it was a permanent marker," you scold as you walk to the kitchen.

Minho is chuckling as he turns and places a plate of breakfast on the small dining table, "I may be mischievous but I'm not diabolical," he says.

It surprises you that he also cooked you scrambled eggs with toast when you only asked for a cup of coffee he was having, "This is not what I expected," you innocently comment as you pull a chair and sit on it.

"You asked whatever it is I'm having, right?" He refills his cup with more coffee.

You start with a sip of coffee and you can feel that the caffeine slowly works its magic, "I thought your usual breakfast would be Russian literature and the economic section of today's newspaper because you know...you're boring," you say with a scornful gaze.

Minho approaches you and puts one hand against the table, displaying his veined arms at you again.

"I'm offended that you said Russian literature is boring," he says, taking your eyes back to his face again.

You forget about what he said once you have a spoonful of the breakfast he made you, it's just egg but it's so good.

Another one of his cats jumps onto the table and nuzzles its head at Minho, asking to be petted and purring when he finally gives what it wants. He checks the time on his watch and says, "I'm afraid you have to finish your breakfast quickly!"

You bite your toast and glance at the clock on the wall, "It's summer. The library won't be open until 10."

He picks up his jacket from the coat hanger, "It's the first day of my summer internship and I can't be late."

Your mouth is full of food to properly speak but you don't want to skip the chance to tease him, "What? You have a Zumba class?"

He dryly laughs and puts his coffee cup into the sink, "I'll be working as Kim Edison for the summer."

"It can't be Kim Edison the columnist who recently won the journalism prize, right?" You ask with an uneasy smile.

Minho doesn't answer but gives you a suck-it smile that is a combination of smirk and evil smug and you hate it so much.

"I give you five minutes!" He shorty says.

With the little time he gives you, you shove as much food as you can and take a long gulp of steaming hot coffee, almost getting your tongue burnt in the process.

You regret having breakfast as Minho rides his bicycle fast as you sit on the back. You get queasy again from the bumpy ride as your hands hold onto the cardigan that you're using to cover your head.

Most of the students are away for the summer break but you don't want to risk being seen riding a bike with him while wearing last night's clothes.

"Stop fidgeting!" He scolds in front of you.

"I almost fell off to the back!" You scold back.

He makes a harsh turn and sends you tilting to the side, you reflexively holding on to his waist from letting that happen.

"You look faint," he cheekily says as he stops the bike right in front of your apartment building.

You can't feel your legs once you get off the bike, "ugh... thank you," you mutter, too nauseated to respond to his teasing.

He checks his watch again and grips the handlebars, "I have to go. Bye!"

Minho doesn't wait for your reply but paddles his bicycle as fast as he can. Guess, he's serious about the internship thing, and that makes you one step behind him.

New plan for the day besides curing your hangover: Find a summer internship.

"It's too late to find one," Rina says, breaking your spirit as you ask her if she knows anyone who needs an intern or something. She's very well connected in the social scene well, that's what an extrovert does best.

"Why are you still dressed in last night— oh, are you...?" She squints her eyes at you.

You would love to deny it but then you would have to tell her where you slept last night, keeping quiet is the best option.

"Why are you packing?" You shift the topic, seeing her packing her clothes into a suitcase.

"I'm going on a trip with Joe," she says with that stupid grin people in love have.

"You've been dating him for only a week, Rina!" You try to put some sense into her.

"So what? Things are going great and it's not like we have a plan for the summer anyway," she says.

"Then what about our movie marathon, having ice cream by the pier, and feeding ducks at the pond?" You list the things you like to do together besides hanging out in your shared apartment for the summer.

"Feeding the ducks is your thing," she says while rolling a folded towel.

She's right and when you think about it again, you can do those things not only in the summer. You should get on your laptop and find a summer internship because who knows?

"At least, tell me where you're going?" You ask as a good friend.

"We're going on a road trip and you know how it is with an artist, we're going to figure stuff out as we go," she gives you a concerning answer.

You bite your tongue to hold yourself back from saying harsh things with good intentions and choose to step back, "Well..." You think of something cheerful to say instead, "Take a lot of pictures and have fun!"

Rina smiles at you as she shoves her makeup into a pouch, "Thank you, babe!"

You're about to leave her bedroom when she remembers something, "I think I know a friend who needs a cat sitter," she says.

Your spirit descends again and before you can make it to your bedroom, the doorbell rings. You drag yourself to open it and are still surprised by his bushy facial hair.

"Oh, hi Joe!" You put on a smile.

"I came to pick up Rina," he says with a fatherly smile or maybe it's because you can't shake the thought that he's ten years older than both you and Rina.

"She's still packing in her bedroom," you open the door wider to let him in, "Come in, please!"

He steps inside and looks around the room, probably scanning for any artsy pieces in an apartment occupied by two college students.

"Coffee? Water?" You offer.

"I'd like a cup of coffee before hitting the road," Joe replies.

There's coffee left in the pot and you pour a cup for him, bringing it for him as he sits on the dining table. Something pops in your head as you hand him the coffee.

"Thank you," he says.

"Hey, Joe..." your palms are already sweaty even though you haven't asked anything.

He looks up after sipping his coffee, "Yes?"

"Do you perhaps know any of your artists' friends who needs... uhm, like an assistant or an intern for the summer?" You sound so awkward but he already gave you a weird look once he saw you're still wearing the dress from last night.

"Oh, I'm not sure but," he pauses to look at the contacts on his phone and scrolls down fast, "I'll ask around."

You hold your hands up at him, "Oh, no, no, no, it's okay if you don't know any I'm just..." you catch someone's name flashes on his contact list.

"You have Seungmin's phone number," you naively blurt out.

"The photographer? Yes, of course, we held the exhibition together," he says.

You hesitate to ask for his numbers and awkwardly smile at him.

"Do you know him?" He asks.

"He was a friend of mine. We went to the same kindergarten but he moved away, well, he and his family moved out of town, and last night, we met again after years and—" You stop yourself from rambling on and on.

"That's so sweet. Here, let me give you his numbers so you can reconnect," he says, giving you his phone so you can send it to your phone.

"Thank you," you mutter while handing him his phone back.

After almost an hour and an impromptu make-out session by the doorway of her bedroom, Rina and his boyfriend finally leave the apartment.

She's dragging her big suitcase with her downstairs and you watch from upstairs as she waves at you before getting into the car.

"I'm leaving. Don't miss me. Don't forget to get out of the house," Rina knows how to embarrass you and make you feel sentimental all at once.

"Okay, Mom," you playfully respond and return her hand kisses.

-

The cold shower helps with the hangover but it doesn't help with the internship search.

Is everyone going out of town in the summer and leaving their pets because there are a lot of people looking for someone to take care of their pets?

For this once, you have to admit that Minho is one step ahead of you. He's deep in your head and you blame it for getting drunk last night.

You know what? You'll do what Rina told you to do and get out of the house to feed the ducks. You get up but sit back down on the chair as you glance at your phone.

You've been contemplating whether to call Seungmin or not. If you call, what are you going to say to him? Tell him that you asked for his numbers without his consent.

There you go again, overthinking things when you can tell him what happened to Sisyphus. You hit the call button right away, not leaving a second for your anxiety to slip in again.

Your heart is pounding while you're listening to the dialing tone... then it clicks and you hear the rustle of someone picking up the call.

"Seungmin?" You call his name right away just to confirm it's him and not the man with the same name as him.

"Sorry, who is this?" It's a voice that you don't expect to hear: of a girl.

"Oh, I must've called the wrong—"

"No, you're right. It's Seungmin's phone but he's currently busy," she explains.

You should be happy that you are calling the right number but your spirit deflates instead, "Oh, that's okay, I'll just— have a great day!"

You abruptly end the call and decide to settle on texting him about Sisyphus, he can use that information as he pleases. Well, you'd be disappointed if he didn't call you back but you try not to put too much hope on it.

Maybe you should have chosen to get out of the house and feed the ducks.

-

Something is weighing your chest as you get awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You stare down and see a book resting on your chest, you must've fallen asleep while reading.

The room is dark, you're too lazy to turn on the lights so you grope around your bedside table for your phone to pick it up.

"Yes, hello?" You croak.

"It's me," Seungmin says.

Your eyes instantly snap open and you lift yourself to sit up on the bed, your fingers brushing your hair as if Seungmin were there and could see you.

"You called me earlier," he says.

"I hope you're not mad that I got your numbers from Joe, he's a boyfriend of my friend, he—" You shut your eyes to keep your mind on track.

"I'm sorry I called you," you apologize even though you're not sure why.

"No, I'm glad you called and I'm glad you asked for my numbers," his voice sounds light and airy through the phone, pleasant to the ear.

You think of something to say without getting awkward, "You were busy when I called so... not sure if you're happy with that."

"Yeah, I was in the middle of doing a photo shoot," he explains with a low sigh.

"I'm sorry," you sincerely say. You were too focused on the girl who answered the call than the real reason why Seungmin couldn't pick up the phone himself.

"Stop apologizing," he says with a low laugh.

"Okay," you say with a smile.

"Can I pick you up for dinner?"

The offer comes so suddenly that you don't know how to respond to it. Frankly, you would say yes right away but you don't want to sound eager.

"I'd love that," you say.

"Send me your address and I'll pick you up."

Unlike you, Seungmin is not afraid to show how eager he is. "Now? Like right now?" You ask for confirmation.

"Yeah. Why?"

You check the time and it's 20 past midnight, you break into laughter because it means one of you is disoriented, "Seungmin, it's late."

There's a pause and then he lowly gasps, "Ah... I've been working all day and didn't notice the time."

"I mean I would love but you've had a tiring day already so..." you hate to reject him but you only need to be the one with initiative.

"How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow sounds great," he shortly replies.

"Do you still want me to send you my address?"

"Yes, that would be helpful."

He sounds sweet that your head is already filled with daydreams, "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"See you tomorrow," he repeated.

"Okay."

"Okay."

A part of you don't want this to end but you have to leave room for him to fill himself.

"Goodnight, Seungmin."

"Goodnight."

Technically, the day has turned into tomorrow and you can't go back to sleep knowing that in mere hours, you'll meet him again on a summer day.

-

It's dinner so you have planned out what time you should shower, and do your make-up and hair, you already picked a dress to wear so that's one less thing to worry about.

Except that Seungmin came earlier than you thought and you were in the middle of doing your hair when he called, telling you that he's outside your apartment building. You dash to the window and look for him.

There he is, standing and holding his helmet in one with the afternoon sun shining down on him, making him look like a dream.

You awkwardly wave at him from the window and Seungmin smiles as he looks up at you.

"Come upstairs!" You tell him on the phone.

"Okay."

Did he grow a few inches since you met or... he just that tall and you only realize it now as you find him standing there behind the door.

"You're ready to go?" He brushes his hair that's already messy yet somehow it's only making him more attractive.

You snap yourself out of it and look away, "I just need to change."

"Okay," he says, sounding calm as usual.

You let him wait inside as you excuse yourself to change in your bedroom. You're already in the dress you planned on wearing but it's most likely that he's taking you on his motorcycle, you change into jeans and a peasant blouse for the sake of comfort.

"Okay, I'm ready now," you announce with a smile.

It will be the first you're riding a motorcycle, it doesn't have that much difference with riding a bicycle, right? Except that the other is with engine and not eco-friendly.

Seungmin hands you a helmet, the same one he lent to the girl that night at the exhibition but you are a grown-up and not going to act petty by refusing to use it.

"Let me help you," Seungmin helps you clip the straps together under your chin.

He fixes the hair covering your face and tucks it inside the helmet, "Safety is sexy!" He says with a flirty smile that flashes at you.

Seungmin gets on the motorcycle and turns on the engine, sending it roaring alive. He offers his hand as support as you climb on the motorcycle behind him.

It's like riding a bicycle, you remind yourself but all that is running through your head is of Minho giving you a ride home that morning.

You almost fall off to the back as Seungmin launches the motorcycle forward, only slowing down when there's an intersection ahead.

"You might want to hold on to me," his voice is muffled by the helmet he's wearing.

"Yeah," You can't hear what he says with the helmet wrapped around your head so tight and the sounds of traffic.

Seungmin takes your hand and puts it around his waist, "Hold on to me," he says louder.

"Okay," you nod to let him know that you can hear him this time.

With how fast he rides and your hand is fisting the front of his leather jacket, the gap between your bodies is close to nonexistent. Sitting behind him, letting you adore his square shoulders and you wish you could just rest your head on his back.

Instead of that, your helmet hits his as he brakes hard at the traffic lights, sending your body crashing into his back. You hurriedly scoot farther to the back.

Seungmin holds your hand before you can let go of your hold on his leather jacket, he holds on to it as he waits for the light to turn green.

He slows down as he rides through the suburban area, taking you somewhere you've never been even though you have lived in the city for years.

It feels nice to ride on a summer afternoon with the air softly caressing your cheeks and the sun feeling warm on your skin.

"I am gutted to know that Sisyphus died," Seungmin says in between bites of dinner.

"The homeroom teacher brought a rabbit that looked like him but I knew that it wasn't Sisyphus," you share and shove a spoonful of mashed potato into your mouth.

"Because he had that black dot on his nose, right?"

You cover your mouth to not let him see you talking while eating, "oh, my God! You remember!"

"Of course," he coyly says, "He was our child. How could I forget our child?"

Our child? Seungmin remembers that too. You and he used to play parents for Sisyphus. But you're going to blame the summer heat for making your cheeks heat.

"So uhm... how did you become a successful photographer?" You shift the topic or else your cheeks are going to explode.

"I sort of... going into it by accident. I was studying abroad for law then I joined the photography club and everything happened," he concisely explains with the always calm yet cool facial expression.

"Everything happened," you repeated with a low laugh.

He takes a sip of water and reclines on his chair, "Just like we happened to meet again."

There is the smile again. It's sly yet nice, flirty yet sweet. He makes you all kinds of things with just one smile.

"I'd love to take your pictures," he says out of the blue.

You shake your head and shyly laugh, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I think it's the best idea," he makes it sound like it's not a request but an order.

The early dinner you had allowed you two to spend the rest of the night walking in the park, enjoying the sunset from the top of the hill and catching up on each other's life.

Seungmin didn't finish his law school, he went on trips around the world to take pictures and do exhibitions. It's compelling listening to him talking about photography, well, he is at his most attractive talking about the thing he's passionate about.

When it comes to your turn to talk about your life, you realize you have your nose tucked in books instead of exploring the world like him.

"Compares to your my life sounds so boring," you say with a sneer.

"You can't compare your life to mine," he says.

He stops on his track and leans against the railing on the edge of a parking building, looking at you, "You get to finish your school and that's a win for you."

"I'm not there yet," you say, standing next to him and looking at the sun sinking lower on the horizon, leaving the day in a beautiful burst of golden rays.

The sunset passed in a comfortable silence, it's like watching the sun slowly tucked in for the night. You turn to the side and see Seungmin basking in the warm glow of the last slivers of sun.

"Ready to go home?" He asks.

Honestly, you don't want to go home yet but what can you say? Seungmin is working during the summer unlike you. The night air is cool and it's helping you relax on the bike ride home. You're holding on to the side of the jacket instead of his waist to stay appropriate.

Seungmin realizes it as he stops the bike at a traffic light, he pulls your hand and puts it inside the pocket of his leather jacket. You can feel his gloved hand but he looks over his shoulder, "Don't let go!"

You nod instead of verbally answering him against the noisy city sounds. Not sure if you're slowly forgetting your way around the city but Seungmin is heading nowhere near your apartment building.

It's when he takes his bike into a different apartment building that he's certainly not taking you home. After taking off his helmet he helps you take off yours in the dimly lit room of an empty parking basement.

"I thought we were going home," you fix your hair quickly with your fingers.

He puts the helmet on the handle of his bike, "But I didn't say which home," he says.

It's only right for you to get nervous, not only that you in Seungmin's studio slash apartment but he wants to take pictures of you too.

"This is a bad idea. I–I'm awkward," you stammer, clasping your hands together in front of you.

He takes your hand and leads you to the sofa, telling you to sit while he walks to a big collection of cameras from analog to digital and dozens of lenses in various sizes.

"Just relax," he says as he finally settles on his choice of camera.

"Act normal, you know, get comfortable," he picks a lens and carefully attaches it to the camera.

That's the problem. You're not normal in the first place and you're not confident unless someone is talking about your favorite books but weirding him out with your book talk is not the way to charm him.

He takes a practice shot and you suddenly shrivel up, turning rigid on the sofa.

"Relax those shoulders," he says while taking steps closer to you and keeping his finger busy clicking the camera.

You're trying to relax but knowing that the camera is taking pictures of you at every angle. It's so obvious that Seungmin puts down his camera and walks up to you.

"Shoulders down," he says with his hand on your shoulder and gently massages it.

"Sit as you like, make yourself comfortable."

You look up at him and nod as he speaks, helping you to loosen up by rubbing down your eyes. But it's the way he looks at you that convinces you that he means no harm.

"You can put your legs up if you want," he encourages.

You shake your head and shyly laugh, "I can't do that but can I borrow one of your magazines?" You point at the stacks of magazines and newspapers on top of the cabinet.

Seungmin must have taken a hundred of pictures already but that won't stop him. He puts his camera so close instead of using his expensive lens to work, making you giggle at how he leans so close.

His hand reaches your face to tuck a hair behind your ear and calmly, he says, "You have beautiful eyes."

"Oh, no, it's getting ridiculous now," you bashfully say as he goes to the back of the sofa to take a picture.

You're following him, tilting your head to the back while covering half of your face with the magazine you're hardly reading.

Seungmin puts away his camera and then leans down as he pushes the magazine away from your face. Then the next you know is his hand caressing your face and slowly he leans in.

It's as simple as putting his lips on your lips but inexplicably it feels like something you've done a million times already. It's easy, pure but the urge in the way he brushes his lips over and over again also makes it feel like such a long time coming.

You close your eyes as his hand slides down from your jaw to your exposed neck and it stays there until he slowly pulls away from the kiss.

Seungmin smiles as you foolishly stay there and stare at him with your mouth parted open, still reeling from the kiss. He continues taking pictures as if nothing happened.

You compose yourself as fast as you can and look down at your lap once Seungmin is done taking pictures, carefully putting his camera back in its place.

The city view at night reminds you that it's getting late and you might have overstayed, "I'd better—"

Again, Seungmin is ready with his hand outstretched at you to help you get up from the sofa. Once you're on your feet, he puts his arm around you and pulls you close so that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek.

"You'd better what?" His eyes are piercing right into yours.

He makes you nervous but in a good way, "I'd better—"

Seungmin kisses you again and he doesn't hold back this time. His tongue skillfully pries your mouth open and slithers in the second you let him in, invading your mouth to taste more of you.

The kiss is fiery and sets your body ablaze, explosive.

Even though your lungs burning for oxygen, you let out a whimper when he breaks the kiss. You didn't think that he would hear it.

He puts his other arm around you and asks again, "Is there anything you'd better do than this?"

It's amusing to him asking you a question that he damn knows the answer to.

With your lack of knowledge and the sex expertise on a road trip with her older boyfriend, you're left with no choice but to figure things out as you go.

You do the same every time Seungmin takes off a piece of his clothing until they're all littering his bedroom floor. The only thing that's left on you is the white underwear you're wearing, it's not a flattering one but for an unplanned sexy time, you hope it will do.

You hugging yourself while Seungmin keeps kissing you with his hands roaming your body, guess he's trying to make you calm but you're just so aware of yourself and your appearance.

Seungmin sees that so he holds your face in his hands and presses a soft peck on your lips, "Don't hide from me."

He glides his hands down to your shoulders and his eyes are following them as they take your hands away from covering your bare chest.

His one hand is straying from the course and goes down your chest, splaying his hand on your sternum then softly sighs.

"Your heart is beating so fast," he speaks so low yet it's echoing in the dark of his room.

"Are you scared or excited?" He asks as he shifts his eyes back at you.

You swallow air and answer, "Both."

Seungmin smiles in response. Keeping the hand on your beating heart, he presses another kiss on your lips, long and lingering.

He then continues the kisses down your neck, collarbone, chest, and the valley of your breasts and keeps going until he kneels on the floor.

Seungmin looks up as he places a kiss on your abdomen, his lips take a right turn, and kisses your waist and down to your hips. His other hand is hooked on the elastic band of your underwear and he's pulling it down as he places kisses down your inner thighs.

"You're so beautiful," he says while still kneeling on the floor, looking at you with wonder in his eyes like he's seeing of divine.

That inexplicably makes you feel like a goddess and he's on his knees worshipping you. Your hesitant hand makes it to his cheek and he keeps it there, pressing on it then kisses your wrist.

You offer your hand for him this time and help him get up from the floor after getting a boost of confidence from the way he's looking at you.

Taking a step closer, you embrace yourself and this moment, letting him in and take you places.

The kisses he planted all over your body are searing and you feel hot all over especially when he kisses you close to where you wanted him to be.

Both of you wanted it so much and your bodies can't hide it anymore. Without looking, you know you're drenched and his erection is hard to miss.

He pulls a condom out of his bedside drawer and you take it from him, wanting to do him this favor just so you can say it back to him once you roll the rubber down his length.

"And that's why safety is sexy," you say with a sly smile.

Even with your lack of experience in the sexual field, you can tell that it's not always about the performance. Not that Seungmin has problems with that, he's doing it very well, he's fucking you so hard that your body shakes with every thrust but it's the way he softly gazes into your eyes.

You don't even try to make your brain work, you just gaze back into his eyes and all of a sudden, he hastily kisses your open mouth.

"What are you thinking?" He asks with a tender caress on your cheek.

"Nothing," You shake your head and then blatantly say, "It just feels so good."

You don't even try to impress him, your brain is shutting down so everything you say is unfiltered, and that only amuses him more.

Seungmin takes both of your hands and interlaced them together, pinning them on each side of your pillow. With or without him picking up the pace, you're already on the brink of your climax.

"I think I'm—" You barely finish your sentence when you get hit by waves of pleasure.

You're whining against his lips as he keeps holding your hands tightly in his and puts them around his neck so you can hold him as you relish your orgasm.

A few kisses later, you have Seungmin spooning you from behind and his hand is freely exploring your body while he keeps your mouth busy with more kisses.

"Can I have you again?" He softly asks and you nod without thinking.

The sight of his member makes you feel intimidated at first but you surprised yourself at how well you took him earlier. The intimidating feeling is now being replaced by the craving to have him inside you again.

Seungmin holds your thigh still as he pushes his cock from behind and you whine as you feel him entering you little by little.

"Oh, you're so hard," you mindlessly blurt out again.

Seungmin tolerates you so much but instead of getting offended, he brings his mouth close to your ear.

"That's how much I want you," he shamelessly admits at the same time he launches his cock deep inside you.

"Oh!" You moan and muffle yourself with the back of your hand.

He takes your hand away from your mouth, "Keep making those noises for me, baby."

-

It's like a dream or maybe it is and the worst part of dreaming is that it stops the moment you wake up.

If it wasn't for the morning sun that forces you to wake up, you'd still be living in your dream. Alas, you prepare yourself to be disappointed but when you open your eyes, you realize that it's not a dream.

You're naked under the cover and you're sleeping on his bed,

It happened so that means Seungmin is... you roll to the other side to find the space next to you is empty except for the crumpled sheet.

"I'm here," Seungmin must have seen you looking so disoriented on the bed.

You smile out of embarrassment and lift yourself while clutching the duvet close to your chest. You watch as he makes his way to the bed carrying two mugs of what you assume is coffee from the heavenly smile of it.

He sits on the edge of the bed and sweetly greets, "Morning!"

You're about to say it back to him when he presses a quick peck on your lips. It takes you a while to reel yourself back from the kiss and finally reply, "Morning!"

He finally hands you one of the coffee mugs and you take it with both hands, inhaling the heavenly smell of it before taking a small, careful sip.

Seungmin brushes your hair away and puts it behind your ear, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder before taking a sip of his coffee.

"What do you usually do in the morning?" He asks.

"Not much. Just breakfast, coffee, check emails, reading the news," you regret telling him your boring mundane things and stop yourself from embarrassing you more.

"How about you?"

"I wake up, toast and coffee. I go back to sleep when I don't have work to do," he calmly answers with his hair looking fluffy and inviting you to touch.

"Are you working on something?" You curiously ask since he seems so laid back or maybe it's just you who likes to keep yourself busy at all times.

"Not really but I'll be working on a few things this summer," he replies and puts away his coffee mug, "It's summer break, isn't it?"

"Yes," you shortly reply.

Seungmin places his hand on your back shoulder and draws lazy circles on the skin with his finger, "Do you have any plans for summer break?"

You stall by taking another sip of your coffee before embarrassing yourself again, "No."

His fingers trail down your spine as he softly sighs, "Then you're going to spend the summer with me."

You are usually opposed to a spontaneous idea like this. You need plans, you need orders yet you turn your head to the side to look at him, then say, "Okay."

"Okay," he repeats and leans in to kiss you.

And just like that, a plan is made.

-

Time is relative.

When you spend the day on your own, it feels like forever but when you spend the summer with Seungmin, a month passes by so quickly.

In conclusion, Albert Einstein was always right.

With Seungmin, you're living the dream life. You're wearing his clothes, living in his place, sleeping on his bed, riding on his bike to explore new places together, you're spending your time with him in your wake and you still miss him in your sleep. Gosh! You're getting loopy in the head.

Seungmin has work to do today, he offered to take you with him but you have to check your place, you're responsible for taking care of it while the other occupant is away on a road trip.

He drops you off outside your apartment building, taking off his helmet just so he can properly kiss you before letting you go.

"I'll pick you up later," he says.

"Okay. Be careful!" you place a long kiss on his lips for the last time, watching him ride further away from you.

The good news is the place is still intact and tidy just like the last time you see it. You clean up the place knowing that it's collecting dust, packing some clean underwear and clothes for you to take to Seungmin's place.

Not sure what time Seungmin will be done with work but seeing a stack of books abandoned for weeks, you decide to return them to the library before getting fined for it.

It feels strange not coming to the library for weeks and the smell of books hits you with a wave of nostalgia. You take your books out of your bag to the librarian lady who's just as surprised to see you when she usually gets sick of seeing you.

"Haven't seen you in a long time," she says while fixing her glasses.

You politely laugh and keep it low remembering that it's a library, "I suddenly have a different plan for the summer."

You're waiting by the desk as she thoroughly checks if there's any damage to the books when someone injects himself into the conversation.

"And the so-called plan is slacking off the whole summer?" Minho says, carrying a stack of books in one hand that makes the veins on his arms pop on his skin.

You turn around and sneer at him, "I'm trying this new thing called 'Get-A-Life' and I think you should try it too."

Minho puts the books down on top of the desk with a low thud, "I'm actually on this thing called 'Get-A-Summer-Job' and I think it works wonders on me."

You look away from him and secretly make a mocking face. The librarian lady pushes a form for you to sign and your phone beeps with a new message.

She glares at you for forgetting to put your phone in silent mode, "I'm sorry."

You hurriedly open to check a new message from Seungmin that he'll be done in two hours and you write a quick reply telling him you'll be waiting for him.

"You know I started to get concerned that you may have decided to give up," Minho says as he keeps the door open for both of you.

The stinging rays of the sun greet you as you step outside, reminding you to stay indoors or look for a shade to shelter in.

"I may be slacking off but once the summer ended, you know that I have never left my place," you tell him with eyes squinted from the bright sun.

Minho slings his backpack on one shoulder, "and that is behind me."

You sigh and shield your eyes with your hand, "It's summer break and you meant to be slacking off on summer break."

And you have two hours to spend on your own before Seungmin can pick you up, unless...

"You're supposed to have fun, you know and I can show you how," You suggest an idea with a grin.

He unlocks his bicycle from the rack and backs it out, he's probably analyzing your intention with his piercing stare, "What do you have in mind?"

You blank out for a moment from being under the sun for too long, "You and me, cold beers?"

"You mean, 'you and I'," he fixes your grammar.

You hold yourself from snapping at him and exhale air, "You know what, I'll just—"

"Okay. But you're paying," he immediately changes his mind.

There's a dive bar nearby where students usually go whenever they need to hit the snooze button on stressful university life and it's way cheaper than the other bars in the area.

You're having a sandwich aside from the cold beers while Minho settles on a tray of chips for the snacks.

"You can just tell me you need someone to accompany you having lunch," he says.

As expected, he's too smart to miss a thing. Not that you're afraid to have lunch by yourself, he happened to be there so why not?

"You can have a sandwich for lunch too," you tell him.

He shakes his head and pulls out a book from his backpack, "I had lunch."

You shrug and take another bite, "Then order as many cold beers as you want."

Minho starts reading his book, sticking his sharp nose in between pages and taking a sip of his beer once in a while.

"Where have you been though?"

You look up from your meal and wipe your mouth with a napkin, "Pardon?"

"I thought I'd be seeing your missing poster on the morning news," he says as he flips a page.

You know he's joking but his calm expression tells you otherwise, "Oh, my God! You're officially diabolical," you shriek.

He puts his book down and looks at you, "Have you ever thought I'd be most likely the one being asked about your whereabouts?"

"I've been going around the city with someone and I know that you don't care but he's an old friend of mine," You recline on your seat and cross your arms together in front of you.

"You can stop worrying about what you're going to tell the police if I went missing," you tell him with a smirk.

Minho takes the information for a moment as if it were a piece of information that needs to be thoroughly processed before going back to his default setting of being a nonchalant being.

He rests his back on his seat and picks up his book to continue reading.

After receiving a text that Seungmin is on the way to pick you up, you paid for the food and beers. The day is warm with the sun almost disappears for the day.

"Do you need to 'Get-A-Ride' too?" He pokes fun at you as he walks his bicycle.

"You must have waited hours to say that back to me," you say with a sigh.

"I can give you a ride home. Just like that morning," he smirks as he gets on his bicycle.

"No, thanks, Minho. I'm getting myself a ride home," you tell him.

He stays on his bicycle with his hands on the handlebars and looks at you, "Do you want me to wait with you?"

Minho actually knows how to be a gentleman, he just chooses to act snobby and cold around you.

"No, it's okay. He'll be here in a minute," you assure him.

He contemplates for a while before putting his foot on the paddle, "Okay, then. Thank you for the beers!"

You smile and wave your hand at him as he rides his bike in the direction of his apartment building.

A few minutes after Minho leaves, Seungmin appears with the sound of the roaring engine of his motorcycle. You're smiling as you're seeing him getting closer and closer.

He takes his helmet off and stays on his bike, watching you walk up to him.

"Hey," you say with a smile.

"I'm sorry, I have a girlfriend," he jokingly says.

You stop on your track, but seeing the sly smile on his face, you know he's playing with you, "Well then, can I get a ride?"

He gestures for you to come closer so he can whisper into your ear, "Oh, you'll get a ride for sure."

As the bike stop at a traffic light, Seungmin would either hold your hand or bring it close to his mouth to kiss it. Tonight, he chooses to rest his hand on your thigh with his gloved finger rubbing the skin.

When the lights about to turn green, he puts both of your hands around his waist. You hold him tight with your head resting on his back as he speeds up, sending the bike gliding through the city streets.

The ride gives you a new kind of high.

Seungmin knows how to get the engine hot and ready, using his hands or his mouth to get you even wetter than you already are. His touch is searing and firm, calculated to make you roar in pleasure. His mouth is hotter than the sun on a summer day, setting you ablaze every time his lips touch your skin.

He knows when to slow down and to speed up, he knows how to brake before sending you to your high early. When he knows that you're close though, he accelerates, he's going all in and freely riding on your body.

Faster and faster, knowing no limits, not stopping until both of you crash and break into smithereens, floating in immense pleasure.

The rush, the adrenaline, the ragged breath of life and death. There's nothing like it.

The ride is worth the high.

-

When Seungmin isn't working you spend the days exploring new places together.

He's been lending you one of his cameras so you can take your own pictures on the trips you take together on his bike. He taught you how to develop films in his little red room, he's patient enough to teach you every step of the process and not let you touch dangerous chemicals without him watching.

Seungmin also takes your pictures at every chance he gets, doesn't matter if you've just woken up or in the shower, sleeping, or eating a toast on the bed. Pretty sure he's running out of films just taking that kind of picture of you.

It's only fair that you take pictures of him too.

The first thing Seungmin does in the morning is make coffee and he takes his coffee seriously. He grinds the coffee beans himself, he boils the water until it hits the perfect temperature of 205 Fahrenheit before pouring it and he lets the coffee drips into a glass pot.

For you, Seungmin looks the sexiest when he's putting on a serious face. His jaws tensed, making his facial bones more defined and his mouth is slightly pouting without him realizing it. You have taken, at least, a dozen pictures of him looking like that in your camera.

As he waits for the coffee to be ready, he will come to the bed for some cuddles with you or discuss which part of the city you're going to explore today.

Today his routine slightly changes after handing you your coffee, "I'll be away the whole day for work."

"Another photo shoot?" You wildly guess.

He blows over his coffee before taking a sip, "Got invited to a photography club," he vaguely says.

Seungmin invited you when he wanted you to come with him but he didn't today so you guess he wanted to go by himself. It's time for you to get some clean underwear anyway.

"Okay," you answer with a smile.

"How are you going to spend the day?" He asks with a soft caress on your cheek.

"Well, there's not much to do without you," you say with a pout, "I think I'll just go home and get a few things."

Seungmin smiles and presses a kiss on your lips, "Don't bother packing any underwear. You're hardly wearing one around me."

You break into laughter, "Well, thanks to you."

"Are you going to wait for me?" He softly asks, twirling a strand of your hair around his slender finger.

"Always," you answer without a beat.

"I'll pick you up later?"

"Yes, please."

The photography club is doing an outdoor session and it's in the neighboring city, Seungmin leaves after taking a shower and kisses you while you're still snuggling in bed.

You leave Seungmin's apartment in the afternoon, waiting until the day is a little cooler before getting out. You take a taxi to avoid the heat and come home to find that someone is in the apartment.

Taking a cautious step, you peer inside Rina's bedroom which you always left the door closed at all times is wide open. You spot the bathroom door is open as well and decide to check it by tiptoeing until you're right next to the doorway.

Slowly, you peer inside and find Rina in the tub. You barge your way inside and shout, "Rina!"

She's just as surprised as you that she's sloshing water out of the tub, "Fuck! You scared me!"

You hurriedly put a towel for the puddles of water on the bathroom floor, "why are you here?"

"I live here," she innocently replies.

"Yeah, I know but there's still a week left on the summer break," your eyes shift to the box of macaroons on the side of the tub and you can tell right away that the answer is not going to be good.

"Joe and I broke up," she says and shoves a whole macaroon into her mouth.

You kind of saw it coming but you don't want to be in her face saying I-told-you-so. You choose to be a good friend and sit on the closed toilet, "Oh, no, what happened?"

She shakes her head and stuffs her mouth with more macaroon, "That jerk dropped me off in the middle of nowhere!"

"Oh, my God! He's the worst!" You say while disgustingly looking at the crumbs of the macaroon floating on the surface of the water.

Rina has always been the brightest and the most confident out of you two. It's saddening how miserable she looks right now when she can get any man who's twice better than Joe.

"Why don't we get drinks tonight?"

Rina gives you a puzzled look, "You once said it's a bad idea to turn to alcohol in times like this."

You meekly nod because you did say that to her but that was coming from the you who hasn't met Seungmin, "It's true but... why not, you know? As long as I'm there watching over your alcohol intake, I think we'll be okay."

Rina can't get out of the tub faster than this, she doesn't even bother putting on a towel and walking to her bedroom naked.

"What happened to you?" She asks after taking three shots of Jägerbomb as a starter.

"Nothing happened. Just met a guy, not much," you nonchalantly answer and take just a tiny sip of your first shot.

"Met a guy? That means a lot coming from you," she says, chasing after her tequila shots with a glass of coke and rum.

You would be offended if she wasn't a friend but she's always been an outspoken person, "I'll introduce you to him someday."

That reminds you to send a text to Seungmin telling him you'll be sleeping in the house tonight and most likely take care of Rina's hangover the next morning.

"For your information, this guy drives a motorcycle," Minho appears out of nowhere carrying his drink in his hand, and plops down next to you.

"Oh, Minho! I miss seeing your pretty face," Rina half-heartedly says.

"And I miss seeing you drunk," he says back.

You elbow his side and stop him from spoiling more about Seungmin, not the right time to tell Rina about him when she's heartbroken and halfway drunk.

"What's going on, Rina?" Minho coyly asks, ignoring your warning glare.

She lets out a heavy sigh and stacks her hands on the table before resting his chin on it, "Never fucking date artists," she gives him an irrelevant answer.

"They're cocky, they think they're mighty and right and know the world better," she rambles on and on.

Rina gulps her drink and not even wince at the bitter aftertaste, "Fuck them and their free-spirited shit."

Minho holds his drink with one hand even with the drops of the condensation rolling down his hand, "Once the free spirit has taken hold of a man, there's no way of getting it out of him."

Rina looks at him with unfocused eyes then raises her glass at him, "Damn right!"

It doesn't mean that all artists in general. Even though Seungmin is an artist, it doesn't mean that he'll act the same as Joe. He's kind and caring, he's intuitive. He may be spontaneous to the point of almost impulsive, but he's great. You don't know why you should feel called out with what Rina has said.

Minho kindly offers his help to walk Rina up the stairs until you get her to her bed. You take off her shoes and cover her with the duvet.

"Want a glass of water?" It's the least you can do for him after helping you carry drunk Rina.

"Yeah, please," he still catches his breath when he answers to you.

"How do you know the guy I'm seeing drives a motorcycle?" The question just sort of pops into your head.

Minho drains the glass of water before answering, "I saw you and him at the intersection the other day."

Seungmin has been giving you rides to and fro, it'll be impossible if Minho hasn't seen you on the street once. You walk him to the threshold and watch as he walks out the door.

"Thank you for the help," you mutter.

"No problem," he coyly says.

A moment passes just you and him looking at each other as he stands there with a line drawn in between.

"Goodnight, Minho," you say for the last time.

"Goodnight," he says back with his voice low.

-

Rina's words are lingering in your head after not getting a reply from Seungmin the whole night.

Maybe he forgot or his phone died. There are so many possibilities but he is your Seungmin, you knew him from kindergarten, he may have gotten rid of the glasses and the braces, but it's Seungmin.

One thing for certain is to avoid talking about Seungmin, especially his profession when Rina is still in this state, a mix of hangover and still completely heartbroken.

"I bought you soup," you murmur as you brush her hair while she's still sleeping on her bed.

Rina is slightly stirring in her sleep and snuggling to her pillow.

"Heat it before you eat it okay? It'll help with the hangover," you tell her again.

She hums in reply and clutches at her duvet even though the day is warm since it's almost noon. You quietly leave the apartment to go to Seungmin's place.

You smile the second you see him standing next to his camera collection while cleaning one of them with a small cloth.

"I miss you," you murmur as you hug him from the back.

Seungmin carefully puts down the camera, then pulls your hand, turning around on his feet to see you. He looks at you up and down, then flicks his eyes back at you.

Oh, you forgot how meticulous he can be. He probably notices that it's the same dress you were about to wear on the first date.

He cups your jaw in his hand and compliments, "You're beautiful!"

Oh, that's not what you expected him to say but it's good. Maybe it's because you've been wearing jeans a lot with him that he finds you looking different in a dress.

"Now, give me a twirl!" He orders as he takes one of the cameras.

"You want me to–" you ask for confirmation before you're embarrassing yourself as usual.

"Yes. Spin for me!" He has his camera ready and aimed at you.

You take a step backward and spin on your feet for him, sending the hem of your dress floating around you. You keep spinning as he endlessly takes pictures without stopping.

"I'm getting dizzy," you tell him while half laughing.

Seungmin is also laughing and he finally stops taking pictures, he walks up to you to wrap his arms around you. He stares into your eyes for a moment, then softly kisses you on the lips.

"I miss you too," he says against your lips.

You don't want to sound demanding but seeing Rina going through her heartbreak reminds you to be cautious about who you're giving your heart to.

"You didn't reply to my text," you tell him with your hands on his chest.

"I'm sorry," he simply apologizes.

That should be enough. He knows he's at fault and he apologizes for it, that should be enough to put your mind at ease. Or so you thought.

"I have something for you," he takes you to the bedroom and sits you down at the end of the bed.

Seungmin is rummaging inside his backpack to pull out something, it's something familiar, a pack of jelly candies. You can confirm as he opens it right in front of you and he takes one of the ring-shaped jelly.

"Do you remember this?"

You stare at it and remember this is how you and him became parents to Sisyphus, you got married at the playground with him putting on the same jelly ring on your thumb because your fingers were too small for it back then.

You nod as the memory is playing in the back of your head, "Of course."

Seungmin smiles and puts the jelly ring on your ring finger, kisses it after. You and him look at each other and somehow it feels like you're getting transported back in time to when you were both still five years old.

"I'm happy that we meet again," he intertwines his hand with yours on your lap.

"Me too," you say with a gentle squeeze on his hand.

Meeting him again feels like fate and for once, you're not going to search for any logical reasons behind it. You want to let go, you want to set yourself free.

You close your eyes and lean in until your lips meet the softness of his lips, melting them together into a kiss that breaks your heart open.

Seungmin lays you down on the bed and then he lays down next to you, his hand trailing the side of your body while his lips endlessly brushing over yours.

"It's crazy how I can't stop kissing you," he mutters with his lips glistening wet and red.

Hearing that only makes you want to kiss him more. You overlap half of his body with yours, your leg is hooked around his leg as his hand now resting on the arch of your back.

He draws his hand back to the nape of your neck to find the zipper of your dress, then he pulls it down slowly. The zipping sound echoes in the room that is now flooded with the afternoon sun.

After parting it open, he wastes no time to slip his hand and touches your skin. He reluctantly lets go of the kiss and props his elbow against the mattress as you stay lying on your stomach next to him.

With only his fingertips, he lightly touches your skin before replacing them with his lips, making a trail of kisses down your spine.

You lowly moan for every wet kiss he plants on your skin and moan as he crashes his lips on you again, kisses you so hungrily. When you think his hand will stop where the zipper ends, it keeps going until it stops on the back of your thigh, right where the hem of your dress is.

"Gosh! You're so soft..." he speaks so low it's almost like a whisper.

Seungmin puts his hand under and gently squeezes on the flesh on the back of your thigh, his finger is teasing the lacey fabric of your underwear.

Your hand makes its way to the collar of his shirt, popping the buttons open by yanking at it while trying to keep up with his kisses.

He's palming your ass cheek in his hands long enough until he can't help himself, he parts your legs open to make a space so he can touch you there.

You're moaning into his mouth as he slides his finger inside you, he pulls it out only to add another finger into you. You feel full with two digits inside you but that's because he knows what to do with them.

"Oh, Seungmin..." you sigh with your eyes fluttering shut.

You have to actively tell your brain to drag your hand down his bare chest and touch him there, doing the same favor for him.

His semi-hard cock sprung out of its confine the second you pull his underwear down, wrapping your hand around it and slowly stroking it, up and down as slow as the way he kisses you right now.

With the bright daylight, you can see that his cock is red and veiny, pulsing with so much desire in your hand. Using your thumb, you rub the tip in slow, circular motions.

"I can feel you clenching around my fingers," his lips brush yours as he speaks.

You giggle in response and that only exhilarates him more that he tugs at your lower lip and gently bites at it, "I'm so impatient to be inside you."

You hastily kiss him with tongue and all, "Want you inside me too," you whine.

Sex used to be something that makes you anxious and falls apart from the inside. However, with Seungmin, it's so easy and natural, that you're not afraid to ask for what you want, where you want to be touched, and how you want to be touched.

Most times you believe it's not the sex itself that makes the whole experience good but it's the way he treats you during and even after the sex.

Seungmin turns to your neck, littering the sensitive skin with hot and wet kisses. Each kiss is longer than the previous until he pulls away with a low gasp.

"I have to tell you that we run out of sexy," he suddenly shares.

You look at him in confusion, "Huh?"

He softly kisses your jaw and then your lips, "We're running out of condoms."

With how often you have sex, it's no surprise that the two of you blow a big budget on condoms. But you're always taking your birth control even when you're not that sexually active and you trust Seungmin to do it without the second layer of protection.

"We can do it without," you tell him.

Seungmin looks like he has just received a piece of news that's hard for him to comprehend. He only looks at you with eyes wide and filled with unexplainable glints.

"Are you on birth control?" He asks for confirmation.

"Yes."

"Is it okay with you?"

"I trust you," you earnestly tell him.

Seungmin softly smiles hearing your words before leaning in, kissing you ever so softly like he's kissing the wind.

Taking his position by hovering above you and you're still lying on your stomach under him, he lifts the hem of your dress, then pulls your underwear down.

He throws away his shirt and takes his time to tease your entrance with his cock, either he does it to prepare you or himself.

You look over his shoulder to see that Seungmin is putting on a serious face, "We can take it slow."

He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, "I like slow."

The speed is not the issue here, a raw groan rips out of him as he pushes his hard cock inside you. Without the layer of protection, his cock becomes sensitive and he can fully feel you, how your walls wrapped so tightly around him.

He curves his hands under yours and buries his head in your neck, taking a moment to adjust himself inside you. You guide his hand to fondle your clothed breasts together with him.

"You feel good inside me," you mewl as he plants his mouth on your shoulder.

His cock feels incredibly good and hard, you can feel it throbbing as you said those words to him. It's like having sex for the first time again.

"Oh, you have no idea," he sighs with a haste kiss on your lips.

Seungmin is thrusting into you just as he promised, slow and steady. You crumple the sheet under you as you're cumming already around him, not sure if he knows as he keeps the motion of his hips going.

He pauses to change positions, turning you over to lay on your back this time, and this way, you can see how magnificent he looks under the sun.

The broad shoulders, the tousled hair, the clenched jaws, and the muscles on his body, oh, Seungmin is just perfect.

"You're perfect..." you say with a dreamy sigh.

He can see the admiration in your eyes as you stare at him with your hands turned up on the bed, he softly smiles and leans in to kiss you.

"No, you're perfect," he says back with his face only inches away from yours.

Seungmin knows how to take control as he adds speed to his thrusting, sending you close to your second orgasm. He loses control a little after you cum, holding your hands by the wrists and pinning them on each side of your head.

"Mmh, yes, yes..." you moan, getting closer and closer to your climax.

From the way he's throbbing inside you, you reckon he's close to his high as well. He's not stopping even after you're cumming for the second time, he keeps chasing and chasing...

"Oh, fuc—" his curse falls short as he collapses on top of you.

"You're cumming inside me, mmh?" Your hand is tangled deep in his soft locks.

That reminds him of what he should have done, pulling out of you as he planned but you stop him, holding him close as he's coming down from his high.

"Stay inside me," you say as you hold the side of his face and let him crumble into your arms.

The two of you spending the rest of the afternoon nestling on the bed, cuddling and talking, passing time like this with him feels even more intimate than sex.

Seungmin takes your hand and makes a trail of kisses down your inner arm, stopping when his lips meet your knuckles. He takes your finger adorned with the jelly ring and puts it into his mouth, taking the jelly ring with him and chewing on it.

"You eat our wedding ring!" You blurt out.

He pecks your lips, "I'm hungry. Let's order something!"

There's only one week left to summer break and you want to enjoy every second you get to spend with Seungmin, even though you have to lie to Rina about the guy you're staying in with, you're not going to let anything get in the way of your happiness.

After dinner, you both take a shower together. Seungmin offers to wash your hair for you, his fingers applying gentle pressure on your scalp and meticulously washing the suds off your hair before moving on to wash your body for you.

He stands behind you, one hand holding one side of your waist while the other is slowly lathering your skin with a bar of soap.

Even though you're taking a cold shower, it doesn't stop the temperature from rising inside the shower. His lips taste cold and warm when he kisses you, his hands are slippery yet firm, and the heat his body is emitting seeps into you as he holds you close against him.

The second both of your naked bodies hit the bed, it's instant coziness. You feel snug and content lying so close to him under the cover.

"I don't want summer to end," you sadly tell him.

"Me too," he seconds your remark.

Keeping your head still with his hand holding your chin, he slowly kisses you with his eyes closed, "Goodnight," he softly murmurs.

You give him a long peck on the lips in return and say it back to him, "Goodnight."

It's almost 1 a.m. The summer night is peeking through the windows with the stars winking at you and the warm breeze slipping through the cracks of the windows caresses your cheeks. You can't sleep. You are happy.

-

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[ot9snumber1]

masterpiece

artist!son chaeyoung x reader

summary: sana's curious about that painting hung on your wall

warnings: pure smut, fucking on the canvas, implied poly!sachaeng x reader

notes: "quick blurb" to celebrate chae's day that turned into a short fic! dedicated to @nr1chaedickrider of course <3

—

you notice that sana had been staring off into the distance, her hand constantly swirling the wine as the gears turn in her head.

you follow her gaze, looking back to see chaeyoung's newest painting. to anyone else, it was unintelligible. the colors were splashed together in an almost unharmonious way, creating ugly browns in the midst of bright pinks and yellows.

to you, it was chaeyoung's greatest act of love.

"is that chaeyoung's new painting?" she asks, crossing one leg over the other. you nod, feeling the excitement creep up your neck at the thought of her figuring out what it meant. you didn't need to explain it, really, sana was a smart girl.

"looks nice." she smiles knowingly, finally sipping her drink. "you must have really inspired her." sana adds, her expression teasing. you laugh.

"you could say that, yeah."

—

chaeyoung's careful not to get any paint on her hand, making sure the lower half of your body doesn't either.

one hand is on your boob, massaging gently as she continues to push her tongue inside of your mouth. "fuck—chae—" you groan, making her smile as her fingers slowly run along your folds.

"yeah, baby, keep moving like that." chaeyoung whispers against your ear, smile growing devilish as you continue to squirm around the canvas. you aren't sure how your back hasn't hurt from the rough texture—you'd guess it was the wet paint saving you. (though, you hated how it was definitely going to dry in your hair later.)

chaeyoung's fingers slowly enter your pulsing core, slow and steady just to watch you get desperate. "shit—faster!" you breathe out, paint–covered hands reaching up to grab chaeyoung's shoulders. she didn't care if you'd leave colorful stains on her skin, it was just part of her artistic process.

she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, eyes hungry and tongue poking out as she quickens the flicks of her wrist. "anything for you, baby. just keep moving like that, yeah?" she hums, knowing her words fall on deaf ears as your eyes roll back from the feeling of her cold ring graze your entrance with every thrust.

chaeyoung doesn't tease you today. she doesn't make you beg, nor does she degrade you like she usually did. this was more than having you writhe under her—it was her sharing her greatest passion with her greatest love.

she only observes, holding your waist with one hand while the other continues to fuck you good. she's bordering on being rough, her moves were almost calculated. chaeyoung knew you like the back of her hand. she knew exactly how to get you to squirm as much as the painting needed you to.

you don't even have to tell her that you were close, the way your grip tightened on her shoulders and how your teeth caught your bottom lip was enough. "that's my girl." she smiles tenderly as her fingers curl inside you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body as you ride out your high.

her pace slows down as she peppers gentle kisses all over your face, slowly rubbing your thighs with her other hand.

"five minutes and it's your turn to paint." chaeyoung whispers, pulling you up to sit.

you turn around to see that the canvas was only half–colored. the other half was reserved for chaeyoung's body to come undone on.

you smile excitedly, grabbing chaeyoung's cheeks and kissing her.

—

"i helped her with it."

"i can tell." sana replies. you were both standing in front of the painting now, each and every 'stroke' clear to her eyes.

she clears her throat, turning to you.

"you should tell chae to invite me next time. i'm really good at painting, y'know?" she whispers, hand on your ass.

it was a death wish for you, you think. you could hardly handle them one at a time, much less the two of them fucking you hard enough just so you'd move around the canvas.

it didn't sound like a terrible idea, though.

"i'll keep that in mind."

#son chaeyoung x reader #chaeyoung x reader #son chaeyoung smut #twice smut #twice imagines #son chaeyoung imagines

[catcze]

Anonymous asked: OK SO FIRST UR WRITING IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE, like jaw dropping somethings been plaguing my mind recently wriosthesley with a reader with a secret crush on him, and like SINGWINNIE BEING THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS but then he soon finds out cuz yk.. he’s literally the warden of the fortress of meropide cmon now there’s no hiding anything from him

!!! lemme just say that i love love love Sigewinne so much, and in situations, I can 100% see her being in-the-know about things, especially since she's (and correct me if I'm wrong) studying human behaviour? right?

She would deffo pick up on the way that you smile brighter whenever Wriothesley is around. And how you always smile and look away whenever he compliments you. And how your supposedly busy afternoon has been cleared the moment he invites you to afternoon tea.

Sigewinne finds it kinda cute, and she wasn't planning on saying anything about it to anyone (certainly not the duke himself) but one day when she's puttering about his office, snacking on whatever he had offered her, he breaks the ice. A few minutes after you leave his office, a pep in your step, he turns to Sigewinne.

"So..." he drawls. "A crush, huh?"

"I don't know what you're implying, your grace," is her immediate response. Wriothesley isn't deterred, though, and the small smile on his face doesn't waver.

"About—" his eyes flick to the door that you exited out of, then back to her. "I never really noticed at first but... It's sweet," he says. That smile of his turns fond, and he looks down at his desk absently, his cheek resting on a fist. Sigewinne raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing as she watches him.

"I see," she says, her own lips curling a bit. After all, when does one have the opportunity of seeing the Duke grow smitten with someone? "Well, if you wish to address this crush, now is as good as a time as any. I doubt you'd have to run very fast to catch up."

"Hah, is that so?" He asks, but stands all the same. Without another word to her, he trots down the stairs in his office and runs out, the doors shutting behind him with a muted bang.

Sigewinne sighs, still smiling. All she has to do now is wait for the happy news later in the day.

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

#「 🐈‍⬛ 」 strawberry.cupcakes #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #cw gn reader #AAA FORMATTING ISSUES AND I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ASK 😭😭 #But thank you so so much babe !! I'm happy you like my writing :D

[lees-chaotic-brain]

For your recent event can I request

Blue Ocean and #2

Thank you

Three Little Words (Gojo x Reader)

CW: rejection, blood, slight spoilers for the jjk movie, implied past satosugu i guess, mutual pining, reader is female, implied death, brief mentions of blood, mentions of injury

Event Masterlist | Event Guide | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

"Sorry, not interested."

Three little words. Three little words was all it took to shatter your heart.

You had spent the last three years of your life trying to track down the person attached to the other end of your soulmate thread.

All that time spent hoping. All that time spent daydreaming about what he would be like, only for this.

For you to meet him because he was your new coworker, and fellow teacher at Jujutsu Tech. For him to reject you upon first sight.

You hadn't even spoken a word yet. All it took was him glancing at the red ribbon connecting the two of you for him to shut you down.

Your mind went blank. There was no way you heard him correctly, right...?

"What?"

"I'm not interested."

He stated casually, as if he was just commenting on the weather.

"You-You don't even know my name yet!"

With all logic having flown out the window, this was the best you could come up with.

"Oh, you're right. What's your name?"

Stupefied, you told him.

"That's pretty. Anyways, it's not you, it's me."

Taking your blank gaze as understanding, he perked up.

"My name's Gojo Satoru. I hope we can be friends!"

With an enthusiastic handshake, he was off, leaving you standing in shock, unsure of what just happened.

Reaching up and touching your cheek, you were surprised to find that it was wet.

Huh, that was strange. When did you start crying?

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Days turned to weeks turned to months.

At first, things were a little awkward between you and your soulmate.

You were hurt, angry and confused. But the more time you spent with him, the more those feelings ebbed away, his presence a balm that soothed all your hurts and insecurities.

Why. Why did he have to reject you? Why did he have to be so insufferable? Why did he have to be so goddamn attractive? Why did he have to be aware that he was so goddamn attractive?

Why couldn't he send you any clear signals?

One day he was playfully calling you his 'best bud' while the two of you played pranks on Nanami or got into mischief.

And the next he was tenderly cupping your cheek and running his thumb over the dark bags under your eyes; concern evident on his face as he quietly asked if you were doing okay, and telling you to take a break.

And if he really wasn't interested, why didn't he officially break the soulmate bond? Why did he change the subject every time you tried to bring it up?

It was driving you insane. You were falling for him. And hard. But the echo of his words replayed in your head every time you considered broaching the subject.

You didn't know what to do.

So you did the only thing you could; you kept it professional. After all, the two of you were coworkers, nothing more, nothing less.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Gojo was tired of just being your coworker.

He wanted more. Had wanted more from the moment he laid eyes on your breathtaking face.

Sure, it had broken a visceral part of him to reject you, but if it was to keep you safe, he would do it a million times over.

However, no matter how much he told himself he couldn't be with you, that he had to officially sever the soulmate bond, he couldn't bring himself to officially break the tie that made the two of you soulmates.

The more time he spent with you, the more time he got to spend with you, the harder he fell.

He had never felt like this towards anyone. The only person that had ever come close before this had been Suguru, but his relationship with him had been soured by the fact that they both knew Gojo's soulmate was out there.

But when you were in his life, his entire world lit up. Everything was brighter and more vibrant. He felt like you saw him for Satoru, the man he was, instead of the burdens fate and Jujutsu society had placed upon his shoulders.

So selfishly he had kept the soulmate bond intact.

And now, staring at your mangled form laying before him, the precious blood that belonged in your veins leaking out onto the floor as you struggled to breathe, he remembered.

He remembered why he wasn't allowed to love. Why he had pushed you away.

God, he was so stupid to think that Suguru wouldn't go after you. He was so stupid for believing that his friend wasn't irredeemable.

And his stupidity and selfishness could very well cost you your life.

"You never change, do you."

Only then did Gojo realize that he had been speaking aloud, voicing his inner turmoil as the two people he cared for most lay dying before him.

Suguru coughed, wincing as the motion aggravated his injuries.

"You say that she's injured because you selfishly clung to your soulmate bond, right?"

"What are you implying Suguru?"

Gojo asked, weariness and heartbreak in his voice as he applied pressure to your injuries. He couldn't take you to get help until he took care of Suguru, but he wanted to give his former best friend a chance to say his last words.

"What I'm saying is that she got hurt because you were selfish, yes, but not in the way you think you were. You aren't selfish because you refuse to break the bond. You were selfish because you kept your distance. You could've come to her rescue much earlier, but you didn't because doing so would admit that she meant something to you. And you were more comfortable keeping her at a distance, because you didn't want to have to fear losing her."

Suguru sighed, shifting to a more comfortable position.

"You know, I never hated the people at Jujutsu Tech. If she survives, tell her how you really feel. She deserves at least that. And after that, tell her I'm sorry, okay."

Gojo barked a laugh, tears burning the backs of his eyes as a looming sense of grief and apprehension filled him. He knew what he had to do next.

"Okay, I will."

He smiled.

"Wingmanning me till the end. My best friend."

His face softened as he reminisced on better times.

"My one and only."

Suguru returned the smile, and Gojo finished him, gently closing his eyes afterwards.

Standing and wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned and picked you up, before stepping into a new chapter of his life.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

When you woke up, you were greeted by the bright white of the hospital ceiling.

Groaning, you attempted to sit up, only to be stopped by the massive man-child sprawled across your lap.

With a snort, he shot up, disoriented as he rejoined the land of the waking.

Noticing you were awake, he froze, before reaching out and grabbing your hands.

"Can I say something?"

"Right now?"

You asked, a little confused as to what could be so important that he was waiting at your bedside for you to wake up.

"Yes."

His unusually somber tome threw you off.

"Of course. What's the matter?"

"I'm so sorry."

"Um, I'm confused. For what?"

"For rejecting you. This is by no means any excuse, but the last person I was close to abandoned me. I was afraid to let anyone get close to me, but instead of facing my fear, I excused it by telling myself that if I let myself care for you then curses would target you to get to me. So I told myself that it was to protect you instead of acknowledging that I'm selfish coward who was just trying to protect myself-"

"Hold up."

You cut off his rambling, needing a moment to process.

"Are you trying to tell me that you rejected me because you were afraid that in the end I was going to betray you, but you were too emotionally constipated to acknowledge that, so instead you convinced yourself that you were pushing me away for my own protection?"

Downcast he nodded.

"And you're apologizing for that."

"Yes. If I had just protected you by staying by your side, you never would have gotten hurt! The only reason you're in here is because I was too scared to admit that I love you!"

You froze.

"Say it again."

"What."

"What you just said."

Realization dawned on Gojo's face, and his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.

"I love you."

He murmured shyly, looking at the comforter.

You leaned forwards and hugged him, burying your head in his chest.

"Again."

You whispered, lips brushing against the fabric of his uniform.

"I love you."

A content smile spread across your face.

"I'm still sorta pissed at you, but you have no idea how happy you just made me."

You said, nuzzling into his shirt.

"I love you too."

He froze in disbelief. There was no way you returned his feelings. He didn't deserve that.

"Do you really forgive me?"

"Mmmm, say it one more time for me."

"I love you."

"Okay I forgive you."

Finally at peace, you basked in the warmth from being in the arms of your soulmate.

Who knew that those three little words were all it took.

Three little words to heal your heart.

Cuddling with soulmate, you knew that you would be okay, as long as he continued to tell you those three little words.

You deep personal reflection was interrupted by Gojo's voice.

"Oh, by the way, Suguru says sorry."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

#lee's brain asks #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #soulmate au #angst to fluff #mutual pining #lee's 1 year anniversary event #crack ending #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x female reader

[from-the-clouds]

bad liars (savior complex ii) - joel miller x f!reader

part one | masterlist | song inspo |

Baby, you're a vampire You want blood and I promised...

summary: It's been a month since Joel has last seen you, fully healed since your last interaction. But you haven't spoken...at all. Your radio silence becomes cause for concern when he hears about an outbreak of Infected at the hospital where you work. There's enough explanation in this part that you could read it on it's own, probably, but I'd highly recommend reading part one first to get the full experience. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 7.9k warnings: SMUT - 18+ ONLY, minors DNI. (porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, oral, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, age gap. dom/sub dynamics.) Heavy angst, multiple POVs, implied drug abuse, alcohol use, canon-typical suffering! Blood mention. Both reader/Joel are insanely emotionally unavailable, and love to lie to themselves and each other! (please dm for specifics if you have any questions). a/n: Ya'll loved savior complex and I'm so happy! Literally don't think I've had a fic get that many notes before, i had so many requests for a part two and because it felt like i left things open-ended enough, this came to me pretty easily! It might be the horniest thing I've ever written and also very angsty (what's new?)....but I think you'll like the ending <3 Special to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about my writing and to @zbeez-outlet for the wonderful idea.

Joel exhales and runs his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair – the tips of which were frozen together from standing outside for so long. It had gotten cold out. Very cold. Boston always did this time of year, and because of it, people stayed in, and crime in the QZ dropped, making it a safer place - though that wasn’t saying much. 

Of course, the cold didn’t stop him from dealing. It did make his job a hell of a lot more difficult, since FEDRA was bored, out looking for trouble, and didn’t have more pressing matters to attend to. Although today, he must’ve been in luck, because the only sign of FEDRA had been helicopters and tanks that were clearly on a mission, driving to the opposite side of the QZ. Good, he had thought. A distraction. 

Joel leans back against the brick wall of the alleyway, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his ears, stares at the ice in the cracks of the pavement. When he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, he straightens.

The man approaching looks nervously over his shoulder, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his flimsy sweatshirt. Dave, a customer of his for some time. 

“You’re late,” Joel doesn’t bother with a proper greeting.

“I know, I know, I got held up on my way here,” Dave answers, immediately beginning his excuse. “They cleared out the hospital because of an outbreak, that whole area was locked down so I had to take the long way.”

“Outbreak?” Joel tilts his head.

“Infected. I guess a bunch of hospital staff got bit. FEDRA had to go in and put them all down.” 

Joel feels a distant pang of concern somewhere in the back of his head. “How many?”

Dave shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, man, that’s all I know. It’s not like they’ll ever tell anyone what actually happened.”

Joel can’t help but think of you. He knows a couple people who work at the hospital, most of them through smuggling, but you’re the only one who he’s really able to bring to mind at the moment.

“So, can we, uh…”

Joel pulls the plastic baggie out from his pockets, fishing out the pills. On his end, Dave produces a wad of credits, his shoulders sagging in relief once they’ve made the trade and the drugs are in his hand. He takes one immediately, shoves the rest in his pocket. “Thanks man, I’ll see you next week?”

Leaning back against the wall, he nods, and watches his customer disappear down the alleyway. 

The second Dave is out of sight, Joel’s chest tightens, and he takes a deep breath. There’s no reason why news of Infected at the hospital should concern him. If FEDRA had been called in – they would’ve gunned down anything that moved until it was under control. He knew, better than anyone, that they would do unspeakable things in the name of keeping order. Innocent people probably died, but the dead can’t get infected.

It had been about a month since Joel had last seen you, after he’d gotten beaten within an inch of his life and ended up on your doorstep, and you were the only person that could help. It hadn’t gone at all how he expected it would – at the end of the day, he had been surprised by your tenderness. 

Still, despite that you’d let him take you on the edge of your bed, legs wrapped around him, bouncing on his cock, he wouldn’t really say that it changed anything about your relationship. He had actually been kind of afraid that it would, that your attitude towards him would shift to something more amicable.

But you hadn’t spoken to him in a month. Joel had told you he owed you one after you stitched him up, and had anticipated that you’d take him up on his offer pretty quickly. There were so many things he could do for you to make your situation better. Maybe you’d need credits…. Medicine…. Food…. Booze… Pills, something, but you haven’t reached out. You could just be biding your time until you really need the favor.

Still, the radio silence takes him aback. He should be relieved that you aren’t talking to him. But nothing? Even if it’s not about a favor…he wants some kind of confirmation that you’d both made a mistake. After all that, did you really expect nothing from him?

It dawns on him there’s now a chance you’ll never speak to him again, because you’re one of the ones that FEDRA killed. Or worse….you had gotten bit. 

Joel passes by the hospital, taking the long way home. Everything is locked down, taped off. There’s a crowd around the place – family members, he assumes, pleading with FEDRA agents for information and getting nothing in return.

“Go home. I’m sure they’ll turn up,” he hears one of them say to a weeping woman. It’s useless to ask for an honest answer, for one of them to actually care. 

Joel could go home. He could crush a couple pills, snort them, and quell the burn with a couple drinks. He could fall into restless sleep and wake up the next day as he always did, go about his business as usual. Survive. One day at a time. 

Would he ever get confirmation that you’re alive? Because at this rate, he’s not sure he’ll ever know either way. 

The feeling is going to linger. He hates it. Were you gone? If you are, he can handle knowing. Its somehow worse not to. 

He tries to justify it to himself. You’re one of his solid connections to the hospital, you’d traded with him for medical supplies before. This is business, really, if he thinks about it that way. If you’re dead, he and Tess need to find someone else to work with. 

Joel decides to take a detour on the way back to his place.

It’s past curfew when he arrives at your apartment, the sun has long since dipped below the horizon and with that comes an even harsher cold. Boston winters, he thinks to himself. If he is capable of missing anything, he’d say he missed Texas. Before all this, the last place he’d be caught dead was on the East Coast. 

Joel raps on your front door. He forgets how shitty your building is, that you sleep here alone every night, listening to your neighbors arguing through the thin walls, shady characters slinking out of shadows in the dimly-lit hallway,

A few seconds pass. When he hears nothing behind your door, he knocks again, a little louder. 

More time passes. He knocks again, louder. Maybe you didn’t hear him. 

Nothing. He does it again. Could you be asleep? His jaw clenches.

Still nothing, and Joel knocks even louder. Maybe you’re not even here, and you work nights, and he’s just missed you as you head out for another shift. But he knows that’s unlikely. Since he’s known you, you’ve never worked nights. So where the fuck were you?

Joel’s pounds on your door, yells your name into its chipping paint. He listens for something, anything, on the other side, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, but he keeps going The side of his fist starts to hurt, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he hears one of your neighbors yelling from the end of the hallway. 

‘Shut the fuck up!’

Joel doesn’t hear exactly where the voice comes from, but it’s enough to snap him out of it. He halts his movements, his forehead falling against hollow wood, and in the silence, hears his heart pounding in his ears. 

“Fuck!” he kicks the wall just outside the frame of your door so hard the drywall gives, leaving a hole behind. “Fuck.”

He stares at the result of his outburst for an undetermined amount of time. You were all alone. To his knowledge, you had no immediate family to inform. Who would be around to remember you? He’d never really know for sure what had happened. 

“Joel?”

He looks up, his hands still clenched tightly into fists. When he sees that it’s you, standing at the end of the hallway, they loosen. 

You look horrible - haggard, tired, your hair tangled and matted. As you move closer to him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders are hunched underneath the weight of your backpack. But once you’re standing in front of him, you straighten, lift your chin. 

“What is this?” you ask. “What are you doing here?”

There’s no animosity in your tone, he thinks. You might be trying to put some in there, but you don’t have the energy to do so, so it just comes out sounding very flat.

Joel realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t have a reason. A real reason that wouldn’t….give him away. He puts his hands on his hips, thinks desperately. You do nothing to help.

When he settles in silence, offers you nothing, you just sigh and shake your head. Your teeth are chattering, lips cracked from the cold, and you seem desperate to get into shelter, twisting your key into your lock and opening the front door. Once you step inside, you flick on the lights. He follows you, closes the door behind you both, and locks it.

“Oh, yeah, come on in, I guess,” you say over your shoulder. 

Joel crosses his arms, standing in your kitchen. 

“What, am I in trouble or something?” you ask. “Because if I am, you’re gonna have to wait until I’ve showered.”

“It can wait,” Joel says, and sits at one of your kitchen chairs. 

You shrug off of your backpack and leave it on a chair, then unbutton your coat, tossing it on top. Joel swallows hard when he sees the damage it’s been hiding. Your scrubs are dirty, tattered in some places, one of the sleeves hanging, partially ripped off. And they’re covered in dried blood. It’s smeared on your arms, on the back of your neck. Not yours, he hopes. 

What the fuck happened to you? You don’t turn to see his reaction, don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s going to ask about it. It’s almost like he’s not even there, and you clearly wish he isn’t. 

He realizes then, that he has the confirmation he’s looking for. You made it out alive. He doesn’t actually need anything else from you. And you’ve given him a perfect out. He can leave while you’re in the shower. 

But he doesn’t. Not when he hears the shower start, or the screech of the curtain across the metal rod, the sound of water hitting the basin. He stays there, motionless, until you duck out of the bathroom with your arms wrapped around yourself, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, hair damp and teeth chattering. 

You pad with bare feet onto the tiled area of the kitchen, brushing past him. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asks. 

You finally look at him, like you’re surprised he spoke up, or even asked the question. A choked, bitter laugh leaves you, and you shift your attention away from him, reaching into your cabinet for a bottle of bourbon. “Pass.”

You pour yourself a whiskey, and Joel watches you throw it back in one go, your nose scrunching up, your hand clasping into a fist as you take the shot. The taste doesn’t stop you from pouring another drink and gulping that one down, too, without as much of a reaction as the first. It’s only when you start pouring the third that he intervenes, standing and crossing the room to cover the glass with his hand before you can grab it. 

“Slow down,” he says.

“I know you’re not telling me what to do in my own home.” Your mouth opens as you look up at him, incredulous. 

Joel looks past you, shakes his head. He supposes your right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch the self-destructive behavior, which is funny considering how often he engages in it himself. He gives in, removes his hand from your glass. “At least…pour me one. You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Your expression softens slightly, and he’s able to see all the pain you’re hiding, just for a flash, before you turn to retrieve a second glass from your cabinet. 

Once you hand him the whiskey, he sits in the middle of the tiny loveseat you’ve got in your front room, expecting you to sit in the armchair across from it. Instead, you approach with your own drink, nudge his knee with your own, and Joel slides over to make room so you can fall onto the couch beside him. Much closer than he’d expected. 

It’s surprisingly good bourbon, and he wonders how many times you’d wasted it by downing it like you just had, instead of taking your time, savoring. He waits for you to get settled before he speaks again.

“What happened to you?” he tries once more, a little softer this time. 

There’s some contemplation on your end, you look at him for a moment, then at your glass, then back up at him again. He can almost see you trying to figure out how much you’re going to share, but he wants to know everything.

“There was an accident at the hospital,” you answer, finally. 

Joel slings his arm over the back of the couch, angles his body towards where you’re curled up, legs tucked underneath you. I’m listening.

Your voice stays even, blase. “A guard at the border broke protocol…and someone who was infected was brought in. By the time we realized, it was too late….”

“Were you hurt?” 

“Almost.” you say. “I mean, yes, actually, I’m a little scratched up, but…it’s not as bad as it could’ve been.”

Your teeth start chattering again. Joel wonders if it’s because of the cold, or your nerves. Figures it’s probably both.

“My coworker turned and I uhm….I had to…” you say into your glass, your free hand flexing like it’s trying to shake off some unpleasant muscle memory. “I had no choice.”

“I understand,” For whatever reason, he spares you from telling the story. To him, taking down Infected was nothing. But to you…“What else?” he presses.

You shrug, avoiding his eyes, one of your arms coming to grip at your opposite shoulder. “I can’t really remember. A bunch of people died. FEDRA came in and just started gunning everything down….” you shook your head, and straightened up.

“I heard about that,” Joel offers.

“Wait…you knew about this?”

“Yeah.”

“So then why are you here, asking m-” the rest of your sentence drops off, your lips parted slightly. The look on your face shifts, slowly. Your eyes narrow. Remorse turns into something more neutral, then into curiosity. “Oh my god….you were worried about me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you fucking were,” your lips curl slightly, it’s not quite a smile, but it’s something close to amusement. 

“No,” Joel defends himself. “I wanted to hear what happened from someone–”

“No you didn’t,” you interject, but he raises his voice to finish his thought.

“–who actually works there, not FEDRA’s propaganda.”

“No you did not. You’re checking up on me. You came over here after curfew to see if I was–”

“Enough,” Joel growls with enough conviction that it shuts you up, and he’s grateful, but its not enough to wipe the self-satisfied look on your face, because it doesn’t.

“What are we, like, friends now?”

He doesn’t answer, and slugs back the rest of his whiskey.

“Or would that be too much for you?” You don’t wait long for him to give you an answer, probably because you know he won’t respond. “I mean, if we’re both being honest–” He definitely wasn’t being honest. “–Today was really fucked up.”

You’re leaning forward now, some of the space between you is gone. And though you’re trying to give the impression that you’re unphased by everything, your hand is clenched tightly around your glass, and you avoid his eyes. It’s painful to watch you resist the urge to trust him. Not that he’s ever given you a good enough reason to – he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it anyways.

“It’s funny…” you say after a while. “I remember thinking that I didn’t want to die. At least… not like that. I’ve never felt that before…That’s something, isn’t it?” you ask him. 

Joel looks at you, and is surprised at the vulnerability in your expression, sees you looking for some kind of validation from him. “....It is.” 

You finish off your drink, and put the empty glass on the coffee table, shift closer to him.

“It looks like you healed up okay,” you say, after a spell. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A little sore, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did you take those antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I can’t even tell you had a black eye.”

“I’m fine,” Joel asserts. 

Another shiver wracks your body, and he can tell this one is actually from the chill – your apartment is cold as fuck, it even is starting to bother him. 

“Don’t you have a heater?”

“Kinda,” you glance over at the radiator in the corner. “Sometimes it works.”

“What do you do when it’s colder than this?” It was only November, things would only get worse. 

You shrug. “I don’t know….just be colder, I guess.”

Joel imagines you curled up in your bed alone, wrapped in a thin comforter, shaking in front of him like you are now. He winces. 

“How long are you going to stay?” you ask, changing the subject.

“I should probably go now.”

You nod, scoot closer. “But maybe…” you trail off, contemplating. 

Joel sits up straighter, prompting you when you don’t speak again. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe you could stick around for a little while longer.” There’s a warm hand, yours, that lands on his thigh, and he recoils like you’ve touched him with a fire iron. He rises to his feet. 

“Hey,” you stand along with him, step in front of him to block the pathway to the door. He could easily get past you, obviously, but it’s not as simple as that. 

Of course he’s fucking thought about what happened the last time he was here – his arms around your waist, his mouth on your neck, your chest, your hands on his shoulders, whining his name. A freak accident, a glitch in the matrix, a statistically improbable thing. 

“What?” he asks as you step forward, the fingers on your free hand sliding into the belt loops of his pants. He feels blood rush to his cheeks, to other places. And you’re still fucking shivering. You look so fucking miserable, he wants to yell at you to put on a coat, to wrap yourself in a blanket, in his arms. 

“Joel,” you say his name softly, tilting your head up, leaning close. And then your hand is on the side of his face, and he realizes you’re fucking pleading with him. He knows what you want, but he has a feeling this isn’t just about sex. You’re looking for comfort, as if he’s capable of giving it. 

“We made a mistake…once,” he tells you. “We’re not going to make it again.”

He says it to hurt you, but it doesn’t work. It’s like you knew it was coming all along. “I knew what I was doing,” you answer, earnest. “Didn’t you?”

Yes. You glance down at his hands, which are squeezed into fists so tightly, his knuckles are white. If he’s not rigid, he’s not sure how he’ll be able to resist. He wants you. God, he wants you. He never thought he’d be able to have you again. 

“I could help you loosen up.”

Joel’s walking on the edge of a one-thousand foot cliff and hoping his foot slips. He wants to surrender. The only thing he thinks might save him is to say the meanest thing he can. Maybe you’d get turned off.

“Listen to yourself,” he says, finding the strength to meet your eyes. “You want me so bad, you sound pathetic.”

“Asshole,” you step closer, your mouth twitches, your lips are inches apart. “Do you think I care what you think about me?”

Joel realizes his plan has backfired. But he really only has himself to blame, he should’ve known better. With you, he’s never in as much control as he wants to be, and deep down, he likes it. 

“Go lie down on the bed.”

It’s the only thing that seems to shock you. “What?” 

“I won’t ask you again,” Joel steps backwards, crosses his arms. “Go lie down.” 

──────

If you told yourself a couple months ago that one day you’d find yourself pinned down by Joel Miller, you’d think it’d be because he was about to kill you. Maybe because you cheated him out of something, maybe because you did something else to piss him off – it didn’t really matter. Regardless of how fucked up it was, that idea would seem more dignified than what was happening now. 

Your back is being pressed deeper into the lumpy old mattress, and he’s on you. His mouth is warm, hot, wet, and dragging down your neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Your hands are itching to reach out, to skate down his torso, trace along his jawline, tug at his hair, but you can’t because he’s got them pinned above you with only one of his own. Anytime you try to fight him, his grip only grows stronger. 

It was shameful, really, but you had asked for this – begged for it, basically. There were a number of reasons why – one of which was to blow off some steam after a near death experience, the other because you’d fucked him before and it had been good, much to your dismay. There was also a third reason that you weren’t interested in acknowledging now. 

After the night Joel had gotten jumped, and you’d taken care of him, everything has changed. It’s a cliche, but true. You’d known what you were doing when it happened, and had no regrets. But it was probably not supposed to happen again, and you tried to keep it that way, more for his sake than anyone else’s. But….he was the one who showed up tonight after he’d heard what had happened. It wasn’t nothing.

Joel pulls away from you so abruptly that you gasp, shivering in the wake of his impossible warmth. 

“Sit up,” he instructs, and you turn to find him at the end of the bed, arms crossed. 

You obey, mostly just for the view. You hope to admire him, fresh from kissing you – flush skin, wet lips, tousled hair. Only he’s frustratingly stoic, unsullied – like he hadn’t been touching you at all. 

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. 

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s nothing,” you agree. 

“I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“Good,” you watch his shoulders loosen, just a little, and he takes one step backwards, his eyes tracing down your body and then back up. “Strip for me….” 

You aren’t dressed sexy at all, you remember, a sweatshirt and sweatpants. If you had thought this through a little more, you might’ve tried to make it nicer for him. “....Okay.”

“Start with your shirt,” he says, and you grab at the hem, but he snaps at you. “Ah-ah….slower.”

You swallow, nod, and carefully lift the fabric, dragging it up over your stomach, over the swell of your breasts, revealing your tight, thin white tank top. 

“That’s it, nice and slow.” 

Joel’s voice is soft but stern, a low rasp that makes your cunt clench around nothing, and he’s not even touching you. The sweatshirt is pulled over your head, falling somewhere on the crumpled bedspread. 

Languidly, you lean back, shifting your weight to get off the mattress, and Joel palms himself through his jeans. You can see where he’s straining against the denim, and you find it hard to tear your gaze away as you go to pull off your sweatpants. Joel stops you again. 

“Turn around.”

You do, and you’re sure he has a nice view of your ass as you slide them over your hips, bending over to let the fleece pool around your ankles. Slowly, you rise back up, looking at him over your shoulder for approval. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs. Your stomach flips. A month ago, you would’ve done anything to get him to stay away from you, and now, you’re terrified to disappoint him. 

That’s the problem. You’d spent most of the day fighting for your life — literally. But even after standing behind a barricade of heavily-armed FEDRA soldiers outside the hospital, you didn’t feel as safe as you did when you saw Joel at your door. You need him. For now, at least.

“Now the shirt,” he tilts his head towards the mattress, nodding encouragingly.

You get back on the bed, sitting back on your heels, and begin to pull the tank top up. It’s your last layer up top, you’re not wearing a bra, and you’re feeling a little vulnerable with him just watching you, fully clothed and composed, your gaze falling down to look at the threadbare linens. 

“Eyes up,” he instructs. “Look at me.”

Taking in a shaky inhale, you do. It’s not easy. Everything about him looks dark, animalistic. A coiled ball of energy, waiting to pounce.

But, even when you’re bare before him, he doesn’t. 

“Lie back, close your eyes.”

Of course, you don’t refuse, settling your head against the pillows. 

There’s a sound of a belt – his belt, unbuckling, the snap of a button, the dip of the bed where he kneels when he comes to hover over you. Two hands land on top of your thighs, pressing the backs against his denim-clad knees, thumbs pushing your legs further apart. 

And then…nothing. He’s still. He’s still for so long, that you actually think that something’s wrong. When you open your eyes, you’re met with a view of the underside of his jaw. You can just make out the pinched expression he’s wearing as he looks down upon you. Disdain, maybe…but it’s not meant for you, it’s for someone else….him.

“Joel,” you murmur. Instinctually, you reach for his hand.

The second it makes contact, he smacks your hand away so hard your whole body jolts. “I told you to close your eyes.”

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing them again. 

You are well aware that he’s actively working through shit, probably doing some kind of mental gymnastics to rationalize why it’s okay to fuck you again, which, when you really think about it is kind of….pathetic. It’s the only thing that makes you feel any sort of power in a situation where you’ll surrender everything else. It’s a fair exchange. 

Maybe, on a different day, you would want it softer. You’d like to think he’s capable of that, even though he seems determined he isn’t. Luckily, you don’t want it softer. After today, you want to be so far gone you can’t think. 

Joel answers by leaning down and catching you in a bruising kiss. Finally. You press yourself against him cause you’re freezing and he’s so warm, and you frantically begin to unbutton the flannel he’s wearing, making it about halfway down before he pins your hands above you again.

“Slow down.”

You whine, a little frustrated because all you want to do is touch him. The fingers on his free hand hook around the elastic of your underwear, and he starts to drag them over the curve of your ass. 

He’s got to be joking with how deliberately he’s moving, anticipation only building underneath his featherlight touches.

When he’s got your panties around your ankles, you slide your legs together so he can pull them off entirely, keeping them closed as his weight shifts, and your thighs are pulled back apart.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he doesn’t need to feel you to see it clear as day, with you spread open in front of him. “So fucking desperate.”

He’s all-but glaring at you, like you’ve done something wrong, and for a minute, your eyes flick away, just for a second of relief from the tension.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he asks. 

“N-no,” you stammer, though it was supposed to sound confident. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t press you, his head dipping down to press his lips to your knee, then an inch higher, then an inch higher, then higher – keeping his eyes locked on yours the whole time, an arm winding around your thigh.

“I wanted to do this last time.” A confession. 

“Yeah?” you sigh, trembling. It’s maybe the nicest thing he’s said to you, but you can’t even acknowledge it, because you’re buzzing.

He turns his face, his beard scraping along sensitive skin. “Mhm,” his deep rasp vibrates directly to your cunt, and when his head dips down, you close your eyes – it might just be better to focus on only one sensation at a time, you’re not sure you can handle seeing what he’s about to do.

Joel’s mouth is on you the second you do, and you gasp. He licks up the seam of your lips, mouth latching around your clit, swirling with his tongue, and back down – firm, determined, practiced. You try to buck up, but he has an arm locked around your hips. 

He removes himself from you just enough to utter two words. “Stay still.”

You want to protest, but you realize that he’s let go of your hands, and it gives you the opportunity to thread your fingers into his hair, while you dig your heels into the broad expanse of his back, and he groans, tongue curling into you. 

“I’ve thought about this,” you gasp, answering his earlier admission.

“When?”

“At night. More than once.”

“Fuck,” Joel growls, and you wheeze when he works one finger into you, forcing you to take it along with his next words. “You know how fuckin’ bad that is? Dreamin’ about a man nearly twice your age?”

“I d-don’t care, I want you anyway. Y-you can do whatever you want to me,” It’s too early to be past the point of speaking coherently, it really is, but you’re already there. 

“F-fuck,” Joel repeats himself, and pushes another finger inside you next to the first, the stretch almost uncomfortable, but quickly fading to pleasure. “I’m going to.”

You’re not the going to tell him, though, that he’s the first man whose ever gone down on you, because you’re a little fucking scared for some reason. It’s intimate, very intimate, more than you expected. 

The truth is, you weren’t actually very experienced at all. You could count on one hand the number of partners you’d had, and still not use all of your fingers. While some of them were good enough, they all paled in comparison to Joel. There had never been anyone like Joel. 

His fingers curl as his tongue swirls around your clit and you cry out, inhale sharply. Minute by minute, you’re getting wetter and wetter – can hear yourself with each twist of his fingers inside you, bearing down on him. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he grunts, and your eyes flutter open just for a second, just to see his forehead, dark eyes staring back at you, and his hips dipping, rutting against the mattress. God he’s getting himself off to this. As hot as it is, the thought of not getting to feel him inside you causes a rush of anger. 

“F-feels so good,” you’re right there, already, and it’s pitiful.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says. “You’re already so close, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, you just nod, gasping. Joel works you right up to the precipice, hands tightening in his hair, hips lifting off the bed – and then he slows a little –  just enough – to pull you back off the edge, and you let out a humiliating sob.

“Shhh!” he hisses with his mouth still on you, resuming the steady pace he had going. A little sigh of relief when you feel your release approaching again. He just lost his rhythm for a moment, it was nothing.

Again, he’s got you right there, you’re so close, hips jerking, breathing in short, sharp pants, something molten working its way up your spine. “Joel, that’s it, please I-”

He falters again – just enough. And it’s gone again.

You realize, with dismay, that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He hadn’t lost his rhythm. He’s doing this on purpose. 

If someone asked – not that anyone would – you wouldn’t be able to recall how long he keeps you in that state, being dragged and dangled, but denied the privilege of falling. It’s torture. 

And at first, you try to be patient. You figure he’ll grow tired, desperate, and eventually want to move on. But apparently, he doesn’t want to move on. He’s content to keep you this way for as long as he sees fit, and you can’t handle it any longer. It’s starting to hurt.

“Please, Joel, let me-” you gasp.

“Let you what?” he pulls back from you, frustratingly too soon, once again.

“Let me come, please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please, please-”

“Just a little longer,” he dismisses you.

All you can do is pant and writhe, completely at his mercy. He keeps going like that, and you’ve stopped trying to filter yourself, the sounds he makes as he laves at you are obscene, you can see yourself glistening on his chin, and can feel the sheets damp beneath you. At this point, he’s enjoying this more than you are.

“Joel,” you plead with him again. “It’s too much, I c-can’t. Just, please I really need-”

“You wanna come for me, baby?” he asks. You nod ferociously. 

“Yes, please, please,” 

“You’re so fucking sweet when you beg, you know that? ” he murmurs. “Wish you were like this all the time.”

“Fuck off,” you manage, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You should do this to me more often. 

Joel chuckles, and it vibrates just right, his fingers curling again and you moan, hands tightening in his hair. He’s focused now, you can tell because the constant stream of filth he’s been whispering has finally stopped. He’s persistent.

You’re unable to stay quiet, continuing to whimper just like that and please don’t stop over and over. And then all at once, every muscle in your body grows tense and you cry out, cunt pulsing around him so tightly that his fingers slow. “There you go, pretty girl, that’s it.” 

You whisper his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into you, riding you through your orgasm and licking up the mess you’ve made. 

At some point in the aftermath, Joel withdraws from you, and you hear the sting of his zipper. It takes a moment, but you’re able to see him through heavily lidded eyes, kneeling in front of you with his shirt unbuttoned all the way, pants around his ankles, jerking himself slowly in his hand. God he’s fucking huge, how had you forgotten about that? He’s a vision, beard still wet with you, looking down, watching your chest rise and fall. In that moment you realize two things. One, even though you’ve already come, you somehow want him even more than you had before, and two, you’ve never wanted to suck a dick so bad in your life. 

So you sit up, crawl towards him, and reach out with one hand to take him in your palm. He lets you, sighing, closing down his eyes. First, you have to kiss him, so you rise to your knees, and he pulls you into his arms, one of them winding around your waist, the other coming to rest at the small of your back. “You take such good care of me,” you whisper. 

He grimaces at the words like they’re an insult. You expect him to retaliate, to tell you that you shouldn’t say that sort of thing, but he never does. So you kiss him, gently, bringing your free hand to the side of his face. Once again, he lets you, and you taste yourself when his tongue presses into you mouth. You run your thumb over the head of his cock, and he hums against your touch, almost contentedly.

You’re doing whatever you want to him, and you’re shocked he hasn’t put a stop to it. It could be satisfying enough, you think, just to keep kissing him like this. Still, you sink back towards the bed to test things further. You’re about to wrap your mouth around him, but he pulls you off by your hair, so quickly, so hard that you yelp.

“No.” he says firmly. “Lie back.”

“But I just wanted to-”  

“No.” 

You consider trying to reason with him, but decide it won’t be worth whatever he’d do if you continue to argue.

Joel braces himself with one hand above your shoulder, the other wrapped around his cock, slowly teasing you by rubbing himself up and down a few times, before he gives in, finally pushing into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp at the stretch, reaching out grasp at his bicep, arching your back. He’d prepped you, and it was still too much. 

“You can take it,” he says, pressing deeper into you. His hips are all the way flush with yours, he’s to the hilt, and he still snaps them even further, once, holding you there, so deep, you feel like you’re choking on him. “See? There you go.”

It seems like you can’t quite catch your breath, and you squirm underneath him for some kind of friction, some kind of relief from how intense it all is. You can feel him throbbing inside you, feel how badly his own body is begging him to move, but he doesn’t. 

“Joel,” you cradle the back of his head, look him in the eyes. “Move, please.”

He doesn’t answer, he just brings his hand to grip your jaw, his thumb and forefinger pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. 

“Please?” you murmur again, and his thumb slips into your mouth, silencing you. You suck on it obediently, and after you do, he finally gives you what you want.

──────

Joel told you he wouldn’t be gentle, and he isn’t. 

He hadn’t been able to do this last time. Taste you, spread you open, fuck you properly. His hips snap against yours – ferociously, unrelenting, over and over. You’ve been going at it for awhile now, and he actually wants you to break. He wants you to tell him to slow down, to be a little more tender, not press into you so deep, so hard, so that if he listens, it wouldn’t mean he’s breaking his own promise. He’s got to be rough with you, because he’s afraid of what could happen if he’s not.

But you don’t break. You fucking take it, take him, each time, again and again, your nails digging into arms, your legs locked around his hips. Each time he delves into you, you’re getting wetter and wetter, and yet, you’re still so fucking tight. He doesn’t understand it. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s been with a woman like you – and you might be the best he’s ever had. 

You’re not even making any noise – you’re just panting, gasping in Joel’s ear as you cling to him, and that’s all. He can’t even look you in the eyes. If he does, he knows you’ll see everything that’s wrong with him, and still beg for him to give you more. 

Two hands land on either side of his face, turning his head so you can kiss him. Despite how he’s treating you, you keep trying to connect, to ground yourself. For as much as he wants to refuse, it feels too cruel to deny you. He lets you lock your lips with his own, feels your cunt clutch him even tighter. It’s impossible for you to kiss for more than a few seconds at a time without it getting broken up by a whimper here and there. You’re getting close again, he’s started to get better at recognizing it.

“You’re fucking so perfect on me, baby, you feel that?” he asks, and you nod, breathless. “Taking me so well, such a good fucking girl-”

A gasp from you cuts him off, your eyes squeezing shut as you are taken over by your climax. Joel groans and does everything he can not to come when you start pulsing around him, holding him closer, since there’s nothing else to do. It’s way too intimate…because it’s missionary, and he should’ve known better than to start off like this. 

Pulling out of you is the hardest thing he’s had to do in a while, and he ignores your noises of protest now that he’s left you empty. Then, he flips you onto your stomach. He takes a moment to admire the curve of your ass, how it dips into your waist….to him, your body is perfect, and you’re young, your skin still supple and smooth. There are still places he hasn’t gotten his mouth on, and it’s a shame, he thinks, but tonight his patience is wearing thin. Joel pulls you back until you’re on your knees, and slides back inside. There’s a little resistance, you whimper, but it’s easier than the first time. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other across your chest, and starts to jerk his hips upwards, into you. 

“Oh fuck, Joel,” you sigh in relief.

“I know, I know.”

You drop your head back until it falls against his shoulder, winding your arm back so you can pull at his hair, which kind of fucking hurts, but he likes it. 

Ultimately, you’re pretty easy to please, and it’s not long before he feels the telltale flutter of your walls as you drip down over him, soaking his lap. 

“You’re making a fucking mess, baby. You gonna come for me again?”

All you can do is plead with him. “I can’t, Joel. I can’t do it again, please just-”

“Yes, you can,” he interjects. “I know you can, baby, don’t worry…I’ll help you.”

“O-okay.’ 

He slows the roll of his hips just a little, focuses on deeper, longer strokes, and lets the hand that’s currently squeezing one of your tits fall to where your bodies are joined, finding your clit immediately.

You whine, arching back against him, the swell of your ass packed against his lower stomach. He sees a single tear leaking from the corner of your eye and feels a little guilty for what he’s doing to you. Only a little, though. 

Without any warning, for the third time, you’re coming around him – easier than the last time, like always – and he uses the feeling of you throbbing around him to chase his own release, his hand clapping over your mouth to muffle your moans as he becomes increasingly frantic. 

He turns his head, rakes his teeth along your exposed neck, and sinks them into your pulse point with a groan. Your breath is hot against him when you whimper in response. 

“Just a little more, honey.” He’s so close. You bob your head, though you’ve nearly gone limp in his arms.

Like last time, Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he’s not going to pull out. The thought of deliberately coming inside you is actually what sends him over the edge, and he’s cursing and moaning your name. You whine at the feeling of him pulsing inside of you, arching back for more, even though he can tell you’re exhausted. 

It’s fucking freezing in your apartment, and yet, his skin is damp with sweat when he finally regains some awareness of his surroundings. He’s panting, you’re sniffling, a weak smile on your face as you catch your breath. Before he can stop himself, he presses his lips to your cheek. 

Joel tilts you both forward – very tentatively, keeping an arm wrapped around your waist. At some point, your hand settled over top of his, and you threaded your fingers between his own, holding his hand across your stomach. You keep it there, even after you’ve settled onto the bed.  

It takes a few minutes before either of you move, but it’s you who gives in first, wriggling out from where he’s got you trapped partially underneath him. 

You retreat to the bathroom, like you did last time. Somewhere during your coupling the linens have slid down the bed, and Joel settles back against the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head.  Now that he’s stopped sweating, he’s just cold, and he reaches to pull the bedspread over him. He should leave, he thinks, before you come out and ask him to. Beat you to the punch. Maybe while you’re still in the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, and you return from the bathroom, dressed again in sweats. He hears you pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. You flick off the lamp on your bedside table, and fall into bed next to him, lying rigidly on your back. He should reach out, pull you against him, let you settle in his arms. Instead, Joel rolls over on his side. 

It’s terrible how beautiful you are, he thinks, watching you stare up at the ceiling, hugging yourself. So beautiful, and fucking smart. You’re strong, too, but not as strong as he wishes you were. Of course, no one could ever be that strong.

He whispers your name. You turn your head, pupils still blown wide with lingering lust.

“You need to learn to defend yourself, to shoot a gun, to fight,” he says. “After today.”

“What?” you roll to face him. 

“You said you didn’t want to die,” Joel continues. “So you need to learn. ‘Case something like that happens again.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme guess, you’re gonna teach me?” your voice is a little hoarse after what he’d done to you, and you smirk at him.

“Yes.” It sobers you up, that he’s not fucking with you, or giving you a hard time. “I owe you, remember?” 

“You do.” 

“So…. I’ll teach you.” 

“....Okay.” 

“Alright.”

Joel rolls over to his opposite side, and you’re left staring at his back. Arms wrapped around 

himself in a tight hug, he waits for you to tell him to go.

You never do. 

Instead, he feels the heat of your body as you curl up against him, slotting one of your legs between his own. Your hand grazes up his ribs, over his bicep – a gentle, quick massage – before you tuck your arm underneath his own, your palm flat against his heart. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, frozen at how tender the embrace is. It’s a foreign feeling, he can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this. 

The tip of your nose hits the nape of his neck, and he can feel your shuddery exhale.

“I’m cold,” you say, like it’s obvious, lips brushing featherlight against his skin. “And if you’re staying, you might as well make yourself useful.”

He can’t roll over and wrap his arms around you. He can’t kiss your forehead or play with your hair or murmur into your ear. He can’t offer you anything in return. Joel decides, though, if he’s going to accept comfort from anyone, it’s going to be from you.

──────

taglist (basically if you asked for a pt 2 on the last part i tagged you): @bbyanarchist @dlwrish @imaginewrites24 @captain-yellow-96 @daisyintheskyewithdiamonds @sludgec0r33 @c0wb0ym3nace

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