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stillmonsterz · 2 months

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when you split the heart open

pairing: heeseung x reader, jake x reader (kind of)

genre: smut, angst (?)

summary: heeseung is dating the girl of his dreams. the only problem? he has to have sex with her.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, name-calling, manipulation, exhibitionism, dubcon, public sex, humiliation (?), heeseung is a cuck

word count: 5.1k

---

Heeseung had a girlfriend, and she was amazing. She was pretty, smart, funny, and her body was out of this world. She had a particular vibrancy and joie de vivre that made spending time with her invigorating. She was the opposite of a dead fish in the bedroom- she was vocal, enthusiastic, and loved to please him.

He disliked having sex with her.

Sometimes he almost pitied her; she would seduce him in any way she could, winding her hips seductively, crawling towards him on the bed wearing nothing but thigh-high socks, rubbing his crotch under the table when they ate out, anything to catch his attention. Of course, he didn’t pass up a good fuck – he wasn’t insane – but it did nothing for him but provide a quick release.

It wasn’t like he didn’t love her, he did. He was convinced that someday, he could even marry her. It’s just that he found that he loved her best when she was farther away from him, someone he could admire rather than keep. Heeseung found her beautiful at 11 pm, when she would dance alone in her bedroom wearing a baggy T-shirt. Or when she would shove her face into her pillow and thrust the end of a hairbrush into her pussy. It was an amazing night when he had caught that- he had been parked outside of her apartment complex, so he got a side-view, and the camera he had set up in her closet gave him a perfect shot of her smooth legs and raised ass. The day after that, when they had had sex in his van, the memory of her chasing her orgasm got him to finish.

Heeseung was a voyeur, and he was starting to think that it was becoming a problem. And it wasn’t even a problem he could complain about; in a moment of weakness, he had told his best friend Jay that he didn’t like how frequently his girlfriend wanted sex, and Jay had heavily implied that Heeseung was gay.

He was getting really sick and tired of having to fuck his girlfriend all the time. Heeseung had suggested mutual masturbation, which backfired. It ended up being too intimate for him and it just got her hot. She had pounced on him and ridden him as if her life depended on it.

At times, he missed how things were before they started dating. He had met her at her job, and had never revisited. Instead, he had waited for her shift to finish, followed her home, and tugged himself dry while he watched her undress in her room. The curtains were too sheer, and sometimes she wouldn’t even draw them. It made him think she wanted him to see her, and the thought of that always made him harder.

She had approached him at the local grocery store, as he was buying ramen noodles. She had said that she had wanted to see him again, Heeseung had made up some excuse, and through a series of events that Heeseung hadn’t lived through so much as passively observed, they had ended up dating.

It had been eight months of dating, cuddling, and sex, and he felt exhausted. He wanted things to go back to normal, but he also loved spending time with her. So he started making up excuses to not sleep with her. Headaches, shifts at work, weird erections from his medication.

One day, a few days after their eight month anniversary where Heeseung had reluctantly eaten her out, she confronted him. They were sitting on his couch, playing Mario Kart, when she turned to him.

“Do you still like me?” she asked, voice shaky.

Heeseung shut the TV off immediately. “Huh? Of course I like you- baby, I love you.” He rested his hands on hers as they clutched the controller.

“Then why don’t you like sleeping with me?”

“No, no, I…” Heeseung hesitated. This was the perfect time to come clean. They could work things out, maybe. It would be good to get it off his chest. “Okay. Okay, I’ve been having a…problem. It has nothing to do with you, I promise.”

Her eyes were wide and glassy. She was wearing his large hoodie and a pair of dolphin shorts. She looked perfect. “A problem?”

“Yes, a problem. I…I…look. I like you. I love you. You’re my girl.” Heeseung reached out and stroked her cheek gently. “The problem is that you’re just…like an angel to me. It feels wrong when I…when I fuck you.”

“What?” It came out as a squeak, and she recoiled from his touch. “Feels wrong?”

“No, no, not that you’re wrong, it’s me, it’s that…” Heeseung sighed. “I like to look at you I like seeing you move, it’s like art come to life. It feels like when I touch you, I’m sullying something beautiful, something that needs to be kept clean.” Heeseung thought that if he made it sound more romantic and less like a paraphilia, she would be more inclined to hear him out. And to his glee, she slowly leaned into his touch again, her cheek rubbing against his hand.

“You find me beautiful?”

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met,” he said, staring her in her luminous eyes. “Too gorgeous for me.”

“You aren’t,” she said imploringly, holding his wrist with her two hands. “Heeseung, I love you. And I really like having sex with you. Why did you sleep with me all those times if you didn’t enjoy it?”

“I did enjoy it, I did. I just…I wanted to make you happy, baby.” Heeseung kissed her forehead. “Your happiness matters the most to me. I’d do anything for you.”

“And I’d do anything for you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips. He kissed her vack, cupping her face in his hands.

“Anything for me?”

“Anything, Heeseung.”

“I have an idea.”

He clambered into his room and pulled out his hairbrush. “Just…just use this to get off, okay?” He handed it to her, and she accepted it slowly, turning it over like it was a foreign object.

His girlfriend looked up at him. “Right now?”

Heeseung shook his head. “Not yet. Hold on.” He ran to his room again and found an old handheld camcorder.

She squinted at it. “You’re going to film me?”

“No, it’s dead,” he lied. “See?” He showed her the black screen. “I’m just going to use this to mimic the feeling of….uh, awayness. Like an extra screen between you and I.”

She fiddled with the hairbrush, feeling its smooth wooden end with her thumb. “Well…I mean, I’m not really in the mood right now….”

“You’re always in the mood,” he replied, frustration slowly building in him. “I swear you’re like a dog in heat sometimes.”

His girlfriend’s eyes widened again. “What?”

“You’re always asking to get fucked. You’re like a nymphomaniac, I swear. I bet you go home and hump your pillows right after I turn you out because you just can’t get enough.” Heeseung had seen exactly that from one of his midnight excursions to her place.

“I’m not a nympho-,”

“Oh, yes you are. Whores like to get fucked less than you do. I can only imagine how much you got around before I cuffed you.” He saw her shove one hand down her dolphin shorts. He raised the camera with a smile.

“I’m a whore?” Her face was flushed, and her eyes were squeezed shut.

“You’re a whore who gets off to being called a whore. Good fucking thing you’re with me, or else you would have been taken advantage of already, especially with that slutty body of yours.”

To his growing delight, she had tugged her shorts off and slipped her dainty little panties off. The end of his hairbrush slipped deftly in and out of her glistening folds.

Heeseung stopped talking, as so not too ruin the footage with his voice. He just watched her circle her clit with her manicured fingers, watched her pussy swallow the hairbrush.

“Heeseung,” she moaned, and he scowled, cutting the video short.

“Don’t say my name,” he said. “And keep your eyes shut.” When her eyes fluttered shut, he turned the camera on. He stroked himself in time with the insertion of the hairbrush. Seeing her splayed out on his couch, her head tossed back, his hoodie riding up to expose her soft tummy…it was amazing. And the fact that she didn’t know he was filming her made it all the better. It was forbidden, it was wrong, it was perfect. When she came, she nearly said his name again, but she cut herself off instead. He didn’t let himself cum, but he moaned and pretended like he did too.

Heeseung kissed his girlfriend, licked the sweat off of her face. “Perfect,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The second she left his house, he sniffed the couch, the exact place where she had sat as they had played video games. Her scent was so strong; he buried his face into the faux leather and inhaled deeply. Heeseung closed his eyes, imagined her masturbating herself all alone in room, and finished all over the couch.

He was going to have so much fun.

The platonic aspects of their relationship stayed the same. They would have simple at-home dates, occasionally going out to restaurants or the movies or anywhere she liked. Heeseung didn’t really care what they did as a couple. He just liked to be around her.

They still had sex, but it had gone from several times a week to once every two weeks. It was still a dreaded task for Heeseung, but it balanced out now that they had incorporated his voyeuristic tendencies into their relationship.

On movie dates, he made sure to get tickets in a theatre with a sparse audience. Then, he would leave his seat, sitting a few rows back, and watch his girlfriend play with herself, fondling her tits and slipping a hand into her jeans. If they went to the beach, Heeseung would take her to a secluded spot, tell her to lie down on a towel, and to strip. She would sunbathe completely nude, rubbing lotion all over herself.

When she would go out with her friends, Heeseung would periodically text her, asking her to unbutton a few of her buttons, or to send him a picture of her panties. He asked her to fuck herself in public bathrooms and to send videos for proof. He would lazily stroke his cock to the grainy footage of her sliding her fingers in and out of her tight pussy. When she told him that men were hitting on her, he would text, “Good job.” Then he would tell her to unbutton another few buttons, or to part her legs as she rode the subway. What he would really like would be for her to walk around dressed in a tiny little crop top that showed the underside of her breasts and shorts that displayed her bare ass, but Heeseung knew he was already asking for a lot.

A few times, he had strapped her to his bed with rope, so that her arms and legs were bound. He had affixed a phone-controlled vibrator between her thighs, and he watched her writhe on his bed with glee. Heeseung watched her have orgasm after orgasm, and if she begged him to stop he would get angry. He would complain that she had ruined it. He would pry her mouth open with his fingers, and she would suck him off to completion. Then he would start the process over again, until her face was flushed, her legs would shake, and he could even glimpse her pussy clenching around nothing. It was fun for him, but eventually he grew tired of watching it. He had tried making it more interesting by binding her fingers in front of her hole so she could tremblingly fuck herself, but the rush of that wore off too. Heeseung needed something more, something that could sate his urges.

So he had asked for something else.

---

“You want me to do what?” They were at a café, and she put down the croissant she had been nibbling.

Heeseung raised his hands. “You don’t have to do it. It was just a suggestion.”

“Heeseung, I know you’re struggling, but…nude karaoke?”

He sighed and looked away from her. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s getting hard, you know. I love you, and I feel like I’m not good enough for you. It’s really messing with me, up here…” Heeseung tapped the side of his head. “I feel like a freak.”

Her face softened, and she reached out to hold his hand. “You’re not a freak, my love. You’re just…”

“A perv who wants his girlfriend to get nude in front of strangers.” Heeseung laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m really normal.”

“You’re not a perv, either.” She swallowed. “I mean…this could actually be good for me. It could help me explore my sexuality more.” She squeezed his hand and mustered up a smile. “I think we should try it?”

Heeseung didn’t allow himself to smile. “Yeah? I mean, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I want to do this.”

He leaned across the table and kissed her all over her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the nicest girl ever.”

That night was nude karaoke night at a local var. When they arrived, there were only a five dozen or so attendees, mainly men. They were sitting around a makeshift stage in wooden chairs that had been dragged from the surrounding tables. A woman was there, warbling a song as she swayed her hips. The men seemed bored, and Heeseung started to feel prideful. His girl, who was wearing a loose white dress and had folded her arms tightly around her chest, was so much prettier than that other woman. These men were going to shit themselves when she started to sing.

The woman finished her song, and the applause was scattered. Then his girlfriend slowly walked onto the stage, her heels clacking against the floor. Her hands were scrunched into fists. As she adjusted the mic, one man yelled, “Take your tits out, now!”

Another said, “Don’t look so shy, sweetheart.”

Heeseung was elated.

She introduced the song she was going to sing – Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. Heeseung had heard her sing that one; her voice had always sounded so melancholic, fragile, and sweet. He smiled at her encouragingly.

The intro to the song played, and she pulled her dress off, revealing her stunning body. The men whooped and cheered, hurling vulgarities at her. She tried to sing, clutching the microphone tightly, but the jeering was loud. As Heeseung scanned the small space, he saw that the men around him were either stroking their bulges covertly or outright jerking themselves off.

His girlfriend kept singing with her eyes closed. Heeseung wanted her to open them, so she could see the effect he was having on all of those men. They were all drooling after her, calling her a slut, saying that she must be tight, that they would fuck up whoever got to tap that pussy. Heeseung jerked himself off right there, joining in the orgiastic atmosphere of the cramped little bar. He watched her sing, his heart full.

When she finished, the patrons begged her to keep singing. They tossed money at her, wadded bills. She glanced at Heeseung, who nodded, and so she continued to sing, this time quietly crooning In The Mood For Love.

A man told her to play with her tits while she sang, and she did, running her thumb along her nipples. It was more than Heeseung could handle, and he came halfway through the song.

After her second performance, she hurried off of the stage, collecting some of the money before pulling her dress on. She ran out, which was smart, because the men were starting to clamor for her to do worse acts. Heeseung followed after her, and before he opened his car, he kissed her in the parking lot.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, kissing her again. “So amazing. Your voice is beautiful.”

She scoffed. “My voice?”

Heeseung shrugged playfully. “And, you know, your body. You looked sexy up there. Everyone thought so.”

His girlfriend rested her hands against his chest. “Did you think so?”

“Of course I did,” he said in a placating tone, stroking her hair. “Of course, baby.”

“You’re the only person I care about,” she said quietly.

“Me too.”

She hesitated. “Did you…like what I did? How did that make you feel, me going up there, naked, and…”

Heeseung tilted her chin up with his finger. “I loved it. I fucking loved it. I came in mere minutes. You’re amazing, baby.”

She reached out to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Heeseung held her like she would slip away from him.

After that, she became different. Without even asking, she had started to wear tighter, shorter clothes. She used to go out in dresses, worn jeans, or she’d just wear his hoodies. Now, she wore bodycon dresses, miniskirts that practically gave you peeks of her ass, and she had cut her shirts up so that they displayed her midriff. It was amazing.

He liked to parade her around the mall now. The sight of men and women alike ogling his girlfriend made his cock so hard, he would walk with a limp. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he would take her into the family bathroom, or slip into a change room and fuck her in there. Public sex was marginally better than regular sex with her, because he liked to imagine that men were fantasizing about her. He would close his eyes and imagine her naked, standing like a mannequin in a store, and all of the men who had lasciviously eyed her in the mall being forced to see her but unable to touch. It was a glorious time.

The novelty wore off after a few months, and he lost interest in having sex with her again. She could tell, and he knew that she was getting nervous. She performed at nude karaoke again, but even that did nothing for him.

He knew what he wanted from her.

On their first anniversary as a couple, Heeseung had taken her to brunch at a restaurant she had been eyeing. She wore this little black crop top with a tiny skirt, and her makeup was perfect.

Towards the end of their meal, Heeseung dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Baby,” he began, staring her in the eyes, “you are my better half. I can’t believe I’ve been able to spend a full year with you. You’re so kind, so sweet, so understanding, and so gorgeous.” He reached out and kissed her hand, and she giggled. “You’re the light of my life. You’re my reason to go on, and you deserve the moon. Unfortunately, all I can offer you is this.” Heeseung pulled a small black box out of his jacket pocket.

With a smile so bright Heeseung swore it could cause flowers to bloom, she opened the box. She gasped when she saw the charm bracelet he had bought her. “Oh, Heeseung,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is so expensive.”

“You deserve it,” he said softly, taking the bracelet and slipping it onto her wrist. “You deserve the world, baby.”

“I have it right here,” she replied.

They shared a kiss, then Heeseung leaned into her ear. “I was thinking…we could make this anniversary even more special.”

Her lips curled into a mischievous little smile. “How?”

“You said you’d do anything for me, right?”

She pulled away from him slightly, her lips setting into a thin line.

“Right?” he asked firmly, taking hold of her hand.

“Of course,” she said frantically, “anything for you, my love.”

---

The motel that Heeseung had driven them to was shoddy and sleazy. There were people outside smoking on lawn chairs, and dilapidated cars filled the parking lot. The neon sign affixed to the window flashed its name: Ethan’s Motel. Heeseung ushered his girlfriend inside, and he took note of the people populating the motel. Tweakers, men in sweaty wife-beaters.

He wondered which one would give his girlfriend the best fuck.

In the end, he told her to find someone while he set up the rooms. She asked how, and he told her to just be upfront with them. Heeseung had bought two rooms, which stunk of dust and reeked of bodily fluids. He hid a small camera in a flower pot- his girlfriend didn’t know about that – and shoved a nail through the wall to make a small hole, just to cover his ass.

Then he went to the other room to set up his laptop, which showed the feed from the camera. He set that on the small desk directly in front of his bed.

Within ten minutes, his girlfriend was leading a man into the motel room. He looked around their age and had a shaggy mop of hair. He was shorter than Heeseung, so Heeseung figured that his dick was probably smaller, too. But his girlfriend wouldn’t mind that, he was sure- who knows how much random dick she’d bounced on before they dated? Anyways, her hookup looked nice enough, but then again, he was hanging around a place like this.

“What did you say your name was?” she asked, still holding his hand. She sat down on the bed, and the guy followed.

“Jake,” he said. “And yours?”

She told him her name, and he nodded.

“Well, you’re…you’re hot as hell,” Jake said, laughing awkwardly. He scratched the back of his neck. Heeseung was getting really pissed off, but he told himself to be patient.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said lowly, tracing a finger down Jake’s chest. Heeseung shivered. “I think you know how to please a woman, right?”

Jake smirked and slowly pushed Heeseung’s girlfriend down until he was hovering above her. “Come find out.”

Heeseung watched Jake make out with his girlfriend. He watched his girlfriend lie, refusing to even touch Jake. It made him frown. She was supposed to be enjoying this. He wanted to see her in the throes of ecstasy, wanted to see her in all of her hedonistic glory.

Finally, she kissed Jake back, and he started taking his clothes off. He seemed as frantic as Heeseung was. She undressed, casting her clothes aside, and Jake was on top of her again.

Jake shifted around so that her ass was above his face as she lied on top of him. He started to lick her pussy, firmly gripping her ass with both of her hands. She started to suck him off, only licking the tip at first before throating Jake’s cock.

Heeseung whimpered, unzipping his jeans and only allowing himself minimal pressure as he palmed himself over his boxers. If he didn’t pace himself, he was going to cum before the fun truly began.

Jake continued to eat Heeseung’s girlfriend out, and Heeseung could hear his moans through the door. His girlfriend was being incredibly quiet, however, which was annoying. She pulled herself off of Jake and sat at the head of the bed. She spread her legs and looked up at Jake with empty eyes. Jake crawled towards her, and from that angle Heeseung could only see his hips moving rapidly and his girlfriend’s legs quivering. Her hands feebly wrapped around Jake and hugged him tightly as she pounded her.

Then Jake laid flat on his back and she got on top of him. The way she arched her back, practically dancing on Jake’s dick, made Heeseung moan. She gripped Jake’s shoulders and took him to the hilt, her eyes closed. Jake was holding her hips and whispering, “Fuck, fuck that’s nice, fuck.” It was annoying that this shmuck didn’t have anything better to say, but Heeseung didn’t really care. He was forcing himself to stroke himself at a snail’s pace, when all he wanted to do was rub his dick raw.

His girlfriend got off of Jake’s cock and went on all fours, so that she was facing the TV of the motel room. In other words, she was facing Heeseung’s camera. It felt like magic, like she knew or something. He couldn’t take it anymore, and Heeseung spit in his hand and started stroking himself directly. Jake kneeled behind Heeseung’s girlfriend and started ramming into her, one hand slapping her ass and the other pulling her hair back.

Heeseung took in the details of her body; the shuddering of her torso, the trembling of her arms as she steadied herself on the bed, the way that her ass pressed against Jake’s groin as he pounded into her, the way her breasts freely shook, the conflicted expression on her perfect little face, the sheen of sweat covering her from her head to her toes. Heeseung had always known that she was beautiful, but now he swore that she was an angel.

Jake panted, “I’m close, fuck, fuck!” so Heeseung rubbed his cock even faster, his other hand squeezing his balls. It was an Olympic feat to suppress his growing orgasm, but he didn’t want to mess this up. Not when his girlfriend was whimpering so prettily, when she was so consumed by her own pleasure, guilt, and embarrassment that she had probably forgotten all about the camera filming it all. Heeseung thought he might die.

With a guttural moan, Jake came in her, weakly thrusting a few more times to drain the last of his cum. Then he let her drop onto the bed, and she collapsed like a rag doll. Heeseung came as well, biting his lip harshly so he wouldn’t moan. He milked his cock with a white-hot fervor, riding out his high for as long as he could. When the aftershock hit him, all he could do was take quick gasps of air. Heeseung licked his lips and tasted blood.

Jake stroked his girlfriend’s hair, kissed her forehead, then whispered something in her ear. The sight of her limp and pliant, barely lifting her head to talk to Jake, was so arousing that Heeseung wished he had it in him to jack off again. This footage would last him for months.

As Heeseung closes his eyes to relive the memory, Jake put his clothes on. He dug around in his jacket, pulled out a few bills, and left them on her back. He left, closing the door with a soft click. Heeseung’s girlfriend remained where she was, as stiff as a corpse. Heeseung didn’t leave his motel room right away, the images in his head too vivid, too lush.

Heeseung walked inside of the motel room, and the smell of sex was intoxicating. “Baby, that was amazing- you, you were amazing.” His grin is stretched maniacally wide, and his steps towards the hidden camera were buoyant. “I came so hard, baby. It was perfect, just perfect.” He removed the camera from the potted plant and tucked it carefully into its bag.

She hadn’t said a word, just resting on her stomach. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shaky. Poor thing, Heeseung thought, she hadn’t had a fucking like that since we got together. Poor little angel. He walked over to her and lay next to her on the bed. He kissed her over and over, holding her slick cheeks in her hands. “You’re so perfect,” Heeseung whispered. “Thank you so much, thank you, thank you. You’re amazing, thank you, thank you.”

She opened her eyes, and her apprehensive gaze made Heeseung’s cock stir. “I feel dirty,” she said, voice choked with emotion.

“No, baby,” he said, kissing her nose again. He gently crawls on top of her, circling his arms around her waist. “You’re not dirty. You’re good, so good. You’re the best. There’s nothing wrong with…with exploring. Didn’t it feel good? Didn’t you enjoy it?” His girlfriend hesitated, so he firmly said, “You enjoyed it. Right? I could tell you did.”

She nodded, bucking her head against his chin affectionately. “I did.”

“You did,” Heeseung breathed out. “I knew you would, my sweet girl.” His hand trailed down to his pants zipper, and he pulled his cock out. He gave it a few strokes, but the sight of another man’s cum coating her thighs was all the motivation he needed. “You’re the best,” he cooed, slipping inside of his girlfriend. It was so easy because she had been fucked open by Jake, and she took him so well. The only sound she made when he entered her was a soft little sigh.

Heeseung closed his eyes and thought of her face again, the contortion of her features into that portrait of debauchery. His arms remained tight around her in a stiff embrace, his cheek resting on her head. He thought about how amazing it would be to see another man fuck her again. Maybe two, three, a train of strangers having their turns with his girlfriend, his beautiful, kind girlfriend. Heeseung couldn’t have pulled out of her if he had tried as the fantasies overtake him. He finished inside of her, hot jizz clamoring out of him in spurts, and wiped his tip on one of the bills Jake left on her back. The room felt like it was spinning, and every nerve ending in his body felt alight with fire. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, “I love you so much.”

Heeseung pushes the money off of her back and carries his girlfriend into the small bathroom. He placed her inside of the cracked bathtub and filled it with warm water. He left her there to get her toiletry bag, and when he came back she was staring at the ceiling. As he scrubbed her body, he pressed kisses to her skin. He washed her like a piece of alabaster pottery, washing her thoroughly. When he dried her off, he noticed that she hadn’t said a single word. “Baby?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Heeseung.”

He carried her to bed and dressed her in her grey robe. He stripped to his boxers and kissed her cheeks before he pulled the covers over them both. He pulled her head onto his chest and stroked her soft, downy hair.

He had never felt so in love.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut

657 notes · View notes

tacticaldiary · 8 months

Note

can you do a ghost x head doctor!reader? kind of that scenario where ghost is like, “i don’t want a regular plain nurse; i want reader 🙄” and reader is like, the head doctor of the medical wing or whatever, and doesn’t usually deal with regular military injuries, but puts up with ghost’s shit anyways? 😋

Superficial Wounds, Deep Devotion

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Fluff; Hurt/Comfort

"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with the gauze.

"All you need is to stop scaring away the field medics." She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant.

Masterlist

"Ghost?" Her head snaps up from the clipboard. "What's wrong with him?" She frowns, pushing down the bubbling panic in her chest.

"He's asking for you to treat him in room Q42."

"Is he bleeding?" The urgency itches just below her skin but her cool professionalism doesn't crack. She doesn't deal with superficial injuries, only the most complex cases. She's seen it all. Mangled faces, guts hanging out, disfigured bodies.

So the fact that they were asking for her-...

Wait.

"Is command asking me to see him?" She says slowly.

The soldier shakes his head. "No ma'am. It was a request from the Lieutenant himself."

She releases a slow exhale, relief tingling. "I'll see to it." She dismisses him with a wave, starting down the hall.

Simon had this...habit of seeking her out. It was a perk of his rank, she supposes, but she'd been the only one to treat him ever since they'd encountered each other way back when she was an on-site combat nurse.

It's impossible to forget seeing him for the first time. That skull mask of his was splattered blood red, a bullet wound in his shoulder as he sat on one of the dusty cots in the emergency tents they'd set up in the middle of the desert.

They'd just clicked.

She ended up treating him again after that, and that's when he started personally requesting her.

It hadn't taken long for the spark between them to explode into something intense and loving. He was the anchor to her stressful life, unshakable and a steady presence. She was his person, one of the only people he trusted with his injuries and his heart, the warmth that let him focus on being better.

Swinging open the door without knocking, the man in question sits there in all his glory in front of her.

Admittedly, the first she stares at is his chest. He's shirtless, a cut that she can tell is superficial and non-fatal from all the way by the door.

"You can come inside." His voice is amused and knowing, the bastard.

"Inviting me into my own house?" She swallows, but listens. The door is kicked shut behind her. The moment it's closed he tugs off his mask, the weary lines of his face much more prominent under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. "How was your op?" Stopping by the cot he's sitting on to press a quick kiss to his sweaty head, she breezes past him to the medical trolley nearby.

"Fine. Did what we had to." They both know he won't volunteer any more information. Just as she doesn't confide in him with every horrific injury she deals with, he doesn't expose her to the horrific things he has to do. A mutual withholding of information for the peace of mind of both parties.

"Thought you weren't due to come home until tomorrow. I was gonna meet you on the tarmac and everything."

"Surprise." He deadpans, making her snicker.

"You know, for the big bad Ghost you are, you sure need to cause such a fuss about a little cut." Gathering what she needs, she casts him a glance over her shoulder.

"Thought it was your job to make sure I was in the best state possible for deployment?"

She loves this back-and-forth they have. He does too, if the relaxed way he leans back on his arms is anything to go by. It had taken years and years to get to the place they are right now. Years of work, of communication and trust.

"It's my job to take care of the worst, highest profile cases."

"I'd say this is pretty urgent." This playful side of him came out when they were alone.

"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with her spoils.

"Can I prescribe you to stop scaring away the field medics?" She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant. He doesn't wince or cringe or even flinch at the burn, eyes fixed on her face as she works.

"I'm a Lieutenant, I can do what I want."

She pauses, raising an eyebrow. "Are you really pulling rank on me right now?"

He hums, sliding up to hold her hips, tugging her closer. "Don't seem to mind it when we're alone, love." A smirk tugs at his mouth when a flush creeps up the back of her neck. God, he loves that look on her.

"What's gotten into you?" Shaking her head but unable to push down a smile, she works on securing the gauze, taping it down. "Getting clingy, are we now?"

He...well he can't deny it. He doesn't want to tell her the reason for it either, even if she's subtly fishing for answers.

He'd been an inch away from getting shredded by flying shrapnel from a car bomb today.

If Gaz, quick-witted, sharp, Gaz hadn't yelled and yanked him to cover behind a brick wall he would've been embedded with scraps of metal and rusty nails.

Dead, as his namesake.

Ghost wasn't afraid of death. Ghost got up every day ready to not see the sunrise again. Ghost was a cold blooded machine ready to do whatever his orders were.

But Simon wanted to live.

Simon wanted to come home to her. Simon wanted the last thing he saw to be her smile. Simon selfishly wanted her more than any victory his rifle could earn him.

Ghost had been unfazed, Simon had realised the inevitability of the avoided consequence.

Lips press against his bare shoulder. Right, left, and then gently on the gauze. It brings him back to the present, his grip on her tightens for a moment. Her gaze is soft, knowing. Because of course it is. She's the only one who's been able to get into his head like this, been able to crack the code to thoughts he himself doesn't have the key for.

"Any of other glaringly dangerous injuries I need to take a look at?" His eyes follow the smooth line of her neck as she tilts her head towards him. He exhales, shifts, and pulls her closer without warning, banding a strong arm around her.

"Dunno. Think you might have to conduct a comprehensive examination."

She laughs against his lips and goes down with him when he shifts farther up the cot.

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(1/09/2023)

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joonsmagicshop · 13 days

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Needy

Summary: Your mother asks why you haven't given her grandbabies. You tell her you are not ready for that yet but it turns out Yoongi likes the idea very much

Paring: Yoongi/Reader

Word Count: 5K

Rating: M/18+

Tags: Boyfriend Yoongi, Mother daughter relationship that kind of sucks, needy subby Yoongi, soft Dom reader, dirty talk, reader calls him kitten and baby boy, jerking off, sucking off, pregnancy kink, flirting, second hand embarrassment, Yoongi can't get his erection to go down so reader helps, deep throating, face fucking.

Authors Note: The horny demon possessed me again.

Also this picture 🔥🔥🔥

“Yoongi there is a spot right there!” You say

“Can’t park in front of a fire hydrant babe.” He replies, eyes scanning the street

“Okay, what about there!”

“Park next to a Tesla? Absolutely no way.” He says, turning down a side street, eyes still focused trying to find the right parking spot.

“Yoongi please can we just pick a spot?” You ask balancing the meat and cheese tray you brought on your lap and scanning the street.

He smiles at you and turns the car down another street and you see you are getting further away from your parent’s house.

“Or are you being picky because you don’t want to go?” You ask with a teasing tilt to your voice which has Yoongi placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“How dare you Y/N. You know I love going to these extravagant giant parties your mom holds.” He jokes as he turns down another street and begins to search for more parking.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that appears on your face.

“Not sure why you are complaining Yoongs my mom looooves you.” You tease as he scowls and finally finds a spot that seems good enough for him to park his sleek black car into

You can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

But what you said was true.

You had been dating Yoongi for a year now and your mom absolutely adored him. She doted on him whenever he came over and always reminded him how he was her favorite son-in-law (he was her only son-in-law as it was just you and your brother as her kids)

Her relationship with you was much more…complex.

She was a perfectionist in everything she did and while it was impressive it could also be annoying when she expected everyone to be just like her.

You, being the only daughter meant she often criticized you, wanting you to be as perfect and ladylike as her.

This perfectionism shone during her parties. Your mom loved to host parties. Every small gathering got blown out of proportion so she could throw a massive get-together. She would go all out with decor and found herself happiest when she was planning something.

Your grade eight graduation was supposed to be a small gathering of family and it turned into a block party.

Your high school grad was worse as she tried to invite your whole class which you shut down real quick.

You took out your phone and frowned to see your brother finally respond to your text about the party.

“Michael is out. Says his wife and kid have food poisoning.” You say to Yoongi as he finally gets the car in the spot and throws it into park.

You grumble and type back a message as Yoongi chuckles beside you.

“Can’t we tell your mom we have it too?” He jokes as you lightly smack his arm and undo your seatbelt to step out of the car.

Yoongi follows suit and comes around to your side of the car, ever the gentleman holding out his hand so he can help you over the grass which is still slightly damp from yesterday’s rain storm.

It didn’t help you were wearing three-inch heels and a flowy pale blue sundress with small flowers embroidered on it.

You struggled to balance the huge tray of food as Yoongi grabbed your elbow to help steady you over the grass.

“So who are we celebrating again? Alessa and Jonathan right?” He asks pushing his soft brown hair away from his face and smiling down at you.

“Yeah it’s their second child so my mom thought to throw a small gathering.” You say snickering as you walk past the parade of cars that have taken over the whole subdivision.

“Ah, so a small gathering with your cousin’s closest friends got it!” Yoongi teases.

You finally make your way to the driveway and look up in time to see the door being thrown open by your mother who is standing there in a soft white sundress, her hair was curled in her signature style and she had her hands on her hips as you approached.

“Hey, mom.” You say leaning in for a sideways hug as you don’t want to knock the tray in your hands.

“Oh honey, what is with the hair up hmm?” She says signaling to your ponytail which was hanging down your back.

“This is a party I thought you’d wear your hair down for once.” She says with a frown as you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Before you can respond her eyes land on Yoongi.

“Oh let me take a look at my handsome son-in-law!” She squeals as she wraps Yoongi in a hug and you bite back your laugh as she grabs his arm and brings him into the house.

You head to the kitchen and set the tray down amongst all the food as you hear your mom talking Yoongi’s ear off in the dining room.

You pull out your phone to respond to your brother’s text as you let your mom talk to Yoongi.

Once you decide Yoongi has suffered enough you slip your phone back into your purse and walk to the dining room to loop your arm through his.

He shoots you a grateful look as your mom is still chatting, oblivious to the whole thing.

“Mom, where is Alessa? I have a small gift for her.” You ask cutting your mom off her tangent as her eyes finally lock on yours.

“Oh I didn’t even see you come over dear Yoongi and I were just chatting oh… well of course let's get you to the party girl!” Your mom giggles as she leads you out the sliding door and to the expansive backyard.

Yesterday’s rain luckily blew through in time for today to be beautiful. The sky was bright blue with small whispy white clouds scattered throughout. The air was warm with a slight breeze that ruffled your dress as you walked over to the gazebo where the party was being held.

The party girl in question was your cousin Alessa who was lounging on a chair by the pool which your parents opened early for the party.

It was heated anyway so it didn’t matter that it wasn’t blistering hot outside people were enjoying it regardless.

Luckily for you (and Yoongi) someone grabbed your mom’s attention and she was off before you even had a chance to say another word to her.

“We could leave right now and no one would know,” Yoongi mutters in your ear as you shake your head and head over to Alessa.

“Hey!” You greet her as you take in her appearance. She is wearing a flowy red dress and her hands are wrapped around her stomach instinctively, her husband Jonathan waves from the pool where he is teaching their four-year-old daughter how to swim.

“Hi! Oh, I’m so sorry I seriously can’t get up right now your mom had me greeting like fifty different people and I’m exhausted.” She tells you as she swings her legs over the side of the lounge chair to side sideways and you wrap her in a hug.

Your cousin Alessa is three years older than you and absolutely glowing. Her first pregnancy was rough on her so when she announced she was pregnant again the family worried about her. Luckily this time around she seemed to have a much easier time and you were happy about that.

Yoongi shot her a small wave as you dug through your purse to pull out the card you got her. She beamed when you handed it over and patted the seat beside her so you could sit down.

Yoongi took the small folding chair next to her and the three of you chatted.

Party music filled the air and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. You took your time catching up with your favorite cousin as Yoongi listened on nodding occasionally.

Jonathan got out of the pool with Millie on his shoulders and plopped her down right next to her mom. Alessa laughed when Millie climbed on her lap and got her dress soaked with pool water, you scooted over to give the four-year-old some room

“Yoongi good to see you, man.” Jonathan greeted as he patted Yoongi’s back.

“So your mom said this was going to be a small party?” Jonathan said with a grin as his arm swept the area to show how many people turned up.

“I don’t know if they even know it’s for me!” Alessa said with a laugh.

“I don’t mind though good food and good company. I don’t want to be the center of attention anyway. Remember your high school graduation?” She teases as you cover your face with your hands and groan.

Your mom made you wear a bright pink sash that said High School Grad on it and paraded you around the whole party. You were so embarrassed.

“Don’t remind me!” You groaned as Yoongi laughed.

Her ears must have been ringing because suddenly your mom appeared at Jonathan’s side holding a platter of watermelon. She put it down in front of Alessa and smiled at your small group.

“There’s tons of food inside if anyone wants any. Yoongi made a beautiful meat and cheese tray.” Your mom gushes as you fight the urge to once again roll your eyes.

“Actually Y/N made that. I was working late last night so didn’t have a chance to help.” He corrects as you look up at him with a small smile on your face.

“Yoongi you work too hard! Always these late nights! Make sure you take care of yourself too. Don’t want to overwork.” Your mom comments as you reach for a piece of watermelon ignoring the way she didn’t say anything about you making the tray.

It doesn’t matter anyway, you stopped trying to get recognition from her years ago.

“And how’s the baby?” Your mom asks turning to Alessa who is sipping a drink and jostling Millie in her arms to get her more comfortable.

“Good! Kicking a lot today but I think it’s just because of the food. I ate that spicy nacho dip.” She says patting her swollen belly.

“Ah yes, when I was pregnant the first time I craved all spicy food all the time. Her brother was a menace with the kicks.” Your mom responds with a teasing smile as she shoots you a look you know all too well.

You brace yourself knowing the words that will come out of her mouth next

The question she has been asking ever since you brought Yoongi home for the first time.

“So Y/N when are you giving me grandbabies?” She asks turning to face you and staring between you and Yoongi.

Poor Yoongi had never experienced her questioning firsthand and nearly choked on his drink at her words.

You sighed.

“Mom I told you we aren’t ready yet.” You say as you reach for another piece of watermelon hoping she will drop the subject.

“Yes, but honey your father and I aren’t getting younger you know. We want to be grandparents before we pass away!” She says loudly drawing the attention of the crowds standing close by.

Shit.

“I know Mom just not right now okay? I promise you will have grandkids…someday.” You say keeping your answer vague.

“Come on you would look adorable pregnant and we could go shopping and pick out clothes oh! It would be so fun to be a grandmother!” Your mom continues to gush oblivious to your embarrassment and the way Yoongi’s cheeks are stained bright pink and how he won’t stop staring at the floor as if it is the most interesting thing in the world.

“Mom stop! You’re embarrassing Yoongi and I.” You respond trying to cut off her tangent.

“Think of all the money you will save!” Your mom continued, not bothering to listen to what you were saying.

Embarrassment floods your veins as you are stuck in your spot next to your cousin who looks just as horrified as you feel waiting for your mom to stop talking so loud and attracting so much attention.

“Mom stop! Kids are expensive we won’t be saving money.” You hiss standing up trying to get her to stop talking.

Your eyes flick to Yoongi who looks mortified.

“Well yes, but you will be saving money. Protection is so expensive nowadays not having to buy condoms anymore will save you so much money! Plus it will give me grandbabies.” She coos.

You stare at Yoongi in shock as he closes his eyes and buries his hands over his face. You close your eyes and try to think of a way to tell your mom to shut the hell up without sounding so rude.

Your saving grace comes in the form of your father who enters the scene and whispers something in your mom’s ear shutting her up instantly.

“Oh, my friend Melanie is here! Oh, I must go say hi I haven’t seen her in over two months!” She exclaims as she quickly turns and hurries to the front door to greet her friend.

You are still frozen in shock not daring to look around at the group of people who you feel are staring you down.

“Um wow,” Alessa says breaking the uncomfortable silence as you finally lift your head to see everyone has pretty much moved on and is talking amongst themselves again.

You stare at Yoongi who is a brilliant shade of red and still staring at the floor.

“I have no words. Please tell me that didn’t actually happen. My mom told me not to use protection in front of a crowd.” You whine out as Alessa rubs your back.

“I am so sorry but it did happen. And it was wild.” Jonathan says as you look at Yoongi who is still not saying anything but is squirming in his seat.

“Yoongs you okay?” You ask as he slowly sips his drink and nods at you, still looking super uncomfortable.

Millie decides to wake up at that moment and wants to play so Jonathan takes her out to the grass beyond the patio and pool where lawn games are set up.

Another cousin shows up and the conversation switches to girl talk as you try to push down your embarrassment from earlier.

After five minutes Yoongi stands and squeezes your shoulder telling you he is going to use the washroom and will be right back.

You stand to give him a peck on the cheek as you sit back down to continue your chat, slowly sipping your drink and people-watching.

You get so lost in the conversation you hardly notice Yoongi isn’t back yet but when Jonathan comes back with Millie you look around to realize Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m gonna go inside and grab some food.” You tell your cousins as you push yourself up from the chair and walk over to the sliding door cracking it open and entering the quiet house, the noise from the party instantly muted.

You walk to the bathroom on the first floor to see it is free which means Yoongi must be using the upstairs one.

You kick off your heels as you make your way up the hardwood steps, bare feet silent on the floor.

You see the door is closed and you snicker before lightly knocking.

“Occupied!” Yoongi’s voice rings out as you smile.

“Yoongs it’s me.” You reply and you hear him rush to the door and throw it open. He grabs your arm and drags you inside the bathroom shutting the door with his foot and pinning you up against the vanity.

“Yoongi!” You exclaim as his lips find yours and he kisses you with such passion it steals your breath from your lungs.

His hands are holding your hips steady as he ruts into you, his body pushing against yours with such force the countertop bites into your skin.

“Yoongi baby. What’s going on?” You ask breathless as his lips move down to your neck and begin to suck and bite at the skin. His hands frantically rub your sides as he continues to grind his crotch into you.

“Need you. Fuck need you so bad.” He begs as he pulls the straps of your dress down to get more access to your skin and you throw your head back and moan.

His lips are hot against your skin and he is rutting into you in a way where you can feel the full length of his bulge pressing into your core. His hands grip your hips as he fucks into you with force which has your back arching and moans falling from your mouth.

You are in a lust-filled haze as Yoongi’s fingers trail up the slit in your dress, his fingers teasing the inside of your thighs you are about to open your legs and give him what he wants when you hear the sliding door open downstairs and you freeze.

Someone is in the house.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to hear it as he sucks a harsh mark on your neck and you put your hands on his chest to push him back as you hear footsteps downstairs.

“Yoongs we have to stop so-someone is in the house.” You say breathless as he finally looks up at you and you gasp.

His eyes are blown wide and so dark they are almost black. His tongue darts out to wet his swollen lips and his hair is a mess atop his head.

Yoongi lets out a whine and steps forward as you strain to hear if someone is still in the kitchen downstairs. He brings his head to your shoulder and begins to nuzzle your skin, small moans leaving his mouth.

“Yoongs baby what has gotten into you?” You ask softly petting his hair and trying to flatten it as his tongue darts out to lick at your skin.

“I got hard. So fucking hard so I came up here to see if I could make it go away and it won’t fucking go away.” He whines as he rolls his hips into yours giving you delicious friction against your core.

“And you thought furiously making out with me would make it go away?” You tease as he whines loudly against your skin and continues to rut against you desperately. His body still caging you in as he looks up at you through thick lashes and sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I’m so horny and I tried everything to get it to go down but I’m so fucking hard. I didn’t jerk off because…well it’s weird to jerk off in my girlfriend’s parents’ bathroom but baby I’m so fucking horny. It won’t go away.” He whines softly still pouting as his lips come to find your neck once again and he delivers you soft kisses.

You hear the screen door close and you let out a sigh as you push him back from you once more.

“Yoongs baby what got you so horny? You fucked me last night remember?” You say blushing at the memory of you riding him and how good he felt stuffed inside of you.

“Don’t remind me, please. We want this to go away not get harder.” He begs as he buries his head into your chest and lets out a frustrated sigh.

You let out a soft laugh and rub his back affectionately.

You can still feel his cock pressing against your core and you reach a hand down between your bodies to stroke him. He closes his eyes and bites his lip to keep from moaning.

“What got you so horny Yoongs hmmm? My baby boy usually isn’t so desperate.” You say taking on the dominant role as Yoongi’s body seems to soften into yours.

Even though he likes being dominant you find he equally likes being subby and being your baby boy.

“Please don’t freak out.” He says in a small voice as you remove your hand from his cock to stroke at his hair.

The sliding door opens again downstairs and you continue to comfort him.

“Tell me, baby boy. What has my kitten all worked up?” You ask as he flutters his eyes closed and buries his face into your shoulder whining.

“Talking about you being pregnant. At first, I was horrified your mom would bring it up. But then. Thinking of you. Dripping with my seed. Pregnant with my child. All swollen and big… all because we fucked. And fucking you without a condom. God Y/N.” He whispers out as he starts to rut his hips into you again, pushing his cock into your hip and making you bite back a moan.

He ruts against you as you stroke his hair and give him soft kisses to his temple.

“I need to cum so bad, I don’t think my cock is ever going to go down.” He whimpers as he holds you steady and continues to grind against you. His greedy hands rubbing at the bare skin of your arms.

“So you have a pregnancy kink?” You question as he stills his movements to look up at you with lust-blown eyes.

“Yes? No? I don’t know I just know the thought of fucking you, filling you with my cum is making me painfully hard. Help. God, please touch me. Please do something. I can’t go back to the party like this.” He whines desperately as he captures your lips in a heated kiss.

His body is flushed against yours and his hands trail up and down your arms. You feel your core throb at his words as he continues to grind his hips into yours harder, desperate to seek some relief for his aching hard-on that is still trapped in his tight pants.

You part your legs to give him some room and he slots his bulge perfectly against your core. You let out a whine against his lips when he grinds into you frantically, practically humping your leg in the process.

“Want me to jerk you off baby boy? Make you cum around my fist?” You ask as he nods and bites his lip.

You pull away to reach between your bodies to undo the button of his jeans. When you slide the zipper down and open his pants his swollen cock quickly fills up the space and you tease the head of his cock with the tip of your finger.

“Wanna fuck you. God, please let me fuck you.” He begs out as his eyes start to water with desperate tears.

“Do you have a condom? We both aren’t ready for kids yet.” You remind him as you pull his pants down to his ankles and see his cock straining against the dark material of his tight boxers.

You let your fingers dance against his hard shaft and he whines.

“No, I forgot to replace the one in my wallet. I wanna fuck you so bad.” he almost cries.

You’ve seen Yoongi desperate before, usually when you are edging him or having him tied up but you have never seen him desperate like this.

His eyes are wide and tearful and his teeth are biting into his lip. His hands are still grabbing at your arms tightly and he looks on the verge of insanity.

“I know baby boy. I know you want to fuck me but we don’t have a condom so we can’t.”

He lets out a whine as tears slip from his eyes.

“How about I suck you off yeah? Get some of that tension out then when we get home I’ll let you fuck me however you want. With a condom on though. Okay, kitten?” You coo as he nods and you finally pull down his underwear.

What a sight his cock is.

Hard and leaking precum the head is red from the lack of attention and his shaft is twitching slightly.

He groans when you finally wrap a hand around it and you shush him with a giggle.

“You have to be a good Kitten and not make a sound okay? The whole party doesn’t need to know how desperate my baby boy is and how hard his cock is. God Yoongs your so fucking hard for me.” You whisper as you circle his cock and he buries his face on your shoulder to muffle his noises.

You jerk him slowly focusing on the head of his cock as Yoongi moans and whines into your shoulder. He is steadily leaking pre cum and you can feel how pent up he is by how his cock is throbbing in your hand.

“You have to be good now and don’t make noise. I’m gonna suck you off okay kitten. Be good for me yeah?” You ask as Yoongi nods and you sink to the floor sucking at the tip and making his eyes roll in the back of his head and his hips shoot forward.

You jerk his cock in tandem with your mouth and Yoongi is doing everything in his power to stay quiet. Your mouth feels so good against his aching shaft and he can’t help but curl his toes against the tile floor when you take him deep.

Your nose presses against his pubes and he lets a filthy moan slip from his lips. You pull back immediately and look up at him, stilling your movements and driving him to insanity.

“Please don’t stop, please. Y/N I’m so hard it hurts I need to cum please.” He begs out as tears slip down his cheeks.

You lap at the tip of his cock again making him shove his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming. His hands come to tangle in your hair as he forces himself to breathe through his nose and not wildly fuck your throat.

Your hand leaves his shaft to play with his balls which are swollen and begging to be touched. Your hand comes up to fondle them and Yoongi throws his head back as a stifled moan leaves his mouth.

You can feel your own arousal slick on your thighs as you watch Yoongi inch toward orgasm as you work him harder.

You grin against his cock and wrap your fingers around his shaft again. You deep-throat him down and Yoongi lets out a choked moan as he shoves his fingers in his mouth.

“Tell me Yoongs what do you want baby boy?” You ask pulling off from him and resting your head on his shaky thigh.

“Wanna fuck your throat. Please Y/N, please. I’m so close. It hurts. Please I wanna cum” He begs as you obey and suck him back into your mouth and keep your head steady.

His hands come to brace your head and he begins to fuck into your mouth. Softly at first to get you used to the feeling and then he starts to pick up the pace.

He fucks into your mouth harshly as his hands grasp at your hair making your scalp sting. He is trying his best to stay quiet above you as you open your throat wider and tears cloud your vision as he chokes you with his cock.

“Please Y/N, please. I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum. Ohmygod please.” he cries out as he continues to harshly fuck your mouth and you open it wider.

He wails and cums down your throat as you swallow all he gives you.

You keep your nose pressed against his pubes as you swallow him down and soak in the noises he is making above you, somewhere between a groan and a sob as he slows his thrusts.

You take your time pulling off his softening cock and you lick his cockhead clean before standing up on shaky legs to stare at Yoongi.

His hair is a sweaty mess and his eyes are still blown wide. His lips are bruised from all the biting and he looks blissfully fucked out.

“Thank you thank you thank you.” He praises you as he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks and kisses you softly. You can feel the relief radiating off of him.

“Feel better Kitten?” You mutter against his lips as he pulls back and nods suddenly looking shy.

“You are so good to me. God how did I get so lucky.” He praises you as he strokes your hair and continues to pepper kisses on your lips and cheeks.

“I’m the lucky one Yoongs.” You respond as he pulls away and fixes his wild hair.

Your arousal is leaking down your thighs and you grimace when you feel it.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks as you reach for some toilet paper to get yourself cleaned up.

“Seeing you like that got me all wet. Just gotta get cleaned up kitten.” You say slowly cleaning between your legs.

“I can take care of that you know.” He reminds you with a smirk as you softly smile at him.

“I know you can Kitten but we have been gone from the party long enough because my baby boy was a needy little thing and needed to fuck my throat to feel better.” You remind him as he buries his face in your neck and whines.

“Don’t. Y/N please dont we just got my cock to soften.” He begs as you let out a small chuckle.

“Sorry, Yoongi. I’ll save it for later. Now come on we gotta go back or people will get suspicious.” You say grabbing his hand and exiting the bathroom.

“We could just leave… you know. Take care of things now?” He teases you with a lift of an eyebrow and wink as you smack his arm softly and lead your boy back out to the sunshine and the party.

#Min Yoongi #Yoongi #Yoongi smut #Yoongixreader #Yoongi/reader #yoongixreadersmut #yoongi/reader smut #bts smut #yoongi fic

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adiraargent · 4 months

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Kiss Me Again - Mattheo Riddle

Request: heyy oh my God I seriously love your work, could you do one where they are best friends but like each other and won't confess but one day they both realise they are in love wc: 4.2k warnings: fluff, kissing, swearing Summary: you and Mattheo have been friends since the beginning of school, the two of you like each other but neither wants to admit it, scared that it would damage your relationship. The two of you decide to take a break from studying and sneak around Hogwarts and then one thing leads to another...

Mattheo Riddle, he had been your best friend for pretty much as long as you can remember. You grew up together, helped eachother threw everything, stuck by each others sides. You were fortunate to have most of your classes together, and even outside of class the two of you hung out.

You had the same friends, got pretty much the same grades and had very similar hobbies... it was rare to see one without the other.

The Hogwarts library stood as a citadel of tranquility, a bastion of wisdom and knowledge amidst the bustling halls of Hogwarts. Right now, you and Mattheo Riddle found yourselves engrossed in your studies, the air thick with the scent of parchment and the soft murmur of whispered incantations.

Seated side by side at a wooden table tucked amidst towering shelves, you and Mattheo immersed yourselves in textbooks and scrolls, the task at hand a mere facade for the unspoken emotions that danced between you.

Mattheo’s voice cut through the silence, "You alright, you've been pretty quiet for a while?"

You shot him a playful glare, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Well we are in the library Mattheo, we're meant to be quiet."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips, "yeah well you practically never shut up," a small laugh falling from his lips. This of course earnt him an eye roll, which he caught onto, yet he somehow managed to miss the little sparkle that glinted in your eye as you looked at his smiling face.

You sat there for a while, occasionally bickering or leaning over to ask for help when getting stuck on something, but due to exams coming up in only a few days, the two of you understood that you had to try your best to stay on task. Textbooks sprawled open, parchment filled with notes, and a shared determination to conquer the complexities of magical theory.

"Have you seen this spell?" you queried, pointing to a particularly intricate incantation in your book. You had been looking at it for the past 10 minutes or so, waving your wand around trying to get the right movement, but it seemed no matter how hard you tried, it just wasnt working how you wanted it to.

Mattheo leaned closer, his presence enveloping you in a warmth that sparked an indescribable sensation. You felt the hairs on your arm stick up, a warm feeling flushing in your chest as he leaned over your shoulder. "Ah, that one’s tricky. Let me show you a more efficient way to cast it."

His nearness sent a flutter through your senses, a magnetic pull that threatened to unravel the careful veil hiding the unspoken desires within. He reached over, his hand landing on top of yours and guiding your hand smoothly, "there you are, easy peasy."

"Thanks..." you murmured out, finally taking a breath as he leant back away from you.

As the sun dipped lower, signaling the arrival of evening, you and Mattheo began to gather your belongings. The unspoken feelings simmered beneath the layers of laughter and stolen glances, a silent understanding that bound your hearts in a dance of friendship and concealed affection.

Mattheo broke the tranquil silence, his voice softer than usual. "The library is closing soon, we should continue this in my dorm. You should head back to your dorm and get in something more comfy then come over"

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. "Yeah, ok are the boys in the dorm?"

"Nah Jasper and Theodore are over in Lorenzo's dorm and Draco is with Blaise," Mattheo replied, his gaze holding a depth that hinted at more than mere friendship as he packed his books, "so it'll be just us."

"Cool, see ya soon," you grinned widely, brushing your hair behind your ear unconciously.

After getting changed into something more comfortablein your dorm and a fresh spritz of purfume on you began your walk back to Mattheo's dorm (I'm trying my best to make it so it doesnt matter what house you are in so sorry if it's a little confusing). You couldnt help it as your mind trailed off to Mattheo. You knew you shouldnt be feeling this way, but you couldnt help it... this is wrong, he's my best friend.

He was more than that though, he was an important aspect in your life, and you couldnt imagine life without him.He’s always had your back and stood up for you. He's defended you against teachers and students, he's protected you from the dark horrors that come with being born to Bellatrix Lestrange and Tom Riddle, growing up in Malfoy Manor.

You were well aware of the fact that you've liked him for a while now, just a small girl crush... but lately its only seemed to get worse. You’ve caught yourself staring at him frequently, admiring his brown curls and earthy eyes, you've tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of butterflies that you get every time he laughs, or the tingling sting that you get whenever your skin comes in contact with his.

In the embrace of his hug, you find solace, pressed snugly against the contours of his toned chest. The rhythmic thud of his heartbeat against your skin forms an intimate symphony, a melody that soothes your very core, making you feel inexplicably safe.

His gentle touch, brushing away a stray tendril of hair from your face, sends a wave of warmth coursing through you. It's a tender gesture that beckons you to close your eyes and surrender to the comforting sensation of his fingers against your skin.

As his hand encircles your waist, drawing you nearer, an undeniable sense of belonging washes over you. In that moment, with Mattheos’s touch securing you, it feels like the perfect fit—your bodies in sync, entwined in a moment that feels destined.

The yearning for more intensifies, an undeniable craving for closeness, for the electrifying sensation of his touch. It's a desire that lingers, urging you to lean into the embrace, to savor every shared moment with Mattheo, wishing for an eternity in his arms

Shit I sound crazy you rolled your eyes at yourself, shaking the thoughts off and continuing your walk.

What you didnt know was that Mattheo had felt the same way. You didnt notice how he had started sitting even closer to you now, or the fact that he was constantly trying to come up with ways to inconspicuously touch you. You didnt notice the way he would put his hand on your back and lead you threw the halls when there were lots of people, or how if you were ever close to hitting your head on the corner of a cupboard or desk he would reach over and cover the surface with his hand.

Once you finally get to the door of his dorm, you knock a few times before pushing the door open, walking in to find Mattheo on the bed. "Hey Theo," you grumbled, dropping your bag to the ground and then jumping on the bed next to him with a tired sigh.

"Hey love."

“come on, you've got it, just try it a few more times and it'll be perfect”, Mattheo says from his desk, his chair rolling around to face you where you were lying on his bed, books laying around you.

“I cant do it Theo”, you sigh loudly, throwing your head back dramatically, “it's a stupid spell and I probably wont even use it after we leave school so why the hell do we even have to learn it.”

“Quit whining”, Mattheo replies, laughing whilst shaking his head, "it's not even that hard."

“It's not fair, why does an idiot like you get to be so smart without even trying”, you pout softly, pulling yourself up in a sitting position.

Mattheo's insistence on revisiting the notes for the umpteenth time made you almost desperate. You were tired and this was beginning to get frustrating, you hated it when you werent good at something. You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak up. "Please, Theo. I understand that good grades mean everything to you and how pressured you are with all of this, but I'm seriously starting to go out of my mind. I have hardly slept and this is giving me a really bad headache."

His silence made you nervous; you hadn't intended to come across so harshly. Mattheo seemed absorbed in his thoughts, clearly thinking about what to say or do. He understood that you were tired, the two of you, along with much of your grade had been waking up early and going to sleep late for the last few weeks in order to study for the exams. But this was all important, the two of you planned to become Aurors together when you left school, and you needed really good grades for that.

You bit your lip, grappling with your impatience. "Matth-"

A frustrated sigh escaped Mattheo's lips. You felt guilty, you knew why he tried so hard for his grades. He didnt want to turn out like his mother and father and the people around him at home, he wanted to do good. He needed good grades to help him escape.

Meeting his gaze, you found his intense brown eyes locked onto yours. "I apologize. You're right," he admitted, raking his hand through his brunette curls, your eyes went wide in shock, you hadnt actually expected him to agree with you, and you definietly didnt think that the next words would fall out of his lips, "hell it might even be a good idea for me to have a break, i'm tired too-"

Mattheo stood up, shutting his books and then stumbling over to the bed, a goofy smile on his face as he stuck his hand out in your direction. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, not exactly sure where he was going with this. When you said that the two of you needed to take a break, you just thought that the two of you would just chill and talk for a while, maybe lay down for a bit.

"Up ya hop," he beckoned, making a grabby motion with his hands a few times before sticking his open palm closer to your face, "move it or lose it mate," he continues. You raise your brows at him, hesitating before carefully reaching out to take his hand

Should I grab his hand?

"Merlin," Mattheo groaned, rolling his eyes before just grabbing her hand and then tugging her off the bed

"Hey asshole!" you complained, glaring up at him as he tugged you towards the door of his dorm, grabbing a jumper that was hanging over the back of his desk chair.

"Dont blame me, if we sat around here waiting for you to make up your mind then we'd be waiting till christmas," Mattheo complained sarcastically, pulling her down the hall and towards the main part of the common room.

As Mattheo dragged you along, you stumbled to keep up with his brisk pace, shooting him an annoyed glare. "Seriously, where are we going?" you demanded, trying to slow his progress by digging your heels into the floor.

But Mattheo seemed determined, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just trust me," he said with a smirk, not offering any further explanation.

You let out an exasperated sigh but relented, deciding to go along with whatever crazy idea he had in mind. You allowed him to tug you through the common room and out into the crisp evening air of the halls of the castle. It was late at night and since they were in the dungeons, it was freezing. There were no students anywhere, and the teachers were also more than likely in bed.

"Wait, Mattheo, it's freezing out here!" you protested, shivering as a gust of wind swept by, making you regret not grabbing a jacket.

He chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the cold. "Don't worry, I've got you covered," he assured, reaching for the jumper he had grabbed earlier. With a grin, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the fabric immediately comforting.

"Thanks," you mumbled, feeling a bit guilty for calling him an asshole just moments ago.

Without missing a beat, Mattheo resumed his course, leading you through the halls. Mattheo glanced around the halls, noticing the dimly lit corners and hidden alcoves. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in and whispered, "I've heard rumors about secret passages hidden within the castle. Wanna go on a little exploration?"

Your curiosity piqued at the mention of secret passages. Nodding eagerly, you followed Mattheo as he led the way, navigating through the deserted corridors of the castle. Shadows danced on the walls, and the quiet of the night added an eerie yet thrilling atmosphere to your adventure.

Stopping in front of an intricately designed tapestry depicting a hunting scene, Mattheo grinned. "This is it," he whispered excitedly, pulling on a loose thread near the edge of the tapestry.

To your amazement, the tapestry shifted, revealing a concealed entrance behind it. Mattheo gestured for you to follow as he stepped through the hidden doorway. The passage was dimly lit by flickering torches, the air cool and musty.

You trailed behind Mattheo as you ventured deeper into the hidden corridors. The passages twisted and turned, leading you through a labyrinthine network beneath the castle. Dusty tomes and forgotten artifacts lined shelves carved into the stone walls, hinting at the secrets hidden within.

Occasionally, you stumbled upon locked doors or dead ends, but Mattheo's enthusiasm never waned. He seemed to have a natural talent for navigating the hidden passages, leading you further into the mysterious depths of the castle.

After what felt like an exhilarating journey through time and history, you stumbled upon a chamber bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. In the center stood an ancient-looking pedestal with a book resting upon it, emitting a faint shimmer.

"Is that...?" you started, your voice barely a whisper as you glanced at Mattheo, both of you captivated by the enigmatic sight before you.

Mattheo nodded in awe, his eyes reflecting the soft light. "I heard that there used to be this Ancient magic around Hogwarts that only a select few could see and use... apparently a goblin called Ranrok or something tried to gain control of that power but was stopped by a Hogwarts student who could see and use the magic, this is supposed to be her diary or something, there could be some cool stuff in there," he murmured, approaching the pedestal with caution.

You joined him, the book's pages radiating an otherworldly aura. As you reached out to touch it, a distant sound echoed through the chamber—a faint rattling followed by the unmistakable shuffle of footsteps.

Startled, you exchanged a quick glance with Mattheo before hastily retreating back into the hidden passages, leaving the mysterious book untouched. Heart pounding with excitement and adrenaline, you navigated the twisting corridors, making your way back to the safety of the castle's main corridors.

Breathless and exhilarated, you both burst into laughter as you emerged from the hidden entrance, relieved to have escaped without detection.

Caught up in the thrill of your secret exploration, you and Mattheo leaned against the castle wall, trying to catch your breath. The rush of adrenaline and the shared excitement created a bond between you that felt unbreakable.

As you exchanged a knowing glance, the unspoken promise of more adventures lingered in the air, filling you both with a sense of anticipation for the mysteries yet to be unraveled within the castle's hidden passages.

"Students out of bed!" They suddenly hear, their eyes widening at the familiar voice or Filch. They turned their heads to look down the corridor, a small hint of light making its way closer from one of the corners further down

"Oh shit!" Mattheo whispered, grabbing your hand and then yanking you through the halls once again.

"You can run but you cant hide!"

"Ouch Mattheo! You're gonna rip my fucking arm off you pri-"

Mattheo had grabbed you around the waist and thrown you over his shoulder. A small 'hmph' falling from your lips at the rough impact of his shoulder digging into your stomach. "Theo that hurts!" you whisper yell, smaking him softly on the back as he continues to run, Filch on your tail.

Mattheo quickly turns the corner and then pulls you both into a cupboard, slamming the door shut behind you both and putting you on the ground in front of him, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, a few small beads of sweat trickling down his forhead.

Mattheo let out an annoyed groan, "Fuck that was cl-"

You slap your hand over his mouth with one hand, using your free hand to put your finger up to your lips, telling him to shush before leaning your head against the door, trying to listen to whatever was going on outside, praying to god that Filch wasnt going to find you.

The footsteps outside grew louder, the sound of keys jingling and muttering becoming clearer. Filch's voice pierced through the silence, his grumbling indicating his frustration at not finding the mischievous students.

Mattheo's chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes wide with anticipation and a hint of nervous excitement. You pressed against the door, your heart racing in sync with the rapid beat of footsteps passing by the cupboard's hiding spot.

Silence descended upon the corridor, broken only by the distant echoes of Filch's fading voice as he continued his search elsewhere. Mattheo let out a relieved exhale, his shoulders slumping as he leaned back against the cupboard.

"Phew," he whispered, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shot him a playful glare, still catching your breath from being carried over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Warn me before you decide to play hero next time," you teased, trying to suppress a giggle.

Mattheo chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sorry about that, had to think fast. You know how Filch is, always lurking around looking for cool kids like me."

"I think you mean dumbasses," you shot back jokingly

"Well you're out here too arent you?" he fired, a raised eyebrow paired with a smirk on his handsome face

"Hush," you grinned.

"Merlin im buggered," Mattheo yawned. Mattheo flashed you a grin, his eyes alight with excitement. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the thrill of the chase mixing with the shared relief at narrowly avoiding getting caught. "Definitely an adventure I won't forget anytime soon," you replied, still catching your breath.

You nodded in agreement, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the near encounter. The adrenaline rush began to fade, you went to open the door, pushing on it, but it didnt seem to budge.

“It won’t open.” You mumbled out, trying to push the door again

“What?” Mattheo asked, his breathing starting to go back to normal

“It won’t open.” you repeated with a frown as you pushed against the door yet again, but the hardwood didn’t budge.

"Yeah right," Mattheo muttered out, going to push the door thinking that maybe you just werent pushing it hard enough, "what the hell..."

“It’s…not so bad. It is probably just jammed or something — do you have your wand?.”

The realization that the door wouldn't budge sent a jolt of unease through both of you. Mattheo reached into his pocket, rummaging around for his wand, but his expression turned to one of dismay.

"Damn it, I left it back in the dorm room," he muttered, a tinge of worry edging into his voice. "But don't worry, its only a few more hours till everyone is up so someone will find us soon, and until then we can just chill or try and get the door open"

"This isn't good," you murmured, trying to keep your tone steady despite the rising worry in your chest.

The night was not supposed to go like this.

Heat sweltered between them, and not only because of the walls encasing them on every side, and the small space plus their added body heat, but the fact that they were so close together.

“Stop moving.” Mattheo mumbled as he looked up at the ceiling, his cheeks pink as he forced himself to look away from her, trying his best to stay calm and not freak out from the close proximity

"Sorry," you muttered, but once again shuffled unconsciously, the nerves taking over you as you grew more and more anxious, you didnt do well with small spaces, you were tired, and you were chest to chest with the boy you cared for more than anyone else

"Y/n." Mattheo grumbled sternly

“I can’t help it!” You responded anxiously. “Im tired and my legs are so sore, theres rat shit on the ground so I cant sit down, and I'm fucking cold Mattheo,” She pounded on the door, no longer caring if they got in trouble from the teachers, she just wanted to get out of there

“Hey, hey, you've just gotta stay calm okay, its alright!” Mattheo said softly, realising just how much she was beginning to freak out.

The cramped space amplified the tension between you, a mix of frustration, anxiety, and the unspoken feelings lingering in the air. Mattheo's attempts to keep the atmosphere calm were admirable, but the situation tested both your patience and composure.

"I know, I know," you muttered, attempting to steady your breathing. "I'm just... I'm not good with this. It's too much."

Mattheo's eyes softened with understanding, his usual mischievous demeanor giving way to a more caring expression. He reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay. We'll get through this," he said, his voice calming, though the unease lingered in his own words, "im here okay, you're okay."

You looked up at him, gazing into his brown eyes. He gave you a small smile

Damn it, theres that stupid feeling again.

His smile was then replaced with an unreadable expression. "You okay?" you muttered, confused by his atttitude change

Mattheo's eyes lingered on you, an unspoken question reflecting in their depths. "You know, I've been thinking..."

Your heart raced, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. "About what?"

"I uh... nah its stupid," he muttered, shaking his head, looking annoyed with himself

"It isnt stupid Theo, you can tell me, I wont judge you," you smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

He hesitated, "well its about..." his usual confidence faltering as he looked away, his words carrying a raw vulnerability. "About us... about our friendship."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your heart beating a frantic rhythm. "What about it?"

"We've been dancing around something," Mattheo confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, "something we've both been too scared to acknowledge."

Your breath hitched, the gravity of the moment sinking in as your gazes met, an unspoken understanding passing between you.

"I've been... feeling things," Mattheo admitted, his voice trembling slightly, "things that I've been too afraid to voice."

Your eyes softened, your vulnerability mirroring his own. "I know. Me too."

Even the cupboard seemed to hold its breath, the weight of your shared revelations hanging in the air. In that moment of quiet confession, the unspoken words that had lingered between you for so long found their voice, weaving a tapestry of emotions that had been hidden away.

With hearts laid bare and emotions laid bare, the unspoken became spoken, and the unacknowledged became understood. Love, so long restrained by the fear of losing a cherished friendship, now flowed freely between you, binding you in a bond deeper than friendship.

Your eyes widened slightly as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. "Mattheo..."

Are we moving too fast?

"Can I kiss you?" Mattheo asked softly, a pleading tone in his voice as he anxiously knibbled on the inside of his cheek. His anxiety wasnt soothed as you stared at him with wide eyes, shocked that all of this was actually happening.

He went to pull away, his cheeks flushing in embarassment, "I uh, you know... joking... just jo-"

You cut him off, pushing your lips against his, catching him by surprise. His eyes widened, his breath getting caught in his throat but he quickly regained composure, pulling you against his chest firmly as he kissed you deeper.

The two of you pulls away for a second, wide, giddy grins on your faces as you looked into eachothers eyes for a few seconds before leaning forwards again, your lips moulding together perfectly. The kiss became heated, your hands wrapping around his neck and his hands cupping your face, his thumbs rubbing against your skin softly. You stood up on your tippy toes, leaning into him even more.

You were the first one to pull away, looking up at Mattheo whose eyes remained closed for a few more moments, basking in the taste and feel of your soft lips. You smile widely, his smile matching yours as his eyes flutter open. His left thumb moves from your cheek to your lip, rubbing it softly.

You look up into his eyes and you see it.

Love.

"Kiss me again?" he whispered

"Only if you say please," you joke, leaning forward once more.

Credit to adiraargent. Please do not copy or repost anywhere. Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to leave a request :p

Wattpad: adira_argent

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centipedelightning · 6 months

Note

Hi there I was wondering how you think the skeleboys (especially the papyrus's) would fel about a really tall S/O like I'm talking like just a little under 8 feet tall (they could be a monster if that helps). Established romantic relationship.

(Underfell, undertale, underswap plus dealers' choice again if you want :D)

PS: Love your work. You're totally underrated

skdjgdskj This is so fun. and thank you!! I'm glad you like my stuff!! tbh I think I'm average rated when you consider the fact that I never fucking post dkfghkg. I don't want to talk about how old this request is...

| UT/UF/US x Super Tall!gn!Reader || Romantic || fluff |

Sans

Listen

He's already a pretty short guy.

So he's used to being towered over.

But eight feet?? Yeah, you aren't getting away with it.

Sans is standing on Everything to be at eye level with you.

Everything.

I hope you like being big spoon because that is what you will be for the rest of forever.

Damn near every time he wants to kiss you, he will make a joke about climbing a tree/mountain/skyscraper.

The only way to shut him up is to lean down and kiss him. Please do he's not afraid to reuse old material and that's when it gets super painful to listen to.

The lazybones is never going to reach for anything again. Ever.

Papyrus

He's already used to being shorter than a number of other Monsters, so he doesn't think too much of it.

If you were a human he would make a surprised comment about how he didn't know humans could get so tall, but that would be the extent of it.

He actually likes when you have to lean down to kiss him. It makes him fluttery because he is the one that usually has to stoop down.

He loves dancing around with you! For similar reasons to the kissing thing, he's usually the one to lead because he's usually taller, so your relationship is a welcome change.

If you ever dare to rest your arm on his head or noogie him he will a) complain loudly and b) go apologize to Sans because he's "NEVER REALIZED THE STRUGGLES OF BEING SO SHORT".

Red

This guy has a complex okay.

Instead of joking with your height, he'll joke against it.

i.e. he will do whatever he can to jokingly treat you like you are short.

If you are sitting down anywhere, Red is gonna drag a stool or chair over, get up on it, and joke about you being short.

Don't you dare hit your head on a doorframe you will never hear the end of it.

Shameless in just dragging you down to his level when he wants a kiss.

You two can go to bed in any cuddling position you want, you're more than likely going to wake up with Red koala bear-ed to your side.

Good luck getting out of there by the way; his grip strength is surprisingly intense.

Edge

In a similar vein to Papyrus, Edge is used to people being taller than him. He's just also whiny about it.

He'll try to "prove himself" in every little way he can regardless of how annoying it might be. Tall shelf? Prepare to get shoved out of the way so Edge can get it for you despite the fact that you are significantly taller.

He won't say it but he does appreciate not needing to hunch over to talk to people.

He will say that he doesn't like looking up so far. He'll say it constantly.

Lovesss clothing shopping with you. The man has taste and money. You will never struggle for well-fitted, good-looking clothes.

He has his besties at the tailors that will soon become your besties as well. The hottest power couple ever truly.

Dogamy and Dogaressa look out.

Blue

So fine. So, so fine.

On his best behaviour really!

Blue pulls the same "prove he's capable by doing tall things for you" shtick Edge does but he's completely unaware he's doing it.

If you say you're gonna get up and get a glass of water, he's already in the kitchen telling you he's got it. Not a setup if you're more lazily-inclined.

Do you treasure your teeth? I hope not.

He will jump up to kiss you and by god can that man put some oomph into a jump.

If he starts looking at you with a suspicious glint in his eyelight do yourself a favour and just lean down.

Stretch

Little spoons. That's his number one activity with you.

Due to his height, Stretch can't usually be the person who gets cuddled vs. does the cuddling so you are very exciting for him.

Love love loves rotting on the couch with you.

If you're a human, his favorite spot is to lay on your chest and doze while listening to your heartbeat.

If you're a Monster, it's more in the center of your sternum to listen to the magical buzz of your soul.

You will experience more pranks than you think you can bear. You know the plastic wrap across a doorframe prank? Yeah.

You have been lured into a false sense of confidence because if Stretch is tall, he wouldn't possibly pull that kind of bullshit on you right? He would have to trip his own trap right?

Don't underestimate Monster building codes. Those doorways are Tall. He has room.

After a certain point, you learn to just duck through every doorway.

It doesn't help.

#sans x reader #papyrus x reader #undertale x reader #undertale scenarios #undertale imagines #sans undertale #papyrus undertale #underfell #underswap #x reader #reader insert #ut!sans #ut!papyrus #uf!sans #uf!papyrus #us!sans #us!papyrus #•centipede writes•#undertale

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vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

Midnight Piano Interlude in D Minor, Op. 1

Summary: Growing pains don’t go away the moment you reach adulthood, instead it goes by a different name: Regret.

Word Count: 17.9k ( I have a problem, no I cannot fix it)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Pianist!Reader, Aspiring musician!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic (look at the word count), Heavy Angst, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Childhood friends to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, a lot of memories from the past, Fluff, Second chance romance, TW: Character death (Alhaitham’s grandma), TW: Themes about regret and low self-confidence, Heavy adult themes, gifted kid burn-out, toxic family, unhappy childhood, unhealthy relationship dynamics, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Service top! Alhaitham, mutual pining? kinda, unrequited love? sorta, slightly obsessive!Alhaitham, Soft!Alhaitham, Alhaitham is not faultless his current views have been formed through trial and painful error.

Authors Note: This is very experimental. I almost didn’t want to post it, but I just believe even the most stoic person isn’t without their past mistakes and regrets. Alhaitham doesn’t understand most forms of art... but he does value music. Enjoy.

There was something off about this stanza, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. A cup of now room-temperature coffee was on your dining table, next to the sheets of music you were currently editing. Tapping the end of the pencil on your lip as you shut your eyelids. You played the notes on the paper in your head.

It was an early Saturday afternoon, so you still had plenty of time before you had to go to your gig. It was a ritual on Saturdays that you would edit and write your compositions. A peaceful way to transition out of your lowly officer worker identity, and into the pianist you were. The thought of spreadsheets would be slowly replaced by lines of musical notes.

At this moment there were no emails to be answered. No shallow dry small talk from nosy cubical neighbors. No long meetings in uncomfortable chairs about irrelevant projects.

Just the low hum of your refrigerator accompanying your experimental melodies. It was your time to embrace your aspirations that were contained to only two days every week, but it was worth all forty-eight hours.

The fingers on your free hand tapped against the chipped lacquer table, envisioning the keys of your keyboard currently stationed in the crowded living room. Your fingers stilled as your eyes fluttered open. You found the error, crossing out the D major scale and changing it to D minor instead. Yes, D minor fits the somber tone of this piece much better.

Excitement bubbled up inside you, that small tweak had finally solved that bothersome feeling that had been vexing you the whole week. Oh, you felt it, you were in the zone now, inspiration and motivation were just flowing undisrupted through you. Quickly gathering up the sheet music, you sauntered to your keyboard, sitting down on the cheap pull-out bench.

There was no reason to worry about a noise complaint when it was in the middle of the day, but to follow social etiquette you made sure to lower the volume on the keyboard to just barely above mute. It was time to put everything together, you put your hands into position eager to press down on the smooth keys to finally hear the composition you had worked so hard on-

“Be careful with that! My unfinished models are in that box! Don’t just slam it down!” A voice boomed from the hall outside your door.

The sudden disturbance cut off the flow within you, fingers hovering over the keys. Of course, asking for peace and quiet in this dust heap apartment complex was a luxury the residents couldn’t afford. You inhaled deeply as you straighten your back.

It’s fine, it sounds as if a new neighbor is just moving in. You were used to this, just continue forward.

“Oi! Could you not just dump everything into the entranceway? How am I supposed to get through?!” You could hear the shuffling of boxes.

“Most people would be grateful for the help. Especially, when the help-seeker is someone who has yet to pay five months' worth of rent.” A box was dropped onto the floor.

“I just told you to be careful! It’s fragile! And I was busy saving up to move, I’m sure me moving out is well worth the rent money.”

“Brilliant rebuttal. Is this the same explanation you give the bank when they call inquiring about your debt, Kaveh?”

“And this is why I cannot stand people like you!-”

Your fingers were pressing down with force on the keys, yet you couldn’t hear any melody over the theatrical bickering taking place in the hall. The inside of your cheek is currently being abused by the grating of your teeth. It appears that social etiquette is dead, killed by narrow-minded individual interests.

The two voices continued to bounce off the wall, more accurately it was mostly one thunderous voice followed by a deep tone dripping with sarcasm. Your ears weren’t even processing the words being thrown around, their focus all on the impending tinnitus developing.

You needed to bring a stop to this now, lest it develops into a regular performance. Your thighs pushed back the flimsy seat, lips deep in a frown. The flow was ruined.

Unlocking the deadbolt that detained the door, you looked straight ahead as the rusting hinges sang their chaos, ready to bring a stop to this public disturbance.

“Can you please keep your voices d-” Your sentence died at the tip of your tongue.

The sight in front of you stopped you dead between your doorway. The blond-haired man’s head snapped towards you, eyes slightly apologetic. However, his face wasn’t what you had set your sights on, no, it was the familiar face of the ashen-haired man. A face you haven’t seen for seven years, Alhaitham.

Those same disinterested teal eyes shifted their focus onto you, and it paralyzed every muscle.

The silence was deafening now, not a single inch was budged by anyone. Like a frozen snapshot in time. His gaze was heavy, it was suffocating so your eyes switched over to meet with rudy irises instead.

The blond man’s attention flickered back and forth between the two of you, taking note of how his companion’s eyes never left your frame. His lips pressed into an awkward line as his head slowly turned towards the boxes behind him, finally reading the room.

“I’m going to start tidying up.” The blond didn’t perceive the desperation sent his way by you as his figure disappeared behind a closed door.

Now it was just you and Alhaitham. Finally reunited after seven long years apart in a decrepit hallway. The gurgling of the aging pipes and shuffling of feet from floors above accompanied the scene. Your body was still frozen in the midst of emerging from your apartment, and his tall figure was still stationed right across the narrow hall.

What were the last words you said to him that day many years ago again?

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.”

A hand hidden behind your back clenched into a fist as you recalled that embarrassing memory. Sharp words directed toward a younger version of the man in front of you. Words birthed from irrationality and wounded pride.

Now your brain had once again latched on to this core memory, you were certainly going to be kicking your blankets tonight. What a mortifying souvenir of the past.

The past anger and frustrations were all but lingering smoke in your hair, your heart couldn’t recall the heat of how they burned the bridge down. They say time heals, and it's true.

The years apart had gradually soothed over the tender wounds on your ego. With the pain subsided your brain was clear enough to review the moments that lead to that outburst, and it made you die internally.

Should you just apologize right now? To alleviate the creeping guilt traveling up your shoulder, and so your poor blanket won’t be kicked as hard tonight. Can a small apology really travel across the full length of the seven-year-wide rift that had formed? Your lips stayed firmly shut, there was your answer.

Alhaitham took a step towards you, instinctively your body shuffled three more steps away, widening the berth between your bodies. His movement paused, teal eyes peering down at you as you looked at the space behind his head. No words were said.

This awkward scene was very reminiscent of your introduction to the ashen-haired man many years ago.

–

Your parents, esteemed researchers working for a renowned corporation, had moved into a new neighborhood. The house was much larger than your old home, large enough to house a grand piano in the living room.

“It’s about time you start learning the piano.” Were the orders your parents had given you, sitting your six-year-old self at the intimidating instrument.

On the same day you were introduced to your new duty, you were also introduced to the neighbor’s kid. The only other kid on the block filled with prominent academic figures from the nation’s top university. A grey-haired boy was standing by the side of the older lady, while you clung to your father’s slacks. The boy’s bored teal-eyed stare made you advert your eyes to your pretty shoes.

“This is Alhaitham, he is the same age as you. Say hello.” The stern hands of your father broke your grasp on his slacks and pushed you towards the boy named ‘Alhaitham’.

“Alhaitham, won’t you greet our new neighbor?” The older woman’s wrinkled but kind eyes motioned to your nervous frame.

“Hello.” Greeted a flat voice.

Your tiny hand found its way back to your father’s slacks, grip wrinkling it even more. You were physically unable to utter a single noise. After what felt like an eternity of staring at your shiny sneakers, your father’s hand tug you away. The adults were now having a small conversation, mostly your parents apologizing for your shyness and the older professor laughing the matter off.

“There is no need to apologize, children are fickle sometimes. But I hope that she and Alhaitham will get along. You are always welcome to visit, little one.” Her eyes peered at your restless form. You liked her eyes, they were warm.

That night you sat through a long lecture from your parents about your rudeness toward the grandma. All you could do was bow your head, back perfectly straight on the plush new sofa. You were sent to bed with no dinner that night, told to think about how your actions would reflect upon your parents.

–

The invasive memory triggered by this sudden reunion left a bitter taste on your tongue. The taste that you’ve purposefully been fleeing from all these years. Now with his presence so burdensome, it was dragging your thoughts down deeper. You needed to put a stop to this before your head disappears under the water.

So just like all those years ago, you disappeared from teal eyes. Not uttering a single greeting as the resounding click of your door was heard.

Exiting the automated glass doors, you could finally relax your shoulders. The sun was hanging in the sky this Wednesday evening, you were grateful that you were actually able to clock off work on time.

Your eyes scanned the unfamiliar buildings that decorated the landscape, all large and reaching towards the sky, light bouncing off polished windows. You were free to explore.

Your job required you to attend a meeting about some closing of a deal between the two companies. Thus, the reason why you were currently in the midst of the upscale business district of Sumeru City. Opposing the rundown sector you called home, the sidewalks here were leveled and free of fissures. Many of the trendy shops that lined the streets beckoned you closer to their displays.

With one glance over the price tags attached to the chic items your body instantly turned away. Of course, the prices in the yuppie part of the city would be out of your budget.

Walking further down the road, you let yourself enjoy the warm breeze of Sumeru against your stuffy blouse and pencil skirt. Your skin has finally thawed out after being in that overly air-conditioned conference room. Turning onto a quieter side street you walked past the tantalizing smells wafting from the small cafes.

The gig from last Saturday compensated you quite handsomely. Perhaps you could splurge a little, a reward for yourself securing a returning performance later this month.

One particular cafe caught your interest, it was a combination of a bookstore and a coffee shop. The blackboard sign placed outside listed the daily specialties, and for once the prices of the drinks weren’t outrageous.

A small bell chimed above your head, welcoming you inside. After placing your order, you decided to peruse through the selection of novels the shop had on display.

Most of the titles were of the new best sellers or latest academic papers. Your fingers brushed across the smooth covers, observing the different arts and fonts. It seems that you’ve wonder quite a bit down the rows, somehow ending up in a section filled with the simple cover illustrations of children’s books. You were far too old to enjoy such books now.

Just as you turned on your heel to head back up the aisle, a brilliant verdant cover catches your eye. ‘Oh, so it’s still in print’, you thought. The Giving Tree, the title of the first book you ever learned to read.

–

“Alhaitham is the same age as you, yet he’s reading scientific journals. You should learn from him.” Your mother’s eyes examined your round eyes looking back up at hers.

Your small frame deflated even smaller, the bright aura that had been radiating off of you dissipated like morning dew under the harsh sun.

Just earlier you had your first piano lesson, the piano teacher was so excited to tell your parents how much potential you had, and how filled with talent you were. Their words made you perk up on the bench, the instrument no longer felt as frightening.

The praise had left you in a good mood, so much so that you agreed to accompany your mother to the neighbor’s house. A book clutched in the hand that wasn’t held in your mother’s clammy grasp. You weren’t sure if you were in a good mood anymore.

The kind grandma led you to a small library where her grandson was, Alhaitham was curled up on the rug with a thick journal in his small hands. The thin children’s book in your hand paled in comparison.

“Now, now. Alhaitham is just very passionate about reading. Your daughter is at the normal age where children begin reading, perhaps she’ll also gain a fondness if they read together. I think they’ll have fun together.” The kind woman gestured for you into the room.

Your mother releases your hand, a cold look ushered you toward the empty spot next to the boy. Settling down on the other side of the rug, you glanced up quickly. She seemed satisfied.

The grandma soon led your mother to another part of the house, continuing their conversation. You turned toward the boy next to you, he was too focused on the text in front of him to bother greeting you.

Spirits a bit dejected, you opened the cover to your own thin book. It was your father that placed the book in your hands, telling you to start reading. As your eyes glossed over the figures that took up only a fraction of the page, you came across the obvious hurdle.

You don’t know how to read. No one had ever sat you on their lap and gone through this book with you, or any book really.

The illustrations and script on the page taunted you, calling you to decypher their meanings and symbols. The pages were quickly flipped through until you hit the back cover, then flipped through once more until you were back to the front.

A foolish attempt for a miracle, that if you flipped through the book fast enough, somehow those scribbles on the pages will make sense.

“Are you even reading?” Spoke a slightly irritated voice.

Oh, your loud turning must have distracted the boy from his reading. The flipping stopped, as you glanced at him seeing the disinterested eyes staring back, you looked away. The embarrassment this time compelled your mouth to speak.

“N-no… I don’t know how…” Cheeks burned from shame, you could already feel that familiar sting in your eyes. Oh no, if you cried then mom might frown again.

A sigh resounded beside you, Alhaitham shifted his body out of his comfortable position against his pillow. Oh no, is he getting up to tell mom about the dark secret you just spilled to him? You didn’t get him to promise he won’t tell, will he get you in trouble?

“Give it here.” An expecting hand reached out, palms open.

You blinked at the hand slowly, did he want the book in exchange for not telling? Obediently, you placed the small book into his hold. His teal eyes glance over the title quickly, before he lays the book open in the space between your two bodies. Your head tilted in confusion at his actions. But as soon as his tranquil voice read the word out loud, that confusion stopped.

“Mmm… I don’t like the boy.” You crossed your arms in front of your small body, round cheeks pushed out in a pout.

Alhaitham just finished reading the story to you, he ran his small finger along with each word he spoke so you could follow along as well. His eyes connected with yours inquisitively, waiting for you to continue.

“The nice tree gave him so much, and he never said ‘thank you’. And he left the tree alone for so long, the tree must have been so sad. He’s mean, a big meanie and… and…”

“Ungrateful.” Alhaitham finished your sentence.

“Un-un..grateful?” You titled your head again, the unfamiliar word felt weird on your tongue.

“Ungrateful. U-n-g-r-a-t-e-f-u-l. It means having no feelings of thanks, you can also say he’s selfish.” The boy answered your question before you could even ask it.

You pressed a finger against your lips, turning the newly learned vocabulary in your head. Yeah, those words fit the boy in the story very well. Ungrateful and selfish. You looked back at the boy sitting next to you, a smile stretched your chubby cheeks. The grandma was right, reading with him was fun.

“You’re really smart.” You beamed at him.

“That means nothing to me.” He huffed, turning his face away.

You could spy with your little eyes the red tint on the tips of his ears that peeked out from his ash-colored hair.

“Hehe, and you’re funny too.” For the first time in a while, you giggled.

–

What a bittersweet memory, like the fragrance of the different brews traveling throughout the small shop. Yet, the nostalgia brought a small curl to your lips. You turned away from the book, only to flinch at what your eyes saw next.

The boy from your memories is now a man standing adjacently. You must’ve been too lost in thought to notice his towering stature.

After that tense reunion in the hallway, thankfully Alhaitham didn’t decide to knock on your door. Not that you would’ve answered anyways. He probably had already predicted your actions, and thus saved himself the time.

He was dressed in a suit and but the tie was loose around his neck, he must’ve just gotten off of work. The path back to the coffee bar was just slightly blocked by his wide frame, you had to get past him.

Teal-orange eyes converged with your stare, ah it’s too late to try and sneak past now. Alhaitham acknowledges your presence with a slight nod of his head, expression blank and unreadable. Once again you didn’t say a single greeting.

As if a merciful archon had been watching this pathetic interaction, an opportunity for escape was granted in the form of the barista calling out your name.

“Excuse me.” Was all you could muster, hastily striding past him, body pressed against the selves so as to not brush against him.

Before you the bell at the front chimed again to signal your departure, you made sure to leave some extra mora, more than the necessary amount. Done in silent gratitude towards the unsung hero of a barista.

It was now the last Saturday of the month, meaning it was time for your return performance. In your bathroom mirror, you smoothed out any stray hairs, straightening out your black performance garb.

A sacred ritual to slow the beating of your jumping heart. It’s a bit silly to admit, but no matter how many times you’ve performed, your nerves always went haywire. A terrible habit that made its way to adulthood.

The tavern you were performing at was quite a popular joint among the locals of Sumeru City. The nice wooden and homey interior gave many city dwellers their taste of nature in a progressing world. A grand piano was tucked away in a clear corner of the establishment, a ring of tables enclosed the area into a stage of sorts.

Pushing through the intricately carved doors, you entered Lambad’s Tavern eyes surveying the audience for this Saturday night. There were some tables still empty, awaiting the future stream of guests. Chatter quietly reverberated through the serene scene for now.

The atmosphere can get a bit rowdy as more and more alcohol ran through the systems of patrons. In a way, it was perfect for you, a perfect stepping stone in your slow climb.

Checking in with the manager at the front, you got the thumbs up to start setting up for your show. An agreement had been reached earlier this month that you would be playing the piano for three hours, three hours of having the privilege to play on a grand piano again. Not on the electronic imitation of your keyboard. Eager hands glided their soft touch along the smooth keys.

Yes, nothing can truly capture the beauty of the grand piano’s voice, not even the CDs you set up on a table nearby. Recordings with a mixed tracklist of classical pieces and original compositions, just like your setlist for tonight.

Lifting up the fallboard, you set the sheets against the music stand. Not that you needed them. Every note, every rest, and every change in tempo memorized in your fingers. Taking a deep breath, your eyes did one final scan around the room. Most tables were too emersed in their own conversations to take note of you.

Rubbing your fingers together to grind out the tremble of your nerves before you shut your eyes. In the darkness quiet darkness of your mind, your fingers moved into their positions over the keys. Erik Satie’s Je te veux resonated with the muddled conversations of the audience, adding to the serene air.

You’ve always closed your eyes when performing, a trait that has embedded itself from the start of your music career. The darkness of your mind offered a reprieve from the critical eyes of judges and parents during recitals and competitions.

You first stepped into this safe haven around the time of your first recital at the age of eight.

–

It’s been a few months since you first began your piano lessons, and your teacher was eager to announce your first recital. They had a sparkle in their eyes, keen to show off their most talented disciple.

They had discovered an unpolished diamond among the mediocre ruff, a young naturally blessed child. Your lips were kept sealed about the long hours your parents forced you to sit in front of the piano after each weekly lesson.

Before you only ever played under the watchful gaze of either your parents or teacher, not an audience of strangers. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified.

“I can’t do it.” You retracted your hands from the piano once again, as if the keys were scorching you.

“You said you wanted to play the piano for me.” The young boy beside you huffed out, annoyed at your actions. You had repeated these steps five times now.

“I know! But I’m… scared…” Your posture deflated.

“If you can’t play in front of one person, how can you play for a crowd?” Alhaitham’s disinterested eyes crept back to the book he had placed beside him, you had dragged him away from his reading for this.

“I don’t know…” A frown pulled at your face, eyes feeling the incoming burn. You didn’t want to cry in front of him.

There was a tense moment of nothingness between the two of you. The boy quietly observed the paper propped up against the music stand.

“Do you know how to play this piece?” His flat voice broke the suspense.

“Yes I do! I’ve been practicing this every day, I can even do it with my eyes closed.” You huffed in disbelief at his accusation.

“Then do that. Just play with your eyes closed.” He retorted as if it was the most obvious statement in the world.

Which in truth, it was the most obvious statement in the world. You’ve been practicing Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen since the beginning of the month every day for six hours a day. The rhythm and keys were ingrained into your fingers by the second week.

The solution was so plain and simple, why didn’t you think of it? Your parents were right, you are always a few steps behind the brilliant boy.

An embarrassed flush covered your round cheeks. Suddenly his stare was heavy, heavier than the ones from your parents and teacher. The muscles in your finger felt tense. Your young mind could tell that if this continued then the tune embedded in your hands wouldn’t come out at all.

“Can you not look?” A quiet plead.

“I thought you wanted me to watch.” A grey brow was raised.

“I know… But…” Around him, you couldn’t seem to finish your sentences.

“Fine.” Deciding that prying further would be a wasted effort, Alhaitham turned his short body around on the bench so that his back faced the piano instead. Cracking open his thick book back to the page he had left off on.

“I don’t need to look at you to hear you play anyways.” The young boy’s eyes returned back to their place among the text.

Sitting back up straight again, shoulder back and hands into position. You took a deep breath and entered the darkness behind your eyelids. This time your fingers guided you through the moment, and the piano sang out its melodies.

–

Coincidentally, Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen just so happened to be ending right now as the memory finished its course. You had transitioned into the piece some time ago, finishing five out of the many on your three-hour setlist. It was right about time for a small break.

As your eyelids lifted a few soft claps reached your ears, from the growing chatter it seems that more customers had funneled into the tavern.

The manager of the tavern was a very generous man, so much so that he offers you a complimentary drink you could claim during each of your breaks. You would be a fool to turn down such an offer, but you reminded yourself that you need to maintain a certain level of sobriety. For the sake of your performance.

The sweet wine felt divine running down your parched throat. The alcohol did wonders in mellowing out your racing thoughts as you returned back to your place at the piano. Just like before, you did a small survey of your surroundings. Big mistake, for your mind kicked into overdrive when locking gazes with teal eyes.

‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’.

A superstition you should really be more mindful of. Shifting your body towards the piano, you ended the impromptu staring contest. Ah, what song were you supposed to play now? Thoughts scrambled as you can still feel the heaviness of Alhaitham’s gaze on your back. ‘Just play’ you internally scolded.

Letting your fingers take over the piano, retreating back into the comforting blackness.

“Who was that?” Kaveh creaked open the door to his new apartment, inquiring his now former roommate about the scene that unraveled moments before.

Alhaitham observed the heavy metal frame that closed you off from him once more. This was certainly an unexpected surprise. It’s been seven years since he last hear your voice. Seven years since you marched forth on a path carved by your own grit and resoluteness.

Many things have changed these seven years.

Who are you?

Eyes still following the cracks of the paint running up your door, the ashen-haired man’s mind recounted a scene from long ago.

–

It’s been a few months since you first moved into this neighborhood, taking Alhaitham’s title of ‘only kid on the block’ away. During your first introduction, you wouldn’t even greet him constantly tugging on your father’s pant leg and staring at your feet.

Now you wouldn’t stop greeting him. After lunch, almost like clockwork, there would be a knock at his front door. Disrupting his precious reading time. You’d be there on the other side with a new book for him to read to you, or you’d bounce on the heels of your feet inviting him to hear your piano.

Today, it was the latter. Alhaitham had his back facing the piano, the position that made you the most comfortable. A book was open in his lap, but his mind was busy pondering a mystery to pay attention to it or to the tune you were playing. Grandma said it wasn’t good to hold in questions, lest they consume the curious mind. Best to get answers from the source of the mystery.

“Why do you seek me out?” His flat voice interfered with the sharp notes.

“Huh?” You turned to him perplexed, fingers now hovering over the keys.

“Are we friends?” He asked directly, it’s good to be straightforward.

“Of course we’re friends! Even if you’re a bookworm, you’re still a precious friend of mine.” Chest puffed up at your bold declaration.

“If I am a bookworm, it’s only appropriate to call you an earworm.”

“E-earworm? There are worms that live in the ear??”

“No, it’s just a figure of speech. Earworm refers to a tone or melody that repeats constantly in the mind.”

“Ooh. Earworm…” You pondered the term for a bit before another splitting smile spread across your face.

“Yes! You’re a bookworm and I’m an earworm.” A finger was directed at him then back at yourself, giggling.

Strangely, the young boy felt a tickle at the back of his throat, as if your laughter was contagious like a cold. He decided to hold it back in favor of observing your expression for a bit longer.

“Oh!” You jumped up from the bench, reaching into the shiny pencil case you kept close to the piano.

Pulling out a bold black marker you uncapped the tool before climbing onto the bench, the extra height allowing you to maneuver the top half of your body into the body of the piano.

Now it was his turn to be bewildered, quickly snapping his eyes towards the entrance of the living room, watching out for signs of your parents. Soon you reemerged from the instrument, capping the marker with a proud look in your eyes.

“There, now there’s solid proof of our friendship.”

Alhaitham peers into the piano, observing the words clumsily written along the wooden shell:

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

“Why am I before you? It’s your piano isn’t it?”

“Well ‘B’ comes before ‘E’.” You puffed out your cheek at his lackluster response to your heartfelt gesture.

For the first time ever in front of you, Alhaitham let an obvious smile appear on his face.

–

What a bittersweet term. Friends. Yes, the two of you were once friends long ago. Close friends who morphed into strangers. The catalyst for this change? With each new stage of life, branching paths will appear, the parting of ways is just a natural phenomenon.

He is Alhaitham and you are you. Separate individuals with separate lives on separate paths.

“Just someone I used to know.” Came his candid answer.

“Right.” Kaveh rolled his eyes, clearly displeased at how the ashen-haired man won’t give his question an actual response.

Alhaitham removed his eyes from your door, picking the cardboard box back off the tiled hallway. Kaveh didn’t need to know the specifics, the precious details shall forever make their home in a safe corner of his mind.

Alhaitham exited the ornate doors of the office building. Currently, it was the closing quarter, meaning the office has been more bothersome than usual. Even with his perfected front of acting busy, more and more troublesome characters have been strolling into his office. It’s irrelevant now, for the secretary is now off the clock.

The sun was still in the sky, perfect weather to grab a bit to eat from a local coffee shop. It’s been a week since he last picked up a new book as well, there was one place that came to mind that would allow the man to kill two birds with one stone. Long legs walked with swift strides towards his destination.

Even will his earphones in, Alhaitham could still hear the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. In Sumeru City this was expected, construction, traffic, and pedestrians, everything thing muddled together in noisy inference with his thoughts. He turns up the volume.

Opening the door to the cafe, the bell sounded his arrival. The usual barista was there at the counter. With a quick glance up the barista instinctively placed his order, a testament to just how often the ashen-haired man frequents this place. Good, this saves him the trouble.

Without pausing his music, Alhaitham began pursuing the nonfiction section of the small shop. There were a few new scientific journals that have been published, maybe he’ll give them a read.

Although his ears were currently occupied, that doesn’t mean his other senses were dulled. He could feel the weight of someone’s gaze upon his back. Usually, the man would simply brush such occurrences off. But there was this small nag coming from a corner of his mind. This could be a result of a brain being bored by a day’s worth of paperwork. He’ll indulge his curiosity.

Returning the weight of the gaze back to the mysterious source he felt his jaw clench just a bit. There you were again, staring at him with your lips pressed together tensely. Your wide eyes were very reminiscent of a spooked songbird. Everything about your body language read startled and for flight.

This time, Alhaitham doesn’t encroach, he simply nodded his head in a small greeting. It seems even this small action sparked you to flee. You mouthed something before quickly strolling past him.

Shamelessly, his teal eyes followed your path as you paid for your coffee and disappeared out of sight from the shop windows. Yes, his statement that these seven years have brought about much change was correct. It wasn’t like this before.

–

“Alhaitham, why are you reading here?” His grandma inquired about the reason behind her grandson situating himself at the window nook instead of inside the library.

“I just wanted to enjoy the sunlight.” Came his crafted response.

From this small nook, the window gave a clear view of the front steps and the path that led to the house just across the street. The older woman took note of this, kind eyes giving the young boy a knowing look and smile. You had begun attending the local school.

Meanwhile, Alhaitham adamantly wanted to stay home and self-study instead. Stating that all the material the school covered he already knew. The old lady didn’t raise any objections to her grandson’s decision.

“If you go over to her house remember to be polite, and inform me before you do.” A wrinkled hand tussled through his soft ashen locks.

“There’s no need. I’m just sitting here to read.” He leaned into his grandma’s touch.

“Of course, of course. Then I shall make use of this afternoon to review some material. Remember what I said.”

“Yes, grandma.” Came his reply.

With that, Alhaitham was left to his own thoughts by the window. He didn’t really know why he felt the pull to sit by the window. Was it to get a glimpse of you? The neighbor’s daughter?

You and he were the only two kids on the block, so it wasn’t surprising you would often seek out his company. A friendship formed by virtue of close proximity. However, now you were attending classes filled with other kids your age. His company would sooner or later fade into obscurity.

Alhaitham has always been very attuned to the situation around him, displaying a level of maturity and insight way beyond his years. Perhaps he still retains some semblance of that childish essence. Demonstrated by his current position, the book in his lap only held half of his attention, the other wondering out the clear glass.

What is he hoping for realistically? Others can provide you much livelier company than he ever could, and yet he still-

The boy puts down the book, short legs pattering across the wooden floor swiftly carrying his body to the door. Small hands turned the cold brass before he channeled all his strength into prying the wooden mass from the frame.

Revealing your bewildered face, hand frozen in its position ready to knock on the now open door. Once your eyes met, it wasn’t long before a smile replaced your expression.

“Hi, Haitham! Wanna hear me play today?”

–

Yes, that was how things used to be. Even as your social circle grew, even as new families moved in, you’d still appear back in front of him. Beaming that smile he lost the privilege to see. Like a songbird that returned every day to sing in front of his window as the solitary child read.

Alhaitham’s eyes found themselves locked once more on a door, the one you had rushed out of not so long ago. There was a weight pulling down on the corners of his mouth. He entered Sumeru’s education system during high school. Missing the crucial formative years previously where cliques and social labels were formed, he stood alone as a loner.

But You always rushed towards him through crowded halls and rooms. Breaking away amidst your social circle from orchestra and band. Just to tap him on the shoulder and eat lunch together in the sanctuary of a private practice room that housed the school’s piano.

These repetitive memories plaguing him brought a bitter taste to his coffee. Perhaps it was the dreadful combination of sweet memory and awareness of the current state of affairs.

Finally, the end of the month has come. Meaning things at work have sorted themselves out, at least for another three months. In lieu of attending an actual company-sponsored dinner, Alhaitham decides to get a drink at the local tavern.

Company dinners were noisy, filled with black ties and white lies. Too troublesome. However, recently his mind has been filling the silence of his house with redundant thoughts.

A drink from time to time is a good way to destress and quell the mind, Alhaitham reasons as he enters the establishment. Lambad’s Tavern was a local joint that provides a small solace from the rambunctious city streets. A place the man likes to visit on occasion, usually when an invitation was extended.

From the moment he entered through the doors, he could hear a piano ending its cords. It seems that there was live music tonight. Usually, it was nice to have background music accompany the chatter of the other patrons. But why a piano of all choices tonight? Alhaitham takes a deep breath before letting out a small sigh, it’s as if a ghost of the past is haunting him.

Placing an order for a bottle of wine to be delivered to a secluded area, Alhaitham makes his way to the usual table. His body maneuvered through the sea of flushed face patrons, and the sight of the grand piano came into view.

The bench by the instrument was empty, perhaps his mind really is just conjuring up a ghost. Regardless, once the wine comes these thoughts will settle.

“Your wine.” The alcohol was set down.

“Thank you.” Alhaitham swirls the glass a bit before taking a sip.

His bored eyes began to wander once more, looking for anything to bide the time with, unsurprisingly they were beckoned towards the piano. Only this, time it was no longer empty. No, this time it was no ghost invented by a bored mind, it was you. He stiffly swallowed down the wine.

He wasn’t subtle nor careful with how obviously he was staring, thinking too occupied by astonishment. This must have tipped you off, as once again your wide-eyed gaze connected with his heavy one. You made that tense face again. You broke away, tightly shutting your eyes before your fingers hit the keys, making the piano sing.

‘Oh, so you still closed your eyes when you played’. Alhaitham found a strange satisfaction in this fact as if he found comfort in the one constant he still knew about you. Arms and fingers moved fluidly, a sight he used to not be able to see out of respect for you.

–

Your parents were busy with their research, and his grandmother had her hands full with academic responsibilities. It was only Alhaitham who had the time, a resource only abundant in youth, to attend your recitals and concerts.

As the crowd and the judges bored holes into your figure up on stage, the young man kept his eyes peeled on the book in front of him.

The young man didn’t mind attending these events, the audience was mostly silent save for the occasional applause. After so many years and lunches spent by your side at the piano, his ears have gotten used to the melodic accompaniment to his reading.

The final chords of your performance reverberated throughout the air, followed by the rolling clapping of hands.

He lifted his attention up to the stage. Although it’s ironic how the only time you wanted him to watch your performance was at the end, he’ll respect your wishes. From the brightly lit stage, you were finishing your bow, and as your head rises your eyes connected with his. A beaming smile was directed at him.

Was it you or the stage lights that stung his eyes?

“How’d you think I did, Haitham?” Was the first thing out of your lips after rejoining him.

The concert hall had emptied out some time ago, and Alhaitham had been waiting by the backstage door to walk home with you. You held a thick folder against the front of your formal black gown, a bounce in your ballet flat steps. Alhaitham pretended to contemplate his answer.

“I’m not well versed in acoustics nor how to judge music, so I don’t see how my opinion would matter.” Came his flat reply.

“Haitham, you listened to me play for years. How have you not learned a thing?” You pouted, just like how he predicted.

The young man gave you a simple shrug. Of course, he found your performance exceptional, he was there for the hours of practice you put in.

“Whatever, now that it’s over. I can start looking at the piece the conductor wanted me to accompany for the school’s orchestra. Ahh, I only have three weeks to practice.” You made a face as you dug through the thick folder as the two of you continued to walk.

He only hummed in response, shifting his focus back to his book. It was the sweet Sumeru Spring of your third year of high school, the perfect for a serene walk home.

Over the top of the pages, his teal eyes could see your lips press into a crooked line, desperately trying to suppress your snickers as you sightread the notes on the sheet.

“Is that a piece by Debussy?”

“Huh? How’d ya know, Haitham?”

You were easy to read. After knowing you for over a decade now, you were like an open book to him. The journal hides his small smile from your sight.

–

The memory reminded him to advert his eyes, focusing back on the glass of wine in front of him. He came here for a drink, he should follow through with his plan. The wine quickly vanished as Alhaitham signed for another. It took an impressive amount of willpower for his eyes to not wander back, he won’t let them.

Your small performance had come to an end, sounded by the closing of the fallboard and how the bench dragged against the floor. He knew you were bowing to show thanks to the audience, yet he still refused to look. From your earlier actions, it was blatant that you despised his presence.

So even as your figure passed by his table, Alhaitham refused to allow you into his line of sight.

It’s been an hour since you left the establishment in a rush, and Alhaitham had run up quite the tab now, best to call it a night. Tossing some mora onto the table, the ashen-haired man stands up ready to begin the taxis ride back.

The effects of the alcohol must have made his eyes wander back to the piano, a fruitless attempt to watch one last glimpse. And a glimpse they found, in the form of a CD you had carelessly left behind.

You had abandoned it, thus it was now free for the taking.

It was unlike the stoic man to order rounds after rounds of wine, but he needed something to busy himself with. Just as how you were busy with the piano, he needed the alcohol to quell undesirable impulses. However, as his unsteady steps made it up the front porch, he was chastising himself for that decision. A hangover was guaranteed in the morning.

Roughly slamming the door shut behind him, Alhaitham entered the asylum of his home. The newfound stillness of the house was usually a luxury the ashen-haired man indulged in. However, at the moment it was a tribulation, for his noisy thoughts filled the silence. Its volume only exacerbated by the alcohol in his system.

When he was younger, Alhaitham naively thought the knowledge gained from academic journals was equivalent to experience. After all, he had just read about another person’s experiences, he could pinpoint their flaws and learn from their mistakes so as to not repeat them.

Just like the knowledge obtained from his books, he assumed that you too shall always remain in his possession, you shall always stay by his side. Of course, only a naive teenager, no, only a naive child would think this way.

Did you know that the downfall of many great kings, heroes, and gods was their hubris? Excess self-confidence blinds their vision. Excess confidence only a naive child would have, believing he could analyze everything.

Oh, how life works in mysterious ways, finding lessons to humble such egos. Alhaitham, against his will, reminisces about the event that taught him a valuable lesson in the noisy silence of his house.

–

“Haitham, I can’t believe they did it.” You were curled up on the couch of his grandmother’s home, tears streaming down your face.

“They sold my piano, Haitham. They sold it because they wanted me to get over this ‘hobby’. Hypocrites, as if they weren’t the ones who forced me to practice hours a day since I was a kid.”

Alhaitham said nothing, silently holding the tissue box out to you. The pair of you had just returned from school just a few hours earlier, bidding goodbye before returning to your respective houses. However, just an hour ago his quiet reading was disrupted by frantic pounding on the front door. He had opened it to your tear-stained face.

“How could they instill in me a passion for all my life, but when I want to continue with it as a career, they do their damnedest to snuff it out?” You were furiously wiping your eyes with the back of your hands.

Oh, so that’s what happened. Alhaitham had already seen this coming, knowing how your parents were, it was predictable. They had valid reasons for not wanting their daughter to pursue such a career path.

You still had stage fright, constantly telling him to not look at you when you played. How would you make a living like this? He analyzed the statistics and figures before he comes to his own conclusion.

There was no reason that you couldn’t balance a stable career with your passion for piano. In Sumeru, they had one of the most progressive work cultures of all of Teyvat. There were generous amounts of paid time off, sick days, and reasonable hours. You had more than enough time for music.

He decides to share his conclusion with you.

“Music should stay a hobby. Even graduates from the most prestigious music universities aren’t guaranteed a career. To be frank, it’s better if you pursue a degree that leads to a steadfast position. Of course, be firm in your boundaries so that you can have the time for piano.”

The room fell silent, your wide eyes stared into his calm teal ones. A heavy hush hung in the air as the grandfather clock continued to tick away, until it rang, signaling the change in the air. After the last resonance of its chime faded, you let out a laugh, but there was no joy in your voice.

“Of course… Why did I think you’d be different? This is why they love you.” Your tone was dry as your shoulders shook, eyes now trained on the floor.

“Look at Alhaitham, what a level-headed guy he is, you should learn from him. Look at his grades, why can’t you be top of the class? He’s so talented and good at everything, what can you do? Why can’t you be more like Alhaitham?” You spat out his name as if it was poisonous.

“Comparison is the thief of joy, you shouldn’t-” Alhaitham needed to de-escalate this crescendo.

“If only you were born their son… Then I wouldn’t have suffered.” More tears fell from your eyes as you stumbled off the couch.

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.”

Alhaitham once believed that words, which have no physical form, couldn’t hurt him. The stab in his chest from an unseen force dismissed that notion.

Your burning eyes reconnected with his gaze. He knew that look, he’s seen it many times. Jealousy, anger, and hatred. They were familiar emotions that others cast his way, yet he found himself taken aback. You’ve never looked at him like this before… Have you?

Before he could utter another word, you stormed off. All the young man could do was watch the back of your figure as it disappeared from sight.

–

There was a firm frown now on Alhaitham’s lips and a furrow between his brows. He wanted this horrible play to end, for his brain to stop showing him events that have already passed. It’s always one’s own mind that can show the most cruelty to itself.

–

It’s been a month since you’ve last spoken to him. Taking long about ways to school so as to avoid crossing paths with him, your lunches were spent locked in private practice rooms.

Young Alhaitham had a whole month to analyze and reanalyze at which moment everything fell apart. After much deliberation, he concluded that he made a miscalculation. He overstepped his boundaries.

In the end, it was your life, you should be the one to decide how you will live it. His unsolicited suggestion was wholly unnecessary. He knew an apology was needed.

However, he could read from your actions that you weren’t ready to talk to him just yet. It wouldn’t be wise to approach you, lest you look at him again with those eyes. That’s fine, he can wait until you came to him. Alhaitham bided his time with more books. Was reading without music always this lonely?

It was the day of your graduation. From within the sea of celebratory gowns and cheering students, teal eyes honed in on your figure. You were intentionally avoiding his gaze, instead going to congratulate and talk to fellow musicians and classmates. His hand balled up into a fist before he unclenched it. It’s fine, you need more time, and he’ll respect that.

It’s the least he could do. Either way, the two of you had the whole Summer to make up before university started.

Another miscalculation on his part.

Alhaitham recalls the panicked ringing of his doorbell, but instead of you, the door opened to reveal your parents. You were gone. Your phone was left behind, important documents missing from filing cabinets, and a bag full of belongings gone. You’ve vanished, the only explanation they got was a note:

“Don’t Bother Me”.

You’ve already become a legal adult, how could the Matra have any justification to drag you back?

That whole hellish Sumeru Summer Alhaitham read at the nook located by the front door. For that whole Summer, the young man answered any number that flashed on his screen. He knew that you had limited money, after your pitiful savings dried up you were bound to return. If not to your house, then at least to this haven.

Your voice was never on the other side.

Laughably, it took the prodigy Alhaitham an entire Summer to finally come to terms with the facts of the matter. The songbird had left its tarnished cage, and it will never return. He started university without you by his side.

–

Grey lashes fluttered open as the play finally ends. Memories that once looped like a broken record in his mind. With time this memory became a softer hum to his thoughts. An earworm that burrowed deep within so as to remind him of his past shortcomings.

Yes, his past mistakes made him aware of his limited human vision. That he did in fact not know everything. The series of errors that strayed you away from him. Humans weren’t books, they’re not as easy to decipher as scripts on a page. The growing pains of maturing. A lesson he has learned well.

Once was an accident, twice is a coincidence, and the third time… a chance. Alhaitham doesn’t believe in gods or fate, but he does believe in opportunity.

Teal eyes made their way to the CD left on top of a polished ivory top. This time, he shall turn around and chase after the ghost, to return to her what was rightfully hers.

If these occurrences were bound to happen more often, then it’s best for you to catch up with the seven-year backlog of information. Of course, instead of consulting the primary source for the much-needed answers, you turned to a secondary source instead. You are nothing, if not a coward.

Hence why on this warm Thursday night you were out at the local bar, wallet getting emptied by the blond slumped next to you.

“Ugh, that man was a tyrant. Leaving books everywhere, letting dust just pile up, and every other sentence had to be a snide remark.” Kaveh finishes another glass, another cry from your wallet.

You were still nursing your second glass while Kaveh’s got a scarlet glow already. A part of you regrets inviting your hall neighbor out, but you appreciated the wealth of information he spilled out once a drop of liquor hit his tongue.

Currently, Alhaitham is employed at the top company in Sumeru city. he’s the secretary but quickly raising up the ranks. He also owns his own house in a rich suburb, one he used to share with the drunk man beside you, but now it only houses himself.

“Not only that but every week like clockwork that apathetic bastard would bring home the ugliest furniture. He once brought home an old piano. It took up so much space and clashed against the dark wood of the house! He wouldn’t even try to arrange them, he messed up the feng shui! He can’t even play! What was it for then?!”

Ah, you can see why the architect was willing to move into the lackluster apartment, he was desperate the spare his blood pressure. You don’t blame him, in fact hearing about your former friend’s spending habits brought a sour aftertaste to your wine.

Oh, how nice it must be to have such financial freedom.

“Then whenever I make a polite suggestion that he try to consider aesthetics, his response? ‘It is my life, my house, and my money. Suggestions from others are irrelevant and should be ignored. I’m guessing such philosophies are difficult to uphold for designers who must bend to their client’s will.’ Can you believe how insufferable he is?”

“Hypocrite.” That word rolled bitterly off your tongue, a past dialogue resurfacing from the back of your mind.

The blond’s hazy eyes peered at your inquisitively. Then his drunken mind sparks a thought: Why were you asking about Alhaitham? He also remembers that he had unanswered questions as well.

“By the way, what is your relation to that detached man?”

“Just a nobody who got compared to his brilliance.”

That doesn’t satisfy his question at all.

“Not this game again. Seriously, just what went down between the two of-”

“For a person who prides himself on his empathy, you sure are oblivious to the discomfort you’re causing. Prying for details that don’t concern you.” A deep voice from behind made your skin prickle.

Why was he here?

You didn’t need to look to feel the heavy weight of his teal eyes, boring holes into your stiff frame. The wine tasted awful now. It’s rude to ditch the guest that you had invited out, but you needed to get out of here before bile begins to taint your palette.

Quickly signaling for the tab, you didn’t even comprehend the number before you slammed down a bunch of mora.

“I’ll leave first. It was nice drinking with you, Kaveh. Let’s do this again sometime.” An excuse and lie.

“Hey, wait-” The blond lifted up his hand.

“I’ll walk you home. It’s quite dangerous this time of night around here.” Alhaitham’s body turned to follow you. Ah, he’s pointing out how shit your neighborhood was, isn’t he.

“Oi! Stop interrupting your senior-”

Alhaitham tosses an extra handful of mora onto the table. Kaveh was nearly shaking with rage, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of another few glasses of wine.

You were taking exaggerated strides across the uneven concrete, trying to put some distance between you. However, your legs were no match for the towering man’s steps, as it wasn’t before long until he caught up.

The clicking of your shoes and the thumps of his steps filled the tense silence. You refused to meet his gaze. But the thoughts racing through your mind needed answers, in particular, why is he haunting you now of all times?

“Why are you here?” You punched in the code for the entrance of the complex.

“I was looking for you. It just so happens that I spotted you through the window of the bar.”

There was an annoyed twitch at your eyebrow. He is not aware of how creepy he sounded right now?

You swiftly pulled the heavy door open and tried to slam it behind you, to create a barrier. However, Alhaitham’s foot was just a bit faster. His tall figure continued to loom behind you as you ascended the stairs.

“I have a reason to seek you.”

“Oh? Then pray tell, why a young professional would follow a woman to her home.” Keys fumbling to fit into the loose door handle.

“I took a CD. I’m no thief, and I believe that a musician should be fairly compensated for her work.” Came his flat reply.

That’s it? You already had a terrible week at work, becoming the scapegoat for the incompetency of managers. Now, his presence was only exacerbating the negativity flowing through you. Maybe the heat of the fire hasn’t been completely forgotten. You don’t want his money, you don’t want his pity.

For the first time, you whipped around intentionally staring straight into his teal-orange irises. You don’t need his money nor pity. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was the mounting stress on your shoulders or a damning combination of both.

You wanted to wipe that indifferent look off his handsome face, you couldn’t stand it.

Alhaitham’s lips parted ready to continue the transaction, only to be interrupted by the crashing of another on his. Your fingers were tangled in the collar of his shirt, wrinkling the crisp fabric. Your burning stare never left his slightly raised eyes, wanting to observe anything hint of human emotion.

Shock? Disgust? Fury? You’d take anything over his infuriatingly stoic face.

Instead of shoving you off like you inferred, Alhaitham slowly lowers his eyelids. Parting his lips even more as if to grant more access, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. These actions only irked you more.

This wasn’t your first kiss with him, the first time happened while two friends were sitting by a piano, heads turning to face each other too fast. An accidental brushing of lips. It irked you that the mushy feeling from that day was currently making its grand return.

Breaking away to allow oxygen back into your burning lungs, a thin strand of saliva trailing between. You were panting as his eyes reconnected with yours, something else was swimming behind those impartial irises. Too bad you were too impatient to decipher it, as you pulled his face back down.

Back pushing the rusty apartment door ajar. Two bodies disappeared behind the awful singing of its hinges.

–

For once, you woke up before the screeching of your phone. The sun was just barely peeking through the blinds. A muscular arm was draped over your bare torso, sheets still a bit damp from sweat. You knew that smell currently suffocating you in the room. You just slept with your former friend.

Your hand itched to slap your face. Idiot, you avoided him for all this time just to welcome him into your bed.

Stealthily shimming your body out of bed, you could feel the slight wobble of your legs. Of course, he’s good at sex, he’s good at everything. You cast a quick glance at his slumbering form. Teal eyes were still hidden behind closed lids. Good, he’s not awake.

Like a thief in your own home, you toed around the clothes scattered across the floor, careful to avoid the creaky wooden planks you’ve memorized.

Swiftly grabbing a random assortment of items out of your closet, you deemed the outfit professional enough for work. Trying to glide across the cluttered apartment like a ghost, you put on your heels, ready for the walk of shame away from your apartment. At least your gym membership will see some use now, a shower would be great to wash the shame and guilt off.

It’s not like you had anything worth stealing. Grabbing your bag off the table, you exited the scene of the crime. Hinges announcing your departure.

If the you from a few months ago saw what the reunion of friends had morphed into, she’d probably keel over in shock. Can you even call yourselves friends anymore?

The next Saturday following that incident, you had finished up another gig at Lambad’s Tavern. An all too familiar face made his way up to the piano. Browsing through the selection of CDs you still had on display.

“I’ll take this one.” Alhaitham held the smooth plastic in one hand, as his other reached for his wallet.

You gestured for him to stop. Crossing your arms in front of your body as if soothing your nerves. Pride still too great to accept his money, a resource he seems to have in excess. Just earlier in the day, after reaching the second round in the audition, the proctor thanked you for your time and lead you to the exit. Another failed attempt to join an orchestra.

You knew that returning to your cramped abode will only lead you to wallow in misery with a cheap bottle of liquor.

“You can come over. I’ll take it as compensation.”

How would you define this relationship? Friends with benefits? But the two of you were ex-friends, so that wouldn’t really make sense. Regardless, you knew what you wanted. To forget the sting of failure through pleasure. You turned your head to face him, awaiting his reply. An attentive stare was the silent confirmation you needed.

Does he think you’re easy or desperate? You didn’t particularly care for his opinion anymore. Alhaitham was currently kneeling by the side of your mused bed, he was here to ‘compensate’ you, and compensate he will. Your thighs were firmly held in his large hands, spreading them apart granting him access to the honeypot he seeks.

His hot tongue lapped at your slick folds, parting the labia and collecting your slick. Making sure to end the journey with a small flick to the little nub on top, before the wet muscle traveled back down. The noise was sinfully melodic. Your legs were straining against his hold, instinctively wanting to close in on his face, but his strength far surpasses yours. So instead, you pressed your lips into the back of your hand. Denying him the privilege to hear your moans.

This must’ve displeased him greatly, as the next thing you knew he broke from his steady tempo, and his soft lips enclosed around your sensitive clit. Alhaitham’s tongue was now accompanied by the suction of his mouth, torturing your poor little bundle. Slurping and sloppy wet flicks bounced off the thin walls. Hot flashes shot up your legs as your toes curled, a moan was fighting its way past your teeth.

He changed his pace once more. Now intertwining deep laps of your leaking hole with the overwhelming attention on your now swollen clit. Your honey was dripping down his chin as he continued his efforts. Your legs were trembling now, unable to give any resistance against his domineering hold. Thus, allowing him to slip one hand between, two long fingers stretching out your gummy walls. Prodding their way through the tight warm hole, mapping out their way to that special spongey patch.

Your teeth wouldn’t hold back the moan any longer. Back arching off the messy sheets, the internal and external pleasure created a maddening duo, pushing your sanity off the edge. Your vision when white was your body shook, nonsense babbling out of your lips. Alhaitham gave your pulsing clit a few more slick licks before pressing a sweet kiss against it.

His towering frame got up from the floor to loom over your recovering body. Teal eyes observing every twitch and shiver of your sloppy face. Soon his face descended closer, this time you were the quick one. Snapping your head to the side. Denying him a kiss, lest those mushy emotions bubble up during this moment. Alhaitham stills, he says nothing, just letting his warm breath fan across your face.

He got the message. Pulling away to give space between your lips, he searches his back pocket for a condom. Even with your bodies connected. There was still a line deeply etched into the sand, separating the two of you.

–

Once again you woke up before him. Once again you slipped out of his embrace. Ocne more his arms gave no protest. Another journey to the gym.

One time turned into two times, two times turned into… you lost count at this point. However, it would simply be a waste of time to think too deeply about it. It’s Alhaitham after all, that man would never bother with activities that waste his time. If it doesn’t serve to benefit in any way, he’d be the first to drop it, what an objective guy he is.

The two of you were still young professionals with a lot of steam to let off. A familiar face of convenience to destress and feel the wisp of comfort from another warm body in this cold world. This is what’s become of the pile of ashes from a once beautiful bridge.

The back of your head hit against the brick wall supporting your body. Another rejection, this time you made it all the way to the semi-finals. Alas, from behind a curtain, the panel of judges deemed you unworthy of playing in their esteemed orchestra. Your aching fingers dug into your palms, hoping that the pain would distract from the burning sting welling up in your eyes.

The pursuit of knowledge and the pursuit of dreams were more similar to each other than what great scholars of the nation of wisdom cared to admit.

They were the shining light that broke through the murky uncertainly of life, beckoning stray souls towards them. Those lost in the labyrinth of reality desperately seek to walk the path illuminated by their glow.

In the end, knowledge and dreams were like the sun’s warm rays shining through the leaves of a tree. No matter how many times your hands reach for and grab, you can never hold them.

The multiple part-time jobs you juggled between your college courses taught you the most valuable lesson no lecture ever could: Dreams cost money, and so did rent, and so did food, and so did utilities.

Scornfully, you had to tack on extra courses to your piano major, a witless minor in business administration. It stings your pride to this day to attribute your current steady stream of income to that last-minute academic decision.

It stung because, in the end, Alhaitham’s prediction was correct. Regardless of if one was a natural or artificial prodigy like you. Even the brightest and most dedicated musicians aren’t guaranteed a career, degree or not. Perhaps, this truth that you’ve come to terms with was the water that smothered the flame of anger. Leaving behind the defeated wisps of regret and embarrassment.

Of course Alhaitham was right, he always is.

There was a chime from the store door opening up beside you. A certain ashen-haired man walked out with a bouquet of Sumeru roses in hand. ‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’.

You quickly adverted your gaze, but it was useless as he had already taken note of your presence. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Deciding to take control of the conversation before anything starts.

“I don’t have a show tonight.” Referring to the bouquet in his hands.

“I’m aware. I was going to visit my grandmother today.” His deep voice drummed.

Oh. You wanted the archons to strike you down at this very moment. Stupid, why did you assume such things? There’s nothing but a tightrope formed by virtue of convenience connecting your paths. Just what were you hoping for? Your cheeks were now burning with shame.

“Would you like to come with me?” His calm tone beckons you out of your thoughts.

At this rate, how could you refuse? Perhaps it was due to the surmounting weight of guilt and embarrassment. But a part of you also knows it’s because you missed her. So you followed Alhaitham to his car, buckling yourself in and opening your arms, offering to carry the flowers. The car ride was silent the whole time.

Alhaitham’s grandmother always looked at you with those tender warm eyes of hers. Extending out a warm hand to comb through your locks in exchange for every song you’d play for her. She was the only voice that offered your impoverished heart any words of encouragement.

Words that brought an inkling of warmth from the icy stares of your parents.

–

The final note echoed throughout the common area of the hospital. Applause could be heard from the few patients attending your impromptu concert. However, your attention was focused all on the soft smile of the frail woman in the wheelchair beside you. Her thin, wrinkled hands clapped together.

Jokingly you gave a dramatic bow from your sitting position at the piano bench, earning a gentle chuckle from her.

“Oh, what a lovely performance by the loveliest girl.” A hand reached out towards you.

You swiftly bowed your head under her palm, allowing her fingers to rest against your scalp. Gently she began to stroke your head, making a wide smile stretch your cheeks. Your heart’s weekly dose of encouragement. However, this tender moment was broken by the vibrations of your phone. Your eyes quickly scanned the name of the caller.

Oh, it was your tutor, you skipped your lessons once more in favor of visiting the Bimarstan.

The woman beside you takes note of this and lets out a huff.

“You’re already plenty smart. I don’t understand why your parents insist on such endeavors.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her the hours of tutoring and cram schools you sandwiched between your demanding schedule was due to the idolization of her grandson. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t his.

It was yours, for not being to stand on equal footing with the prodigy Alhaitham. You pressed your lips sealed. This detail didn’t escape her aging eyes. She shifted her attention to the sheet music propped up on the stand.

“Do you know the story behind Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro?”

You tilted your head to the side, you’ve never researched any piece in depth before. Reading your answer from this action, the old lady continued.

“It was written for quite a famous play. A story and message that caused waves through society at the time. A story about servants rebelling against their masters, taking fate into their own hands.” Her warm eyes gave you a knowing look.

“That is why it’s my favorite song from Mozart.”

“Oh? Then I’ll play it for you again. As many times as you want.” The smile returned to your face.

You never thought that the next time you’d ever play that song would be at her funeral. Fellow professors and colleagues dressed in black filled the room of the wake, paying their respects to her and their condolences to the young man beside you.

What an awful transition into adulthood Alhaitham had.

Tears streamed down your face, dripping onto the marble floor. Peering at the face of your dearest friend, his cheeks were dry.

By the time the sky began to turn its brilliant pink and orange hues, the attendees had all funneled out of the room. Your parents were the first ones to leave, but you stayed firmly by Alhaitham’s side. It was only you, him, and the casket in the room now.

She wanted a private burial, thus the staff informed you that they’ll begin the process soon. However, before they did, you wanted to play her favorite song one last time. Your send-off for her.

Sitting down at the sleek black piano provided by the funeral home, you took a deep breath. Alhaitham takes his place next to you on the bench, with his back facing the piano you couldn’t see his face.

The bright tones of this joyful song resounding through the room harshly contrasted the somber mood. But you continued playing regardless, fingers never skipping a note nor compromising the tempo.

Alhaitham’s head found its way on your shoulder, the weight slightly interfering with your range of motion. However, you didn’t say anything and never stopped playing. The bright melody comforting two grieving souls.

–

The last memories you had of her resurfacing as he places the flowers down at her grave. The tombstone is still as clean and polished as the day it was inlaid into the ground. A testament to the diligence of her grandson, the only family she left behind.

Today was the first time the day didn’t end with a trip to your bed. The mood was inappropriate for such things.

Just two souls quietly reminiscing about the things that are now gone. As it was, it shall never be again.

If his colleagues were to ever discover the current predicament the raising secretary of the company was in, they’d either dismiss it or laugh at him. How unthinkable. The phlegmatic man whose hands always held the reins of control, reduced to such a complacent fool? The desert would freeze over before any of them would ever believe such a thing.

However, Alhaitham didn’t need to justify his actions to anyone. The ashen-haired man already knew the reason behind his actions. He’s known for quite a while now. He holds his convictions firmly and will walk through hell with them.

–

Sitting down in a private study room provided by the university, a senior was currently wallowing in an irrelevant emotion. Alhaihtam knows the name, it’s grief.

Of course, it’s depressing to lose a familiar face, a person who stood by your side throughout your developmental years. However, you were still alive. Why is he grieving over a person who’s still healthy and breathing? Questions unrelated to his thesis plagued his thoughts as his paper remained untouched on the desk.

Teal irises scan the stack of books he had piled to the side. Perhaps he should review some of the material to refresh his mind about his thesis on the consequences of unrecorded words.

Picking a random psychology journal from the mound, this book could hold the answers to why his thoughts are redundant. Alhaitham began his quest for an epiphany.

The student’s experienced eyes scanned through the text, noting details that could potentially support his points. It’s not a surprise that psychology and etymology go hand in hand, after all, words were born out of human thought and the need to communicate them.

This journal was only scratching at the ceiling that prevented him from crossing into the territory of true understanding. It frustrated him.

Disdainfully scrutinizing the text further, running through each passage over and over, until he finally reads the first line of the final page:

“Psychology as a science has its limitations, and, as the logical consequence of theology is mysticism, so the ultimate consequence of psychology is love.”

The student finally closes the covers of the book, it had served its purpose.

No matter how many times his thoughts circled back, searching for correlations and different conclusions from figurative pinpoints. Alhaitham knew in the end, they were all just excuses.

Love is illogical by nature, an unexplainable consequence of human thought. A fever which comes and goes independently of the will. Maybe, the true explanation of love has been lost to time, the unwritten words that belonged in the spaces between the script printed in preserved texts.

So Alhaitham will understand his limits now. It matters not if he understands the origins of love or language or words. All that mattered to him is that he understands now: He was in love. A diagnosis and truth that came years too late. With this revelation quelling his thoughts, he finished his thesis.

Acceptance, the last stage of grief.

–

‘This is unhealthy’ a voice in his mind chastised. Alhaitham didn’t feel the need to defend his current actions, because the voice was right. This is unhealthy. Teal eyes concealed the running thoughts in his head, watching the raising and falling of your chest.

After all these years you reappeared in front of him. The ashen-haired man knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Even though it was made from a rope of thorns, he still grabbed onto it.

For now, he shall set aside his pride, his hubris. Sex was the only time you would willingly approach him. Alhaitham was more than willing to exchange his body for the privilege of being close to you once more. A fair trade in his mind.

‘If you love something set it free. If it comes back it's yours. If not, it was never meant to be.’

The stoic man is sure the saying would disagree with his tampering. Like setting a songbird free, only to lure it back into his hands with the irresistible treat of pleasure. It was all he could do. Alhaitham knew that cruelly grasping at the songbird will only snap the fragile tightrope that connected your paths.

After all, you had fled the hated cage of your childhood home the moment the door was left open. He already decided he won’t do that to you.

Instead, he’ll keep holding out his hand, palms wide open, waiting for you to come back to taste the pleasure he offers you time after time again.

You were laying on his chest, sleep drenched every fiber of your being, heart vibrating steadily against his own.

It’s a paradox, how can your body be so close but your heart still so far away?

The desire for sleep outweighed his lust for answers. Or it could be that he already knew, he was just delaying the thought for the morning. His heavy lids closed.

When they open again in the morning, he knows they’ll be greeted by the sight of an empty bed. He knows the sheets that hold your lingering scent will be cold. He knows he will be left alone in your apartment.

Alhaitham knows, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The Sumeru Grand Orchestra, the golden ticket for any musician. Status, recognition, and generous paychecks. When the auditions were first announced you were one of the first to jump at the opportunity, and so did everyone else, flooding the application sites, but you were able to secure a number: 211.

Weeks in advance on a muted keyboard you practiced every classical piece you could, sharpening your sightreading senses. You were led into the waiting room with all the other aspiring musicians, it was now a game of survival.

You made it to the final round. It’s been five hours since you last left the palatial concert hall where the auditions were held. The one cramped room was now a motionless void, mutterings of prayers to any archon that would listen whispered through the thick air.

“Number 211.”

You were the lamb up for slaughter. The audition piece that was placed into your hand half an hour ago crumbled under the force of your tense grip. The proctor closed the door behind you, stealing off your path of escape as they led you through the labyrinth. At the end of the tunnel, you were greeted by the harsh stage lights glaring off the grand piano.

The curtains that once shielded you from the captious glares of the judges were gone. All of you laid out clearly on the stage. Your fate is balanced on the tips of their immaculate pens. The minuscule tremble of your hands couldn’t escape their hawk eyes.

Chin up and shoulders back, you strolled across the polished wooden planks, settling down at the matte black piano, it was like staring into the abyss.

Taking a deep breath, you signaled the start. Fingers danced along the ivory keys in accordance with the notes memorized. This stanza was from Meditation from Thais, the hypnotic theme filling the empty concert hall.

It’s been a while since you hear your own playing resounded out through such a place. However, this was a turning point a chance to take fate into your own hands.

To once again stand under the warm lights and bow to an audience enamored by your music. For the songbird to fly free from it’s grey sterile cubical.

“Stop.” A cold voice struck the fragile wings of a bird in flight.

You did as you were ordered, even before your mind even registered the words. Oh no, you weren’t finished, you didn’t get to complete this round.

“Number 211 is disqualified. The playing is soulless, empty notes that just echo off the walls.”

–

Soulless. Huh, you’ve never been told that before. Raindrops landed into your unblinking eyes as they observed the darkening sky. Was nature taking pity on you too? Crying for you when your tear ducts were still frozen in shock? You let the cold droplets trail down your cheek. Around you, the crowd dressed in suits and ties walked passed the scene of a death.

The death of your dreams.

You used up one of your precious sick days to attend this audition, but now it might no longer be just an excuse. You couldn’t feel anything but the sharp shards of shattered hope gouging into your back. Staring up at the gray sky from the deep, cold well of your misery.

When did this happen? When did the bright fire fizzle out? When did your passion die?

A sorry excuse of a laugh slipped out. No, it might be accurate to say that there was never a passion in the first place, something nonexistent cannot die. Something nonexistent cannot be created even if the haze of a fever dream might say otherwise. Now that the rain had washed away that haze, you could now clearly see the void.

Did you really like the piano? Or was it a lie engrained into your flesh by stern hands?

Maybe the judges were right, your playing was soulless, pieces only ever practiced for technical perfection. Talent meticulously crafted by grueling long hours. Fingers that separated your beating heart from the inanimate black and white keys. In the end, you were an artificial prodigy, with an artificial passion that quickly denigrated under the droplets of calm rain.

“You’re soaked.” A baritone voice resounded behind you as a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders.

Alhaitham had just gotten off the clock, exiting the grand sliding doors only to spot your listless figure standing as an obstacle for the weaving crowd of the city. However, you kept staring at the dull sky, uncaring about how your wet clothes clung to your shivering figure. You didn’t even seem to perceive his words.

“You’re going to get sick.” Two warm hands placed themselves upon your shoulders, guiding your body to a secluded area, away from the crowd and rain.

This motion jostled your eyes, allowing them to read the company name proudly displayed on the front of the towering skyscraper. Was this the future you had gambled away for a false path shown to you by a dream? A steady job, good savings benefits, and prospective increases in income. All the chips you had pushed into the center of the table as you drew dud cards.

You shifted your eyes away from the imposing letters and connected with teal-orange irises. Was his mask of indifference hiding his smug satisfaction that his prediction was correct? Was he holding back an ‘I told you so’? The bitter whispers of a green-eyed devil tickled against the shell of your ear.

“Come, I’ll drive you home.”

No, you can’t go back to your abysmal apartment. You couldn’t even stomach the thought of seeing the sight of your reality. The messy bedroom, the music sheets scattered all across the cluttered living room, the mocking keyboard pressed up against a corner. If you were to step foot back in there, you’ll disappear under the murky waters in the ocean called ‘regret’.

Your trembling hands grounded themselves in the crisp button-down, crumbling the fabric against Alhaitham’s smooth skin. No words could travel past your vocal cords, throat numb to move. All you could do was shake your hang head from side to side. You could feel the ashen-haired man take a deep breath, his mind quickly forming an alternative plan.

“Come with me.” Large hands gently untangling your fingers from his clothes.

–

Those same gentle hands were now rubbing a fresh towel through your dripping hair, soaking up the excess water that had been trailing droplets down your skin. His house was quiet, no rumbling of car engines from the streets, no loud gurgling pipes, no thumping footsteps. Still and serene, only allowing the soft pattering of rain kissing the ground and windows.

Alhaitham hasn’t spoken a single word to you ever since he welcomed you into his home and sat you down.

As Alhaitham continued with his efforts to warm your shivering body, all you could do was observe the spotless wooden floors. They were so polished and lustrous… just like the grandiose stage.

Something vile was creeping up your neck, slowly making its way up to the falling sanctuary of your mind. No, you needed to push it back, you needed to distract it. To buy you some time before the vileness consumes you wholly.

Hopeless hands trailed up the toned arms of the man currently drying your hair, making his movements stop. You took this opportunity to shift your body so that it pressed against his, the dampness of your clothes transferring to his. Ah, it must be uncomfortable for him.

Clumsily, you began to undo the neat buttons of his button-down, only for your hands to be enclosed within a delicate grip. You could feel the weight of his condemnatory gaze upon you, teal eyes observing your movements as if he was calculating his next move.

There wasn’t any time for contemplation. The bitter bile thoughts were quickly encroaching on their destination. With your hands immobilized you used your mouth instead, nuzzling into the skin that peeked through the unopened portion.

You could feel the small shiver of his warm body reacting to your cold cheek. Alhaitham lets out a deep sigh, hot breath fanning over the top of your head. He got the message.

Your soaked dress was pulled over your head, heavy black fabric falling to the side of the bed in which you lay now. The sheets providing your shivering body with softness and a semblance of warmth. Alhaitham presses tender kisses down the nape of your neck, stopping between the valley of your breast to push your body further up the bed.

Larger hands ran along the length of your legs, as if to warm them up with the slow friction. Your legs gave no resistance as he places one over his shoulder, lips brushing against your knee.

You let out a small sigh, the skin-on-skin contact was just what your frozen body needed. Your body twisted further into his sheets, your other leg pressed against the back of his hip as if to spur him to hasten his pace. However, Alhaitham, being the steadfast man he is, ignored your neediness and continued to trail kisses down your soft skin. His mouth ended his journey with a slow and deep lap at your clit, causing your body to jolt.

“Mmm.”

Your skin has thawed, every nerve now acutely aware of each slow lick his wet tongue brushed against your sensitive bud. You no longer had any pride to uphold, thus moans just freely flowed out of your mouth just as how slick dripped from your aching hole. Once more you dug your heel into him, your neglected walls yearning for attention.

This time he was merciful, running one thick finger along the slick pooling between your folds. Gathering up the dew and tracing small circles along the entrance.

A whine followed, you twisted even more along the tussled sheets, reaching a hand down to tangle into his ashen locks. Alhaitham gave you want you wanted, slowly his thick finger was welcomed into your eager walls as his tongue continued to play with your clit. Your head was thrown back, heavy pants fogging up the room in the air, lidden eyes barely anything but the back of your head.

Another finger was soon added, stretching out your leaking hole only leaving your gummy walls craving more. A few soft kisses were pressed against your now twitching bud, before his skilled tongue took over for the final push toward nirvana. With practiced precision his fingers swiftly pressed against that spongey patch, making white flames shoot up your spine. Your quivering legs and curling toes didn’t faze Alhaitham in the slightest.

“OH!”

With a firm tug to ashen locks and one final flick to your swollen clit, your eyes meet the back of your head, a stretched moan bounced off the walls. Back arched almost painfully off the bed, Alhaitham continued the slow thrust of his soaked fingers into your contracting hole. As you rode the waves of pleasure back down, Alhaitham finally detaches his lips from your cunt, a slick trail connecting them.

The burning between your legs didn’t stop. You needed more, legs wrapping around his muscular torso, urging him to give you more. His self-control all but turns into dust in your presence. There’s not a plausible scenario where he could ever deny you. Finally, his leaking member can have its turn.

Fighting against the restraints of your legs, Alhaitham was able to pull the condom over his full length. Your hole jolted with joy the moment it felt his fat tip pressing up against your entrance. The slow circling before he finally sunk in, in an instant your walls clung onto every inch he pushed in, thanking him with pulsing contractions.

He sucked in a long hiss from how your warm, slick walls perfectly hugged him. You let your tongue loll out with a deep moan, legs pulling his body closer so that your arms could find purchase around his broad shoulders.

His pace was slow and deep, warming your walls up so as to not hurt the delicate you. This greatly displeased you, evident by how your nails dug into the solid muscle of his shoulders. You need it fast, you wanted it deep, you wanted him to pound those bitter thoughts away with his thick member. Two hands clasped around your hips, snapping your body tightly against his. He’ll grant your request.

“Ah! Ah! AH!”

His merciless pace had your breast bouncing and incomprehensible words babbling out of your lips. Heavy cock dragging out along your grasping walls, then slamming his hips harshly against your sobbing cunt. Every punishing thrust was welcomed by your slick walls thanking him. His heavy pants fanned across your ear as he continued this ruthless speed.

Your body was now burning, precipitation hanging heavy in the air, yet you still arched your back off the bed to chase after his warmth. Bodies entangled in a mess of limbs in an animalistic chase after pleasure and orgasm.

The wet noises of your weeping hole welcoming him back in over and over again. In between the heavy slaps of his balls against your sloppy cunt and thick tip bullying your poor spot, you could feel the deep vibrations in his chest.

“Look at me.” You felt him pull away just a bit so he could have a clear view of your loose face.

You didn’t want to. Lest his searching teal eyes discover the truth of why you pulled him into bed, to give him the satisfaction. You squeezed your lids closed. The particularly deep thrust he snapped displayed his displeasure at your actions.

“Please.” The unfamiliar words coming from his mouth made your eyes wide again. The tone is gentle.

So, with your resolve weakened, you finally connected with his gaze. What was that look in his eyes? It was too soft to be malice, too calm to be anger, too tender to just be lust. Yet your pleasure-melted brain couldn’t process it.

In gratitude for you granting his wish, his thumb found its way to your swollen clit, rubbing deep circles into the sensitive nerve. You pressed yourself impossibly hard against his body, walls clamping down on his thick member.

His actions made the knot inside your stomach pull against itself taught until the treads of sanity snapped. Even though your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, all you could see was the blinding white light of cloud nine. Your walls clamped down around him like a vise, snug walls now binding his length. Alhaitham clenches his jaw, stoic face twisted in the throws of pleasure as he spills himself into the barrier deep within.

Long fingers painting the sides of your hips red as he recomposes himself. Chest heaving from the exertion. He helps himself to a few more slow thrusts in your gummy walls, riding out his own orgasm even as his red tip teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. Your soft thighs still entrapping his towering frame. It looks like you still haven’t come down yet.

Alhaitham’s hand gently cupped your messy face. Your lips were off limits, so he shall kiss those bitter tears away from your eyes instead.

Like always you woke up before Alhaitham again. However, this time you couldn’t bear to look at his face. Was this out of embarrassment, shame, or guilt? You didn’t know and didn’t care.

Unwrapping his arms from around your waist, you hobbled towards the clack lump of your dress. The fabric was still ever so slightly damp, ah, the sensation against your skin made the bitter bile restart its journey again.

You couldn’t help the envy that bubbled up in your system as you observed the spacious halls of Alhaitham’s house. Footsteps softly tap along the polished wood floors so as not to awaken the sleeping homeowner.

Of course, he has a nice house in the most upscale neighborhood. Of course, it's located in a quiet suburb a commutable distance away from the raucous city. Of course, it has nice big windows and expensive dark wood furnishings.

Of course. Of course. Of course. It’s because he’s Alhaitham. He’s got everything.

Your face scrunched up as bitterness crept up from the back of your tongue. It wasn’t from the bitter waters of regret, no, it was from a certain green-eyed creature. You needed to leave this house as soon as possible before you did something foolish.

You dug your hand into your purse for your phone, ready to call a lift back to your shabby apartment. It was all becoming too much. Just at the end of the hall, you could spot the solid oak doors that blocked off the outside world. Get out of this cage and breathe the fresh air.

You no longer cared about the noise your steps were making, thumps echoed throughout the halls frantically carrying you toward the shiny knob. A shaky hand grasped onto the cold smooth metal, ready to twist the deadbolt free. A glimmer of white coming from the side room caught your eye, reeling it back from its tunnel vision. Your head couldn’t help but follow.

It was a grand piano.

His former roommate was right, the white lacquer finish on the piano contrasted harshly against the dark wood bookshelves. It really did look out of place, taking up too much space in the side library. The dark walnut wood piano seat looked odd next to it as well.

The viridescent seat cushion looked a bit worn as if it had been sat in regularly. Still, the pearly finish that reflected the morning rays beckoned you closer, the sense of nostalgia growing stronger with each step.

It looked exactly like your old piano, your most cherished treasure that had been plundered from you so long ago. Trembling hands ran along the glossy fallboard, not a speck of dust was found along the paths of your fingers. You caught sight of the gold lettering inscribed along the front, it was even the same brand.

The pull of intrigue was too great, you had to know, but do you dare? Why are you lifting your hopes up so high? Have you not learned your lesson after being dropped over and over again onto the cold pavement of disappointment below? Maybe you were some type of masochist. Just like Schrodinger’s cat, you can’t confirm if those hopes were dead or alive until you opened the lid.

A resounding creek rang out from the protesting hinges, the lacquered lid heavy as if trying to conceal the truth away from your searching eyes. But your determination beat out any old hinges, lifting the heavy top above your head. Your breathing halted.

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

It was written clear as day on the naked wood concealed by the glossy outer casing. Clumsy letters scribbled in harsh black permanent marker. The proof of authenticity. This is your treasured piano.

Your arm lost all strength, the heavy lid slammed down reverberating all the strings and hammers in a chaotic symphony of shock. The clashing vibrations pierced your ears, causing the ringing that was now the background music to the realization crashing down upon you.

All this time, Alhaitham stayed himself. His unfazed individuality moved through life to the metronome of his own heart. Like a firm apple tree whose roots held the ground below him together. The fruits of his labor dropping down to satiate a heart hungry for encouragement.

The shiny red fruits were given at every meeting, in exchange for every CD and performance attended. All this time, he never once looked at you with pity nor disdain. He treasured you.

And what have you given in return? You participated in gossip behind his back. You looked at him with the same prejudice you promised to defend him from. You broke your promises to him. You lied to him. You used him, even down to his physical body to further your own self-interests.

When did the whispers of a green-eyed monster turn you into that selfish child from the storybook?

If your past self was there to witness the scene in front of her, she’d be appalled. She’d beat you with hatred at the torment you put her beloved friend through. Yes, she’d hate you. You hate you. You’ve never hated yourself more.

How could you do this to him? You really are your parent’s child. You never considered how the shrapnel of consequences from your actions would wound those close by.

You couldn’t even look at the reflection staring back at you from the polished white surface, her eyes stared back at you with malice. You were a selfish traitor.

Too self-absorbed in your own wallowing to notice the slow steps approaching from down the hallway. Alhaitham’s steps were slow as he stared at the back of your figure. Like a watcher trying not to startle a resting songbird. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, making sure he wasn’t just looking at the afterimage of a person who had long left the house.

A small creak was all it took for your head to snap toward his approaching figure. Eyes wide and shaking. Alhaitham made sure to stop a arms length away as he accesses the situation. It looks like you’ve discovered his small secret. A fragment of the past that he relentlessly searched for, the only time he ever asked anything of your parents. He planned to return it to you one day.

You looked like you could collapse at any moment, so Alhaitham held out his hand, palms open and awaiting. You reached a quivering hand out, pulling back slightly a few times before finally landing. Your fingers clasped onto each other, you drew closer to his board figure until your forehead was resting against his chest. You didn’t dare look at his face.

He made no further moves.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry.” Your mouth couldn’t stop spewing the regrets deep from your heart.

Even though you were apologizing, you didn’t want him to forgive you. You couldn’t even forgive yourself, how could he? It would be easier if he just hated you. If he were to just say ‘I hate you’ right now with that stoic voice of his, you could die peacefully. The best end that you deserved. You could feel the wet spots forming on his shirt from your tears.

“I won’t forgive you.” The vibrations from his deep voice were felt against you.

Four words cut into you deeper than any knife ever could. But you deserved this pain. Your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth, on the verge of splitting open from how hard you were biting back your cries. You didn’t deserve to cry.

“Not until you play Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro.”

Those words halted your breathing. Like a rope that’s been thrown down the dark well you were wallowing in. Will your hands reach out and grasp onto this opportunity? Slowly you lifted your gaze up. Something behind the calm teal of his eyes was egging you on to do so, to take a hold of the lifeline thrown down from the bright sky.

“… Of course.” You let go of him.

Moving back over to your grand piano. Lifting the smaller section of the lid first this time placing it gently back on the larger section, allowing the music rack to appear. Setting up the notches into position, you then lifted the heavy back lid up. Placing the prop up this time so as to not put your piano through the same chaos again.

Finally, the dustfree fallboard was lifted up, revealing the keyboards that held the faint imprints of history. You settled your self-down at the bench, your hands hesitantly reaching out only for your fingers to retract the moment your soft tips brushed against the smooth ivory. The bitter shame of failure scorching your delicate senses.

Inhaling a deep breath, you turned to face Alhaitham reconnecting with his teal gaze as he stayed in place. A silent plead. With quiet steps, he approaches closer to the bench, the wooden protested under the added weight. Two bodys not touching, facing in opposite directions. Ah, just like a familiar scene from many years ago.

Once more, you attempted to reach out your fingers, emboldened by the soothing body heat of the man besides you. Placing your fingers back into position, the scorning of your finger tips becoming irrelevant. Lulling you to return back into the blackness of your sanctuary of mind. Recalling the song that symbolized a period of great change, wonderful change.

The pressed keys played their notes, the hammers inside your piano striking against the string. Ringing out the awful tones of stings that have gone out of tune from years of unuse. Even if it stung you ears and his the same, you continued to play the chipper overture. The bitter bile fizzling out like sea form, as laughter tickled the inside of your throat.

“It sounds terrible.” You giggled honestly.

“Mm. I’m not all that familiar with performance etiquette, but I’m certain talking during a show is bad manners.” There was no bit to his words. You couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smile.

Two hearts now closer than previously, became the metronome for the off-key rendition of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, accompanied by the bright giggles of the pianist and the content sigh of her audience. Outside the window, a songbird chirps to greet the beautiful sun that resurfaced after a day of rain.

He absolutely adores you, he always has. He knows that you know now. But he also knows that you weren’t ready to hear it. The weight of three small words would be enough to topple the stability of your consciousness. It wasn’t strong enough to handle them, not after the mangling hands of guilt and regret vandalized it.

So he won’t say those three words, not yet, not until you’ve repaired your cracking foundations. Alhaitham will wait to tell you ‘I love you’. Like a patient tree standing on the hill biding its time for the return of a beloved creature.

Fin~

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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guillotinebypierre · 6 months

Text

Sex,

A sexual activity typically involving the insertion and thrusting of the penis into the vagina for sexual pleasure or reproduction.

Historically, the reasons people have sex have been assumed to be few in number and simple to understand. In nature, to reproduce, to experience pleasure, or to relieve sexual tension. Several theoretical perspectives suggest that motives for engaging in sexual intercourse may be larger in number and psychologically complex in nature, meaning that sex helps people form bonds, no matter if they're purely off sexual attraction or emotional attachment.

In theory, one night stands are thus something positive as one can live through all the good parts of sex without the attachment.

Or so you thought.

Y/n L/n never liked one night stands. At least until a certain point.

Back in 2015, when he was still a young and innocent boy, only 18 years of age he had gotten the opportunity of a lifetime, getting to work overseas with incredible pay and getting to know a totally different culture than the one he was used to.

So he took it.

In January 2015 Y/n went to South Korea and studied and worked there for 8 months. 8 months in which he got to know and got to love the culture. He wanted to stay longer, but he knew he couldn't. He had a life back in his home country. He had family, he had school and he had a girlfriend.

But that mindset changed entirely when he came home and found said girlfriend cheating on him as those 6 months were apparently 'too long' for her to wait for him.

This put Y/n in a bad situation, literally, as he had declined the company's offer of moving to South Korea , and figuratively, as he was mentally fucked up from that emotional abuse.

Y/n ran towards the organizers, calling them frantically and asking if there was a way for the offer to be reinstated, and much to his surprise, they gladly took him back in and got his ass on a flight the next day.

He didn't realize it yet, or maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself, but he had already started missing South Korea. He boarded the plane, his phone constantly vibrating as his (now ex) girlfriend kept calling and texting him asking for forgiveness, but he didn't pay her no mind as he shut his phone off and smiled while watching the plane take off.

Y/n landed after what was a surprisingly calming 14 hour flight and got picked up by a chauffeur from the company, who took him back to the place he had called home up until a few days ago.

The first few nights were rough, as tears were shed and all the negative feelings Y/n had been suppressing started becoming too much to handle.

Y/n had never been one to drink alcohol, as he believed the negative aspects and especially the hangover were too much to be outweighed by a quick night of fun, yet something moved him to go to a bar that night. He dressed up, putting on a loose fitting white dress shirt, leaving the top three buttons upon as he was wearing a chain, some black trousers and finally, some black loafers.

It was a warm summer night in Seoul, adults and teenagers still outside even though it was getting late. The sun was just setting, the streets were lively and it seemed like every single light that could have been on at the time was on. Y/n drove through the city, music blasting in his car as he sighed. He still didn't understand how his life had turned out like this, he didn't get why reality had hit him like that all of a sudden, but his thoughts were soon swept away as his GPS announced his arrival at the destination.

The bar was full, about what one would expect of a bar in the middle of one of the most populated cities in the world during a summer night. The smell of alcohol and nicotine paired with sweat and sex stung in Y/n's nostrils as he walked through the bar, dodging drunk men hitting on women and waitresses bringing customers their drinks. Music blasted through the speakers, fueling the lust that was oozing out of every pore inside the building.

"That money is the only thing I'm chasin'

And some dope dimes on some coke lines

Gimme head all night, cum four times

Baby girl just wanna smoke a pound

Do an ounce, get some dick, tell her friends about it"

"One Lemon Vodka Cocktail please", Y/n told the bartender as he sat down.

"Go tell your friends about it

Go tell your friends about it

Go tell 'em what you know, what you seen

How I roll, how I get it on the low"

"I'll have the same thing he ordered please", a voice suddenly interrupted the music.

Y/n looked to his right and saw a woman who he could only describe as angel like. She had long, dark brown hair and wore a short black skirt which stopped a bit above her knees paired with a black vest blazer that exposed her toned stomach. She had very subtle make up on and her red lipstick accentuated her plump lips. She smiled at Y/n showing her bunny like teeth as she turned her body towards Y/n and held the side of her face with one arm, which was propped up on the table in front of them.

"You have good taste in drinks", she began.

"Thank you. I don't really like alcohol, though. I usually don't drink.", he answered.

"Oh really ? What's the special occasion then ?"

"Just need to lay my mind off some things.", he responded vaguely.

"Oh I get that. I normally don't drink either but I felt like I needed something to relieve my stress.", she replied while sipping her drink.

"What's gotten you all pent up ? Is it work related or something else ?", he asked her.

"Definitely work. I just feel so frustrated all the time and I'm still unsure about whether or not I'm gonna make it and it's just so draining, mentally and physically."

"Hey, relax. Take a deep breath. I'm here.", Y/n said while grabbing her shoulder. The woman had started tearing up and it was clear that whatever it is that was bothering her, it was taking a toll on her.

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking ? You look pretty young and I don't think it's normal for people our age to be this stressed.", he asked her after buying her another drink.

"Oh I'm 20. How old are you ? You look pretty young yourself.", she answered while wiping away the tears from before.

"I'm 18. That means you're my noona, right? Sorry I'm pretty new to the country and the honorifics sometimes mess me up.", he said.

The woman blushed at the honorific before nodding.

The two young adults talked for hours, not even realizing how late it was getting as their conversation blended out all outside noises. Not a single tone of the continuous onslaught of R&B music being blasted nor the loud laughter of girls gossiping with their friends.

"Oh shit it's already 11 o'clock I should be going home", the woman said while frantically taking her things and throwing some bills next to her drink.

Y/n got up and walked behind her, seeing her take out her phone and making a call.

"FUCK I don't have any data to call anyone.", She said while kicking an empty beer can on the floor.

"Do you want me to drive you ? My car is right there", Y/n said while walking up to her.

"Oh no I don't want to bother you, I live halfway across the city..", she answered while looking down.

"I-I could take you to my place then if you want? It's not that far away and I can sleep on the couch.", Y/n said while blushing

"And here I thought I was forward, at least take me on a date first", she jokingly said while hitting his shoulder

"No but in all seriousness, I don't want you going through Seoul all alone at night."

"Wow such a gentleman, how could I possibly refuse such an offer, then", she said while smiling and walking with him to his car.

The pair soon drove away as Y/n's new friend quickly took control of the aux and started playing a few pop songs by what Y/n got to know as Kpop group F(x).

The duo soon arrived at their destination as Y/n opened the lock and walked in with the woman walking behind him while looking around.

His house was designed in a minimalist aesthetic. A white kitchen , white living room with one big couch, a large television and a nice rug with a coffee table on if. He had plants distributed evenly across the different areas of the living space, giving it a nice and cozy atmosphere. Y/n walked further into the house as the woman soon heard an almost timid meow coming from what she assumed to be the master bedroom. The door opened and out came a small black kitten which walked between Y/n's legs and started nuzzling it's head against his head.

She picked the kitten up and started babying it, giving it lots of kisses before Y/n suddenly spoke up.

"This is the room you'll be sleeping in for the night. You can just pick out any of my clothes to sleep in. Theres a bathroom at the end of the corridor where you can shower and I'll be in the living room if you need anything.", he said before closing the door and walking away.

The woman picked out a comfortable looking sweatshirt and a pair of joggers before walking into his bathroom. She immediately noted how clean it was, she saw an assortment of different colognes and a towel which looked like it could fit two of her, before walking into the shower and letting the warm water fall on her, relaxing all the sore muscles. She let out a sigh of relief before continuing to wash herself.

After showering and doing a reduced version of her night routine, she laid herself down on the bed and tried to sleep. Keyword tried. She tossed and turned but something just wasn't right. She thought a bit about it, and she quickly realized it was Y/n. She wasn't blind, she thought he was handsome, cute even. He was a great conversation partner, he wasn't a drunk idiot unlike the other men in that bar, he wasn't hitting on her in a way that made her uncomfortable and he even was so kind to offer her a place to stay for the night. She didn't want to admit it to herself as she thought it was ridiculous that she could fall for someone she met only 5 hours ago but here she was, laying in his bed, wearing his clothes, in his house.

"Fuck it I'm sick of this shit", she thought to herself before walking out of the room and seeing Y/n peacefully sleeping on the couch

"He's pretty", she whispered out loud.

She slowly crept towards his laying figure before opening the blanket and sliding into his sleeping figure, an action that didn't go unnoticed by him as he began to wake up.

"What the- Oh did you need something?", he asked her while slowly sitting up.

"It was getting lonely there", she replied.

"Oh I'm sorry. I could've given you my kitten if you-"

"Just shut up and kiss me already", she interrupted him before closing the distance and finally doing what she felt she should've done at the bar already.

The kiss was a bit awkward at first as Y/n was still too stunned at the situation to realize what was happening but after a few seconds he started kissing back. He moved her to his lap, putting his hands on her ass as he slowly smiled into the kiss. The pair continued until they forcefully separated due to lack of oxygen.

"I should've done that at the bar already"

They looked at each other and smiled before leaning in and kissing each other once more. Y/n switched their positions, grabbing the woman by her waist and laying her down, with him on top of her. He continued kissing her as his mouth soon moved lower and he started sucking on her neck.

"Pl-please no hick-eys. I-I don't want to have to sp-spend time covering-ah covering them up", she said while closing her eyes as he attacked her sweet spot. He nodded before making quick work of her- of his sweatshirt and throwing it somewhere on the floor. His lips and hands continued traveling further down her body as he saw the lack of a bra. Y/n toyed with her sensitive nipples, he pinched one while sucking on the other before switching.

The moonlight illuminated the living room as he saw the trail of saliva tracing his path down her body. Her eyes were still shut down while her back arched and her mouth was open, continuously letting out small whimpers and moans as Y/n worked around her body. He went further down, slowly kissing down her flat stomach before stopping at the waistband of the joggers. He looked up at her as she nodded, understanding that he was waiting for her consent, before he slowly took them off, throwing them too into the pile if clothing that now housed his shirt too. Y/n looked at her panties, the lacy red pair having an obvious wet spot right in the center, before taking them off and immediately diving in.

She tasted sweet. It was addicting. He slurped her up like water, drinking every single drop like he had been stranded in a desert. The woman cried out in pleasure as she grabbed a fistful of Y/n's hair and pressed him further into her hot core. Her back arched even more as her thighs pressed against the sides of Y/n's head. Her legs shook, her toes curled and her mouth drooled as her body completely shut down and exploded back to live all within a few seconds as her first orgasm of the night hit her like a bullet and shook her to her core.

Her juices dripped down the sides of her thighs and down to her asshole as Y/n frantically licked every spot he could find clean as to not waste a single drop of his equivalent to the elixir of life.

Her breaths grew heavier as she tried to calm down from her high. She sat up, looking hungrily at her lover as she noticed the obvious, painful looking bulge in his pants. She kneeled between his legs, her pussy juices dripping down onto the floor, and started to take his pants off. He was soon left with only his boxers before she took them off too and got hit with his cock as it sprang onto her forehead.

"I definitely should have made a move on you earlier", she said before leaning forward and taking the tip into her mouth.

She licked around the base, having to adjust a bit as she had never worked with something that big before, before diving in and taking a couple of inches down her throat. Her throat was tight, her tongue and throat muscles working expertly together as she started milking him dry. She continued laying on the pleasure as she jerked the part, which didn't fit in her mouth, in a circular motion while also playing with his heavy balls. She continued her oral attack for a few minutes before taking his member out of her mouth with a satisfying pop and standing up.

She sat on his lap before standing up a bit and guiding his large penis into her tight and awaiting pussy. She slowly inserted the tip before slowly squatting and taking it inch by inch. Her hands locked around his neck, pressing his head into her chest as she bit her lip while trying to get used to his large size filling her to the brim. She took a few moments before slowly moving her hips, riding him expertly in a circular motion.

She moved her hips, mimicking a belly dancer as she now stopped trying to contain her moans. She let out heavy breathy noises, which coupled with Y/n's groans and moans as he put his hands onto her ass, squeezing it and using it to guide her around his dick. The room was filled with wet slapping noises as her soaked vagina slammed down on his hard cock. The pair continued their make out session as the kisses turned from passionate to lustful, tongues battling for dominance as it was now unsure whether their top or bottom connection was wetter.

Y/n pounded into her as their hips moved in sync, his lap drenched in her juices as she had came twice while on top of him. He attacked her breasts again, making her moan and scream for him to fuck her harder and faster. He slapped her ass, asscheeks recoiling and moving like a wave hitting a quiet mass of water as he felt himself getting closer and closer. Her walls tightened around him as her orgasm approached once more. She shut her eyes close as they rolled into the back of her head, her thighs quivering and squeezing against Y/n's torso. She clamped around him, gripping him tightly as her muscles contracted around his dick. He throbbed and throbbed while she moaned in his ear that he could bust inside, before he reached his limit and let everything go, shooting thick spurts into her stomach.

They stayed in that position, hugging each other, until both of them passed out from exhaustion.

Y/n woke up the following morning with a bit of a sore lower body, confused as he didn't feel someone on top of him. He stood up, checking the bedroom and the bathroom before walking back and noticing a small note on top of the coffee table.

"Dear Y/n,

yes, I did get your name from your ID inside your wallet but don't worry I didn't take anything ;)

I wanted to thank you, for both the best night of my life (I'm still feeling sore :( ) and for being such a kind person. I was pretty down yesterday, and the stress was really getting to me, but you truly helped with that, and for that I want to thank you.

Sadly, I had to leave you early due to work and as much as I would've loved to stay in your arms (you look pretty while sleeping) I decided to leave so my boss doesn't fire me.

I hope you understand and aren't mad at me.

Love xoxo"

He read the note over and over again, looking for one particular piece of information before giving up on the tenth read and realizing he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

He did not get her name. He did not get her phone number. He met the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and had no chance to see her again.

-- time skip --

Eight years.

It had been eight years since what was now known as Y/n's greatest experience ever. He had gone out every weekend. Every weekend going around Seoul in the hopes of finding her again. He had slept with a lot of people in the hopes of finding someone to replace her with but to no success.

The sex with her was amazing but with anyone else it was just alright. They had gone all night but no one else had been able to make him feel the same way she did.

While planning another one of his trips, Y/n suddenly got a call from one of his closest friends.

"Y/N STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING RIGHT NOW", his friend screamed at him through the phone.

"Why-"

"DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING PLANNED TOMORROW?", he continued

"I'm going to the gym in the morning but other than that-"

"CANCEL EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW"

"I don't have anything to cancel-"

"I SAID CANCEL EVERYTHING"

"Alright fine damn but whats the occasion? Are you getting married?"

"BETTER, I GOT US TWO FRONT ROW TICKETS FOR THE TWICE CONCERT-"

"I don't even like Kpop like that-"

"YOU ARE COMING WITH ME. BE READY AT 4 o'clock TOMORROW. BYE", and with that he hung up.

"What have I gotten myself into", Y/n thought to himself before going to the kitchen and getting something to eat.

The morning soon came once again as Y/n left to go to the gym. He had heard of TWICE, of course, everyone had. But he didn't get Kpop like many of his friends did. He had a few groups that he liked but to him the industry was a very weird and toxic place, a place in which idols are seen as objects to fuel parasocial relationships and get money off of them, but then again, he had been sleeping around Seoul in the hopes of finding a woman he had met eight years ago so maybe he wasn't in the greatest position to talk about healthy relationships.

Time flew by as he was now walking with his friend around the venue, his friend deciding now would be a good idea to give him a rundown of the last eight years of TWICE's career until (thankfully) someone interrupted him as they tapped Y/n's shoulder.

"Excuse me, I saw you from a bit away and I thought you were really handsome. I wanted to ask if I could maybe get your number?", a girl asked him.

She wore a black bucket hat and a mask, black tight fitting jeans which gave a great look on her plump ass and a black turtleneck under a big black leather coat. Y/n didn't know what it was but her voice reminded him of someone, he just didn't know who.

"Oh yeah sure. Here's my phone, just type it in and send me a message to see if its good", he said while smiling down to her.

She took his phone off of him and started typing before giving it back to him. His phone vibrated soon after that as he saw the notification.

Nay❤️

Hey handsome <3

"Seems like everything worked, I'll talk to you later then. Have fun on the concert, handsome", she said before quickly getting on her toes, lovering her mask and kissing him on his cheek.

"How the fuck do you do it ,Y/n? This shit ain't fair you didn't even have to do anything! Show me you moves please-", his friend started pestering him as they walked towards their seats.

The show wouldn't start for another hour and a half so Y/n decided to text Nay in the meantime. The two went back and forth, teasing and flirting until she asked him to meet up after the show.

Nay❤️

I'm actually staying here until Monday morning. Would you like to meet up tonight ? I can send you my hotel address and room number. I'd really like to get to know you a bit more without, you know, so many people around us

And with that he had a plan for after the show.

The wait soon stopped as lights went out and a loud tune could be heard from across the venue. Y/n quickly recognized it as the opening chords to TWICE's TT. The girls stepped out, all looking gorgeous as they waved around at the fans. Y/n looked at each of them until his eyes fell on one girl and a sudden realization hit him.

Eight years ago he had fucked Nayeon. As in Im Nayeon. As in he had spent almost a decade going after an idol whom he had fucked once before she had debuted. Then it all clicked. The reason why she was so stressed was because of training. The reason why she didn't want any hickeys was because she couldn't be seen with them without getting in trouble. The reason she had to leave sooner was because she needed to be at her dorm for practice.

His eyes widened as everything suddenly made sense. Y/n looked back at the stage flabbergasted before realizing Nayeon was looking at him with a sly smirk on her face, as if she had read his thoughts. She waved at him, blowing a kiss and winking as the person behind him thought they had their main character moment.

"DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT NAYEON TOTALLY WINKED AT ME?????"

The concert went over quickly as Y/n's friend screamed his voice out while chanting the girls' names. Y/n had fun too, even though he spent most of his time looking at Nayeon. The two friends soon parted ways as Y/n got into his car and drove to the location Nay had sent him.

Y/n arrived at the hotel, noticing how luxurious it was as he made his way through security and told the receptionist that someone was expecting him.

He rode the elevator up until the final floor as his hands started getting sweaty. The last eight years had led up to this, he had looked for her ever since he was 18, he was 25 now and he couldn't believe it. One thing was for sure, though. He had let her go once and he sure as fuck wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He got to the door, checking his messages five times over to make sure the numbers matched up but there was nothing wrong. Room 2010, this was it.

He knocked on the door three times and it was as if every movement was in slow motion. He waited. Nothing happened. He waited again. Nothing happened. Just as he was about to knock again the door opened and he was suddenly pulled inside, all he could hear was the sound of the door closing and locking in record speed.

He looked around before noticing a smaller person with a large head of brown hair crash into him and hug him. He looked down and just as he was about to say something the person crashed their lips against his. It was a familiar feeling, a familiar taste. Cherries and a slight hint of vanilla. He was sure it was her.

The kiss continued for what felt like an eternity until both of them were forcibly pulled apart due to lack of oxygen.

Y/n looked down, panting heavily before seeing the bunny teeth he had been so desperately searching for the past eight years of his life. He broke out into a huge grin as the person in fron of him broke out into tears and hugged him.

"Hey, relax. Take a deep breath. I'm here. And I'm not leaving anymore.", he said, having major deja vu feelings.

"I'm so sorry for leaving you without a name or number it's just that-"

"Dating bans and whatnot, I understand Nay. Don't stress it", Y/n interrupted her while hugging her.

"I have been searching for you for the past eight years Y/n. You can't imagine how happy I was once I recognized your handsome face in the crowd during our concert."

"I've been looking for you the past eight years too Nay. You wouldn't believe the lengths I've gone to to try and find you but all I found was disappointment.", he said while laughing lightly.

The two sat in silence on the bed, Nayeon laying her head on his shoulder as he rubbed circles along her back. She finally had him back in her arms and she knew one thing. She wasn't letting him go this time.

Nayeon looked up from his shoulder, seeing him smile while looking at her , before she did what she wanted to do every day for the past eight years and kissed him. The kiss was different than the one before. It was raw, it was full of emotions, it was full of sorrow, full of pain, full of regret. It was an accumulation of everything she had wanted to give him for damn near a decade.

The pair kissed. They took breaks to catch their breath and then kissed again. The kissing soon led to making out as Y/n fell back on his back and Nayeon attacked his neck, sucking on it hard as if she wanted to mark her territory. She played with his hair with one hand while the other palmed his growing bulge. Her hands found their way towards the bottom of his shirt, ripping it off his head as she trailed down his muscular body, licking across his abs and sending shivers down his spine. Nayeon then took off his belt, throwing it away and pulling down his pants and underwear in one swift motion

His erect penis sprung at her, hitting her in the face once more just like it had all those years ago. She immediately took him inside her throat, inch by inch, as she coated most of the length with a layer of saliva. She did the combo once more, stroking his shaft with her hands while fondling his balls before she was suddenly picked up and felt her tights and panties being ripped open. She then felt a wet tongue entering her pussy as her eyes rolled back and she backed up into Y/n's face, using him as a seat. She grinded on his tongue, riding it expertly as he ate her out like she was his last meal while she was ecstatic.

Nayeon's suite was filled with wet noises as Y/n ate her soaked pussy out, it was filled with moans as she screamed his name and creamed on his face, it was then filled with slurping noises as she bent down and sucked his dick again until it was finally filled with a high pitched scream as Nayeon's body shuddered, her thighs closing in against Y/n's head and her pussy released it's sweet juices on his face.

Nayeon fell to the side, wanting to catch her breath, but Y/n had other plans. He picked the idol by her waist, positioning her over his cock as he plunged his thick cock inside her slippery super soaker. She gripped his dick immediately, not letting him ago as the tip continuously hit her weak spot, her walls tightening around him as he felt every single fiber of her sex muscle. She bit his shoulder, leaving bite marks across his anterior and posterior deltoid as she came on his dick once more, forming a big puddle on her bed sheets. He grabbed her ass as support before using it to slam her down while thrusting into her, occasionally slapping her ass cheeks leaving them bright red in comparison to her pale skin. One hand went down as he started playing with her sensitive clit, while the other continued on her ass for support before he changed that, too, and used it to play with her nipples.

Nayeon soon started throwing it back on his cock, twerking on it as she showed him how her hips moved, before she felt a familiar feeling of her orgasm approaching, making her squirt her juices on Y/n's muscular body. He continued relentlessly fucking her as he felt his end nearing, dick throbbing as his thrusts got sloppier and he focussed on hitting as deep as possible. Nayeon moaned into his ear, once more telling him to come inside, as he stroked for one last time before burying himself deeply inside her tight snatch and unloading every last drop of cum he had stored in his balls, holding her tight to make sure she got every last drop inside her.

The pair soon collapsed, as a large pool of sperm started oozing out of Nayeon's pussy while she sighed in a satisfied way. Y/n turned to his side, looking Nayeon deep into the eyes as he started speaking.

"You know, I never realized you were an idol until a few hours ago."

"I know. It surprised me back then already. Our survival show was already being published and you didn't recognize me at all. It was one of the big reasons why I trusted you like I did."

"I feel like we have so much to talk about, Nayeon. You're so gorgeous, I'm not letting you go. Not again."

"Who knew you were a hopeless romantic, Y/n"

"And here I was trying to give compliments"

"Pabo I love you too. I'm not letting you go either. I don't trust the women in this city. Did you see how many of our fans were eye fucking you at the concert? I can't let that happen. This dick and the person it's attached to are property of Im Nayeon and Im Nayeon only."

She stood up while laughing, limping slowly towards the bathroom before tuning around and speaking again.

"You know, we could shower together, save water costs and what not?", Nayeon said while pointing behind her.

"I don't think we'll be saving any water but I'll gladly join you."

#kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpopfap #idol x male reader #kpop x male reader #x male reader #male reader #twice nayeon #twice smut #nayeon x reader

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jobean12-blog · 9 months

Text

Dark Desires

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x reader (Demon AU)

Word Count: 700

Summary: Now that he's finally found you he's never letting you go.

Author's Note: Another one for @pupandkisasaesthetics Aesthetic's challenge! Thank you bunches to beauties @sgt-seabass and @rookthorne for hosting such an awesome challenge!💕 And thank you bunches to my beautiful Ali @flordeamatista for reading this over and supporting me always!💕 Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰The moodboard is by me and the photo prompt I was given is the very top picture. I've also included it on its own at the bottom so you can get a good look!

Warnings: some angst and tension but he's soft (maybe soft!d-a-r-kish if you squint) and definitely s-e-x-y.

In the deep, dark of the woods, where the moon’s pale light struggles to pierce through the dense canopy of trees, there is a thick silence other than the rapid thumping of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears.

Your feet catch on fallen twigs and branches, your skin scraped and torn but you don’t stop running.

Unseen eyes watch from the shadows, a presence so powerful you can feel it in your bones.

You’re being hunted.

Instinct fuels your escape but it’s futile as the forest seems to shift around you, pathways twisting and turning in a disorienting dance.

As you stumble over the ground and fall to your knees you suck in a deep breath, the whisper of wind carrying strange murmurs in a language you don’t understand.

Suddenly, you feel a cool breath at your neck, your hairs standing on end and goosebumps shivering along your skin.

You turn with wide, fear filled eyes but there’s nothing but the darkness of the woods pressing ever closer.

You stand on shaky legs and step carefully toward a large tree, pressing your back to the thick bark and searching for the source of the palpable force.

A tall and broad figure emerges from the shadows, it’s silhouette only something you’ve seen in books and as it moves closer, steps measured and deliberate, you can start to see the outline of huge wings.

You squeeze your eyes shut and will the image away, digging your fingertips into the tree.

The voice, when it speaks, is a whisper against the shell of your ear, powerful in it’s seduction and dangerous in it’s temptation.

A slow and deeply satisfied smile frames sharp teeth and his breath quickens when he inhales at the soft skin of your neck.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “My perfect Angel.”

Your eyes are still closed tightly as a single tear rolls down your cheek. He lifts his thumb to tenderly brush it away.

“Open your eyes,” he says softly.

Unable to resist you do as he says.

“There,” he says, holding his saccharine smile. “Was that so hard.”

Your lips tremble as you try to find the words to speak. His thumb, still pressed to your skin, moves lower, tracing the outline of your mouth until he lightly presses against it, parting your lips.

“Don’t be afraid,” he coos, spreading expansive wings the color of twilight until you’re surrounded only by his presence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He tilts his head invitingly and holds your gaze, the horns that crown his head, twisting upward with artistic grace, glinting in the moonlight.

Your lips part further as something moves behind him, long and sinewy but before you can decipher what it is it disappears from sight.

“Wh…who are you?” you manage to ask as you finally let your eyes wander over the rest of his features.

He inches closer, his nearness creating a complex blend of emotions and sensations, blurring the lines between fear and desire in a way you could never have imagined.

His blue eyes are mesmerizing, their intensity both powerful and imposing but yet softened by an unyielding desire. Long but strong fingers continue to ghost over your face, his touch igniting a fire under your skin that spreads through your veins.

“James. You can call me James.”

You gasp out his name when you feel something slide along your calf. It’s touch is gentle despite the power you feel and as it explores the contours of your skin with reverent curiosity you become aware of what it is.

Each caress of his tail leaves a lingering trace of tingling sensations, awakening a trail of longing that seems to coil around your very being. He slides it between your breasts, lightly tracing the curve of your neck before he loosely wraps it around the delicate column.

“What are you going to do to me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

His dark hairs falls forward, brushing your cheek as his soft lips caress your ear and his voice, like velvet, whispers promises that sink deep into the recesses of your desires.

“Everything Angel. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @late-to-the-party-81 @sebstanwhore @lookiamtrying @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @justkinsey @kmc1989 @littleseasiren

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #demon!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #demon au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #pup&kisasaestheticchallenge

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mrsnancywheeler · 4 months

Text

the lakes (9) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

5.1k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, lots of violence/death/blood, like a lot of it, it's the hunger games, mentions of starvation and dehydration, injuries, mental illness, self loathing, casual dominance, savior complex Finnick, codependent relationship, reader has trauma relating to being too cold especially being cold + cold water we'll get into it eventually like next chapter, terms of endearment, nudity in a non sexual way, unedited, no use of y/n, Finnick washes readers hair

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You woke up too early, there was too much time for your thoughts to run on top of the fact that you'd barely slept at all. Mind full of reminders of the last time you'd been in the arena, how cruel fate was. At least you were still with Finnick, the protection of his arms, surrounded by his love, and you snuggled further into his grasp. Desperate to savor every speck of his being, of the moment before it could be taken away from you. You forced your eyes back shut, who knew how much sleep would be available in the arena, being well-rested could be an advantage. It didn't hit you until you sniffled that you were crying, it felt pathetic, how often you cried.

“I know you're awake." His voice didn't startle you, simply made you intertwine your legs with his even further.

“Don't wanna be." You buried your face in the crook of his neck, somehow even if there was no ocean he'd been swimming in for so long, his scent was still that of saltwater. It comforted you, like the smell of your home when the windows opened in the morning.

“I know, sweet girl." He nodded, arms having wrapped themselves tighter around you. An unspoken fear that if either of you let go it would be the last time. Tears peppered his neck and you already felt like it was lulling you back to sleep.

You weren't sure when your exhausted self had fallen asleep like that, but the next thing you remembered was Finnick softly whispering your name, announcing it was time. You kept your eyes shut and shook your head which broke his heart. Part of your brain reminded you that you volunteered for this, you could have been at home sick with anxiety, but instead you chose to be here.

“Come on, sweet girl, we have too." He whispered, voice so comforting it could have made you fall right back into your sleep. He was hypnotic.

“I can't." It was true, you couldn't have willed your body to move even if you’d wanted to. Your muscles felt like they'd shut down, frozen in place. He didn't push back with an ‘I told you so’ he just began lifting you up from the bed. Your head shook as he moved, “Please, Finnick.”

"Angel, we don't have a choice.” His voice was sad, but definitive. He wiped away the residual tests and tiredness in your eyes from where he'd say you on the bed.

Staring into his soothing eyes helped your stiff muscles loosen somewhat, but shame had begun to take over your brain too. “I'm sorry." You muttered, your voice cracked and was still heavy with sleep.

“It's okay, don't worry about it.” He kissed your forehead, "I've got you, sweet girl, I'll take care of you.” The guilt was almost numbing your body all over again, but it all reactivated when Finnick tried to step away. Instantly grabbing his hand and whining when he'd tried to pull away. “I'm just starting the shower." He reassured, but you didn't let go. So he sighed before resigning himself to it and just picking you up to come with him. He started the shower and put you down.

Maybe it had all finally hit you, the fact that your impending death meant you'd never have these moments with him again, but you felt completely robotic. Your arms felt heavy and you felt lonely the moment he was no longer touching you. Your fingers fumbled as you tried to get undressed in your stupor, but Finnick’s warm hands overtook your own.

“Don't worry about it, angel, I told you I’ll take care of you." You nodded dumbly as he began helping you undress. You'd spent so much time recently trying to prove you could do this you'd forgotten how nice it was to just let him take control, let him take care of you. As he helped you into the shower the warm water made you more tired which he could tell, “I'm going to have to make the water cold to help wake you up, sweet girl, just for a little bit."

You'd mumbled something incoherently probably trying to argue, but you couldn't, you needed your head in the game today. Finnick gave you a second before turning the temperature over to cold, you weren't standing directly in the water, so the residual sprays of water misted your body making you shiver. He cupped his hands under the water, collecting some of it.

“Tilt your head back for me, angel, got to wake you up." You did so and closed your eyes as the icy water hit your face. Although you'd never admit it to him, the water itself wasn't what really was waking you up, well it was in a way. The cold instantly put you back into the arena, the way you'd all been dripping and shaking in the freezing rain for days on end. “You okay?"

You nodded, “Yeah, thank you."

“Awake enough that I can turn the water back?" He smiled softly at you as your hands moved up and down your arms trying to create heat.

“Yes, please." You were grateful when he did, making it burning hot like you preferred. It all made you miss your home in District 4 where it was usually warm outside and the water reflected that, or every time it was cool it was combined with heat. So rarely did the weather and water coincide to be bitingly cold in those cases you just refused to leave the house much to Finnick's chagrin.

He led you into the stream of water, its full heat covering you as he wet your hair. When he was fully satisfied he took his time washing it, hands massaging your scalp. “You know hot water is bad for your hair." He whispered as he washed some fancy shampoo out of it.

“I don't care and don't even think about it." You gave a warning look to him, he had a teasing look in his eyes.

“How am I supposed to let the woman I love damage her hair like this when I'm taking care of her?"

“I'll get out."

“Well we wouldn't want that." You felt so peaceful while he continued washing your hair by the time he was completely finished you felt less robotic and more malleable. Finnick began scrubbing your body clean, who knew how long until you'd be able to do that again, if ever. You soaked up every moment in fear that it could be the last time you went through this routine. He made sure you were sufficiently soapy before rinsing you off and moving onto your face. You didn't even know the names of the various Capitol products, but he did it all with ease. It almost felt unnecessary, the size of your pores didn't matter when you were fighting for your life, but you let him continue. It was calming, made you feel loved, cared for.

“Thank you, Finnick." You said when he finished, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He nodded, “Go dry off, angel, I'll be out soon."

“Don't wanna leave you." Your arms wrapped around him once again as you shook your head.

He kissed the top of your head, “Okay, angel, just stand right there and look pretty.” You took a couple of steps back as he washed himself off too, far enough to avoid most of the residual water spray when he turned the water back to cold as he cleaned his face and hair. Soon enough he was shutting off the shower head and grabbing two towels. He grabbed your hand, helping you out of the shower. “I got this too, my love."

He tied his towel around his waist before he began to dry you off. You were easy to move as he dried your hair as much as he could before sitting you down on the edge of the tub to brush your teeth. It gave you flashbacks, once upon a time you'd been sat here in this exact bathroom, in the same position as he did the same thing for you. It solidified in your mind how you wouldn't be able to live without him, he knew what you needed more than you did. Maybe because he'd dealt with it all himself and no one to do it for him, but he was always there to force you out of bed, take care of yourself, make you eat a meal, go outside, and endless other things that could have slipped your mind in favor of endless sleep. When he was done with your teeth he once again helped you up to spit on the sink and let you lean into his side as he began brushing his own.

“Let's go get you dressed." Without a word he picked you up the moment he was done brushing and brought you back to the room. The clothes didn't matter much when soon enough Cambrie would have you dressed to enter the arena, but you let him dress you in whatever he picked. Once you were both dressed, be kneeled down at the edge of the bed. “How hungry are you?"

"Not really.” But you knew you'd have to eat, the possibility it could be days until you found food again wasn't slim.

"Come on, we're going to have to try to get something in you.” He went to pick you up again.

"You're really sweet, but I can walk.”

"Preserving your energy, angel.” He smirked and held you regardless to bring you out to the table. His chair pulled up right next to yours as he got you a little bit of everything, anything that could keep you full enough for a while in the arena. You ate slowly in a comfortable silence, savoring the food that you might never taste again. In your heart you knew it was the anxiety keeping you from hunger, but you pushed on out of the larger fear of starvation in the Games.

“Good job, angel." He said softly, at first you didn't know why, but then it hit you that he needed you to be properly nourished as a sign you cared about survival. He picked up a peach from a basket on the table and handed it to you which you accepted gratefully.

You'd only relish in its sweetness for a few bites before your designers entered the room.

“It's time to go." Cambrie already sounded weepy, but that wasn't why your heart stopped. Finnick grabbed your hands intently.

“You come find me right away and I'll find you. If anything happens, you scream for me and I'll follow your voice. Don't go trying to save anyone. Please, promise me that." He said soberly, eyes boring into yours to ensure you were fully committed.

"I promise, Finnick." He nodded slowly before wrapping his arms around yours and you melted as his arms got tighter, like he didn't want to let go. He reluctantly pulled away as the two of you stood, leaving the peach on the table. You grabbed his face, kissing him as deeply as you could and he instantly did the same. “I'll see you soon." You mumbled breathlessly.

“I love you so much, you deserve to live, remember that."

"I love you, Finnick.” He kissed you again before you both were forced to get on with it, to enter the arena where the unknown and uncertain lie.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the platform began to rise, taking one last look at your stylist Cambrie who gave you a sickly sweet smile, she was convinced you would win and talked non-stop about all the benefits she would get if you did. But as the sky came into view you weren't so sure, different advice Finnick had given echoed in your head. How you needed to make your allies trust you, allow your instincts to take over, not freeze, stay logical, be wary of the environment around you, and about feeling guilty later.

Wind hit your face as you rose from the ground, quickly taking note of the environment. There was no sun out, it was cloudy, the ground was extremely muddy where the grasses were, but large chunks of dirty water made up different portions of the area surrounding the Cornucopia. You tilted your head to the side where you could see certain areas had trees, none of which were very green. It was mainly a marshland you concluded with some swamps dispersed throughout. Backpacks of supplies and different weapons lay scattered around the Cornucopia where most of the bounty lay, your allies had already agreed to go for it first thing. Not to hesitate when the gong ran out and to protect each other if someone else tried to attack. You couldn't see Conway from where you stood, but Marlowe wasn't far away on your left, staring intently forward and Birch to your right was looking around like you were. Meeting eyes for a second he just nodded his head.

It felt like the longest minute of your life, but soon enough the last few seconds were on the clock and the adrenaline in your body preparing you to spring forward. There it was, the resounding gong, and you jumped forward. Eyes searching for the closest weapon to defend yourself with. There they were, glistening with water, a few small knives and you lunged for them.

Right as your hands grasped them someone tackled you from behind. You felt your ear wet with mud as you turned over under the body on top of you, slashing your knife into whatever was above you, whatever had hands trying to grasp around your neck. Something warm hit your face as the hands went limp. You wiped your eyes with one hand to see a girl, you were pretty sure she was from District 8 above you. You pulled the blade out, pushing her off of you before scrambling off the ground, grabbing the remainder of the knives. There wasn't time to feel bad, you needed to get to the Cornucopia.

The boy from District 10? 12? Everything was too blurry, you just needed to survive, to get to everyone else. The boy caught your eye, he had a machete and before he could even come towards you with it, one of the knives flew out of your hand straight into his skull. He fell backwards and your brain told you to grab the weapons, keep going. Some small voice told you to stop, how messed up this all was, but your instincts said otherwise.

You finally saw Conway, pulling a spear out of the girl from District 3 you were pretty sure. Suddenly Marlowe was in your view too, picking up a backpack.

“Here!" You heard your own voice, but it didn't feel real and tossed the machete to her which she grabbed with ease.

“Thanks." She said quickly, and then Birch came out of the Cornucopia, bloody hatchet in hand. He had a backpack on and was holding two other ones. Throwing one to you and then Conway.

“We should fill them with what we can find before we clear out.” He said gruffly and you all nodded. You decided to grab an extra backpack as you all walked towards the Cornucopia, grabbing small weapons on the way to fill the bags. Conway and Birch went deeper inside as you and Marlowe looked around, keeping defense.

Thinking about Districts didn't even matter anymore, you could take stock later, one of the boys came at Marlowe with a sickle. You threw a knife into his chest, he took a step back, giving Marlowe enough time to thrust the machete through him. She pulled it out and grabbed the knife for you too, tossing it at you with a nod.

“I think we've got what we need." Conway's voice filled the crisp air. You dumped one of the backpacks contents into the other one, tossing the empty one on the ground before sliding the other one on. Marlowe picked up an ax before muttering something in agreement. As the four of you exited the Career pack approached. The air was tense, but it didn't make you nervous. It would be four against four, there would be no point in attacking now.

All of you kept eye contact as you passed by each other, Birch giving a brisk nod that the boy from District 1, Otto you thought his name was, returned one. So you all walked into an area with more trees, leaving the other pack to whatever was left behind in the Cornucopia.

“Do you think the water’s safe to drink?" Birch asked, looking around at the areas around you.

“It's muddy, it would have to be purified at least." You answered, trying to rub off the mud you could feel drying on your face.

“Who knows what could be inside it." Marlowe remarked, some sort of mutt ready to attack.

“We should sit here and see what we have, make a plan on where to camp and how to hunt." Conway pointed at a clump of rocks. Everyone agreed, it couldn't have been more than an hour yet you were all exhausted. Time was a construct here, they could make it day or night whenever they pleased.

Conway had two spears, a mace, a net, a water bottle, a plastic cover for rain, and some sort of bug spray.

“Oh my god, there's going to be some sort of poisonous bug." Marlowe shook her head.

“Maybe we'll get some more, we'll all share and use it sparingly." Conway said, filling the bag back up. When Birch opened his, you realized the bags weren't the same. You'd expected them too, but there were variations.

“Let's see we've got a hatchet, a sword, a serrated chain, a box of matches, this super small bottle of iodine, a tarp, and a random coil of wire, which I don't think is useful to any of us. Good thing we grabbed more than one bag." He remarked, leaning back on the rock.

Marlowe emptied out hers putting her axe and machete to one side, “A sickle, an empty bottle of water, more bug spray, thankfully, another plastic cover for rain, and these weird glasses.” She played with them in her hands.

“They're for seeing in the dark." You said, hand burrowing in the moss on the rock. “Um I've the throwing knives, a dagger, dried fruit, another bottle of iodine, and an empty bottle of water-” You internally thanked yourself for grabbing two, "Rope, more matches, a compass, and this metal bowl."

Conway nodded, “If we come across any more backpacks we should take them too." What he really meant was if you came across someone to kill them and take their things, but he didn't dare state it aloud.

“We should set up some snares, we can start a fire on the rock, so get some firewood, and fill the water bottles we do have." Marlowe stood up, axe in hand.

“What if someone sees the smoke?" Birch asked, sliding a bit as he stood.

“Then there's four of us and one of them, the Careers won't attack us, not yet. We can use the wire for fish-hooks, see if there's any to catch. I'll make a fishing rod and we can use the net." You filled the bag back up and stood on the muddy ground.

Birch nodded, “Good thinking." He smiled, he had the type of smile that was so infectious it made the most mournful times somewhat happier.

“Let's put on some of the spray first." Conway pulled out the bottle, shaking it. Trying to use it sparsely, save it as long as possible. All of you stayed nearby, but still split for your tasks. You made some rods with stray branches, cut off some of the rope, and wire. Setting them into the mud, if there were some fish you'd set up the net wherever you camped for future meals. Conway had begun filling up the bottles you had and putting in the iodine to purify what you did have. Birch had decided he would set up some snares and borrowed your dagger in case there was something he could kill before it even hit the snares.

Marlowe got done with the firewood the quickest, saying how back in District 7 there were punishments if quotas weren't filled fast enough so she'd been forced to learn how fast she could chop wood since she was a child.

“Caught anything?" She asked, setting down the wood on a tarp to keep it dry.

You shook your head, “No, I'm too worried about whatever poisonous bugs might be here to dig for worms. If Birch catches anything I'll use part of it for bait, I might just throw the net in though."

"Here I found some crickets.” Conway came over, hands cupped.

"Are we sure they're not poisonous?” Marlowe asked as she began setting up the fire.

"Looks like plain old crickets to me.” Conway laughed, grabbing on the rods to stick them on the hooks. Slowly, but surely the fish began coming in. “I'll skin and you keep catching?" He asked, squeezing your shoulder.

You smiled up at him, “Sounds good to me." Marlowe had a fire started the moment everyone was ready, hours had passed by the time you'd caught a good enough share, skinned them, began to cook them, and Birch returned with some rabbits.

“We should eat here and then move to find a different camp before the sun goes down." Marlowe was helping Birch with the rabbits while you cleaned off the knives being used for each thing. You'd eaten much better than you'd expected too, trout and rabbit, plus having water. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you started. Immediately you began packing up camp, Conway filled up and purified the water bottles again before you all started trekking again. The temperature began to drop and the jacket stopped doing as much as it had been doing before, you all finally stopped at an area with more dense greenery and trees. Laying out the tarps and plastic covers to try for some warmth.

Then there the light was in the sky, time to find out which tributes were dead. Both tributes from District 3, the girl to Conway. You thought of that poor 13 year old boy's family watching their baby die and silently prayed he'd gone quick. No one from 1,2, or 4 which was unsurprising. Birch had killed the boy from 5 and the boy from 6 is the one who'd tried coming at you and Marlowe. That was the female tributes from 5 and 6 still alive plus both District 7 tributes, since they were both with you. The girl from 8 was you, but the male tribute was also dead, probably from one of the Career’s. Both from 9 were dead, both from 10 probably even more from the Careers. 11 was still alive, but you were right about thinking the boy who was going to attack you was from 12, his district partner survived though. 13 tributes left, 11 dead in one day.

Everyone was quiet, solemn. “I'll take first watch." Your shaky voice cut through the night air, after the silence had almost become unbearable.

“Me too." Conway's arms were around your shoulders, he wasn't particularly warm, but it was better than sitting alone. Birch and Marlowe agreed, laying down to get some sleep. You stared at the night sky, there were very few stars in the sky even if you knew they were artificial, it made you even more upset. Nothing would beat the feeling of you and Finnick sitting on the beach at night, staring at the stars over the glistening water as his warmth surrounded you like some sort of shield.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“I'm just going to miss you so much!" Cambrie was bawling onto your shoulder. The Capitol woman who's whole life was ahead of her was crying to you, the one about to be sent to a battle of the death. “I'm going to dedicate a whole fashion line to you, it'll be such a hit." She meant well, she really did and that's what you reminded yourself.

“Including the wedding dress?" If anything it made you want to cry more thinking about how this poor, misguided woman still cared about you so much.

“Oh yes. With a train like you're walking on water and sea foam." She pulled away to blow her nose. “You just have to come back, gorgeous, I'll literally die without you." Ironic. “Maybe they'll be a hologram or something, won't be as good as the real thing, but you're my muse." The sickening part was definitely back, but she raised to be shallow so she was. A voice echoed around the room indicating your need to get on the platform. You hugged her one last time and she kissed you on the cheek, probably leaving trails of pink glitter but at least it was a proper goodbye.

“Thank you, Cambrie. I couldn't have asked for a better designer." You walked over to the platform that closed around you, giving her a soft smile as he waved a goodbye, tears streaking down her slightly purple tinted skin.

Your foot tapped nervously on the platform and you hoped that at the very least it wouldn't be a cold arena. You began moving up, sun, you could see sunlight, that was good, at least you'd have sunshine. The smell of salt air hit your nostrils and it shocked you, a smell you were pretty sure would be left at home was right here. If you died, you'd die knowing that wasn't the last time you were one with the salty waters. When you were finally all the way up you looked around anxiously, it was water, clear, seawater you had to swim to get to the Cornucopia or the rows of rocks that you could walk on. Jungle was on the other side of the beaches, but there were beaches that felt almost too good to be true, like it was perfect for District 4. The sun cut in the way of your vision making it nearly impossible to make out faces, but you couldn't find Finnick. You took some deep breaths, preparing to dive the moment the gong rang out. He'd go straight to the Cornucopia and try to find Katniss so you'd do the same.

The instant the gong let out you'd dived in, having eyed the nearest part of land so you could try and make the quickest swim there. It didn't take long and you were hoisting yourself on the rocks. Running forwards to the shiny structure where he had to be. A hand from the side grabbed your leg and you tried to kick it off, “Finnick!" You shouted as the person attached to the hand emerged from the side of the rocks, pulling you down. He was from District 9, a lot older, but he was still much stronger. Brute strength had never been on yours side, but you could tell it was on his. “Finnick, Finnick!" You screamed, trying to kick the man off of his. His hands grabbed your shoulders harshly before punishing them back, head roughly hitting the rocks. It was dizzying, your head felt like it was literally spinning and your nose made it feel like you were drowning. Hands flew up, your vision was somewhat blurry, but last time you'd been in this position you'd taken out Conway’s eye. Even if that kept you up at night, you could do it again. “Finnick!" Scratching at the man's face seemed to be doing very little besides delaying him as he tried to bat away your hands. Then he was coughing, sputtering blood all over your face the shock he seemed to be going through gave you an opportunity to kick him off of you, his weight on you made it a struggle but the adrenaline forced you to persist. He fell flat when you did escape and then you saw the axe in his back. You looked up, Johanna was headed your way.

You wanted to say thank you, but you felt somewhat frozen, your mouth tasted like iron, and she was somewhat blurry. “He's over in the Cornucopia, with Katniss." She said, tearing her ax out of the man’s back. Her eyes found Wiress and she went to get her, mostly because according to Haymitch it was her way in with Katniss, she'd only take Johanna if she'd saved who Katniss wanted.

Your hands went to wipe your face and there was more blood on your hands then anticipated then it hit you that your nose was bleeding, the shock hadn't allowed you to initially realize, but you probably looked like a mess of free falling blood. “Finnick!" You yelled, your head ached as you kept running forward. Through the ringing that had begun in your ears you could faintly hear your name being called. You finally caught sight of him running towards you, a seemingly reluctant Katniss behind him.

“What happened?" He asked, wiping some of the blood off of your face.

“Nine, Johanna just saved my life." Your mouth felt like it was filling with the blood as you wiped your face again.

“Well, I'll have to thank her sometime." Finnick smiled even though you could tell he was still concerned, so were you, the pounding in your head still hadn't gone away. “Here." He slid three small knives into your palm, “Grabbed them when I was in there for you, angel."

“Thank you." He quickly kissed you, getting his own lips getting smeared with blood. There were no complaints as he wiped it off and turned back to Katniss.

“Peeta! Peeta!" She was looking around frantically.

“Found him! Over here!" Finnick shouted, handing you his trident as he dived into the waters where Peeta was struggling to stay afloat. Katniss ran over as Finnick brought Peeta back to the shore.

“Peeta!" She helped pull him up and you all paused a moment as he gained balance. You handed Finnick back his trident. The ebbing pain in your head was finally seeming to lessen.

“Let's head out this way." Finnick said, arm around you as he began walking forward. Gloss, Cashmere, Brutus, and Enobaria continued on with their Bloodbath as your group made its way onto the beach and into the jungle. There were no supplies waiting around this time, you supposed they weren't intending for this to be a long enough game to need a survival kit just weapons. It felt safer though, you had Finnick, warm, protective, hovering Finnick. There would be no need to imagine the times you had with him when he was right there even if the plan was dangerous enough to get you both executed regardless of what happened in the arena.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading I was so excited to write this one, but I've been pretty busy so it took me a while to get finished but I'm so glad I did. thank you all for the feedback and support, if you enjoyed it let me know comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated and my ask box is always open. 💋

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pinkcowzz · 2 months

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something about tim & dick’s relationship makes me feel so. !!!

they are both such complex characters and it really makes my heart feel so heavy to think about them for too long.

like. dick created robin out of his parents blood. the costume was inspired by his family's colors. the name was one he was given by his mother and the only reason he took up the role was because he wanted to get justice (revenge really) for his parents death. he was taken in by bruce who was SO YOUNG at the time and who was still learning how to cope with his own loss still. their relationship was built off of that shared grief and understanding. but then one day, dick learned to let go of that grief. he was able to not let it consume and control him. and he grew tired of living in the dark nest that bruce built for them. and bruce doesn't know how to deal with someone else he loves leaving him so he kicks dick out. like yes bruce is dick's father figure of course he is. but he was also his brother in a weird way. dick didn't want or need for his parents to be replaced so bruce offered him something different. he offered him a partnership. and partners are supposed to be equal but somehow bruce ended up placing himself higher than dick and it was suffocating so he had to leave.

and in dicks absence, bruce finds another kid. this time, it's a kid who does need a parent. jason's relationship with bruce is so different than the one that dick had and i have to imagine that it hurt. it hurts to see your father be better for someone else. it makes you think why? why not me? why wasn't i good enough? and to make matters worse bruce gave away dick's blood without a second thought. jason is given the mantle of robin and my god i cannot imagine the pain it caused dick to see someone else flying around in his colors. that was his name. and dick is still just a kid. yeah he's like legally an adult but his prefrontal cortex was nowhere near developed. so he's bitter and short and rude to jason. he has to take time to get used to having another kid at the manor and another kid in his colors but its fine! its fine! he does come around eventually and his guard starts to come down and he commits to being there for jason. but it was too late. dick leaves the planet to be a hero and when he comes back? jason is dead. the kid he was just starting to get used to is dead.

not only is he dead, but he's already in the ground and bruce? bruce goddamn wayne didn't even bother to tell him. how in the world could bruce ever consider them partners. as far as dick was concerned bruce was just as good as dead to him as jason was. and it hurts. it hurts to not be able to go home without seeing the ghost of a kid you chose not to protect, the ghost of a kid who died too soon wearing the same colors that your parents died in.

so dick doesn't go home. he doesn't speak to bruce. he builds himself a new life, the teen titans become dicks home. and he's okay with this. his origin is so similar to bruce's but he refuses to be the same as batman. so he faces his ghosts. he doesn't let them haunt him. he hears about haly's circus potentially getting shut down and he goes to deal with it.

and here is where dick meets tim drake for the first time. tim who tried to help him save haly's circus (albeit he accused the wrong guy but he was trying). tim tells dick that he needs to save batman.

and so dick brings him back to the manor. where tim tells dick just how important he was to his childhood. tim explains how that night at the circus shaped him just as deeply as it shaped dick. tim shares this complete and utter faith in robin, as if robin is enough to save batman from his own grief. but dick knows this isn't true. dick was barely enough to save himself from his own grief much less bruces. but nonetheless bruce saved dick when he was at his absolute lowest. gave him something to believe in. so maybe, just maybe, he can try again for bruce. but not as robin. it can't be robin. his partnership with batman died when he was kicked out and it was buried when he was kept out of the loop about jason. but tim knows that batman needs more than nightwing by his side. so he takes up the robin mantle. he takes it upon himself to 'save' batman. and in a way, he does. he helps bring bruce back from the edge.

and dick. the last time someone took up his families colors, someone died. and he refuses to allow that again. he refuses to be the reason that tim suffers. so he becomes the older brother he couldn't quite bring himself to be for jason. and to tim? he's wearing the mantle of two robins on his back.

his own standards are set so high and he tries his damndest to meet them every time that he puts on the mask because he knows where the colors of the suit came from. he knows why dick created this identity. he was there. he saw the grayson's fall.

and for a while, things are good between them. things are great even.

then the attack at titan's tower happens. and tim is told that he is just a placeholder (not a replacement like fannon likes to claim, but the words jason todd used were placeholder). and seeds of doubt start to be planted. was he ever wanted? was he ever truly appreciated? he did steal the suit the first time he put it on. was it fair for him to wear the colors that were born of dicks blood and that jason died in?

then tim loses his whole support system. stephanie. bart and kon. his dad. and finally, bruce.

dick has been so committed to never being like bruce. he has been so dedicated to relying on those who offer him help. nightwing is pillar in the hero community, but batman. batman was the foundation. he is considered a founding member of the justice league. he doesn't want to take up the mantle. it had never been in his plans. but jason proved too unstable to take up the role and of course he can't ask tim to. so he dawns the cowl he has grown to hate.

this just leaves one little problem. damian.

damian who has just been dropped off on bruce's porch by talia. damian who grew up in the league of assassins and is so out of place in gotham that dick doesn't know what to do. he never asked to be batman and he definitely never asked to be a father. yet here he is. having to do both. so he does what bruce did all those years ago and provides damian with the mantle that he created in order to give this kid some sort of outlet. he knows damian needs it.

by some unfortunate twist of fate, dick has unknowingly created such a painful parallel between his own firing and tim's.

and then tim discovers that bruce isn't really dead.

and this kills dick just a little bit more. of course he wants to believe tim. of course he wants his dad back. he wants someone else to be the one to make these hard calls and he wants someone else to parent damian. he doesn't want to be the one who has to fire his little brother in order to save the other.

but he can't take that chance. he can't risk the hope. because losing it would actually ruin dick. so he tells tim it isn't possible. because to dick? it can't be possible.

and this just furthers the wedge between the two of them. tim feels abandoned and lost and he feels as if he has nothing left.

and dick doesn't understand why tim can't see that he's right here. he's right here tim i'm still here why aren't i enough for you to stay?

anyway this got away from me a little bit but god their relationship could make angels weep it truly makes my heart stop if i think about it too much.

#batman #tim drake #batfamily #batfam #dc comics #dick grayson #a lonely place of dying #red robin #sorry this is so long #i just have so many thoughts #they mean so much to me #tim and dick #nightwing #robin

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llamagoddessofficial · 9 months

Note

So we've seen your Error headcannons, can we get your Nightmare ones since you're in a romantical mood?

Oh can you.....

He's a very complex individual. Under all that rage, when he likes you and wants your company, he's actually a very calm, intelligent and eloquent lover. Princely, if you will. He likes hearing you talk, and is very good at roping you into chatting about your hobbies for hours while he just adoringly stares. He enjoys the arts, music, poetry... once he finds someone he wants, you'd never even know how much anger he's set aside.

(Unlike Error, he's aware that constant anger isn't a very attractive trait)

While he's first starting to develop feelings, it's one of those situations where you won't realise how much he likes you until you see the way he acts around other people. You might think he feels neutral about you, at best- he talks to you, but never about himself, seeming to prefer when you're the one talking. Maybe chortles at a joke every now and then. But overall, he's relatively quiet, relatively still-faced... not very outwardly emotional in any manner.

... Then you see how he acts around everyone else. Hair-thin temper that leads to physical violence with anyone who annoys him too long, dismissive and mean about any subject, he tells people who talk too long to shut up and makes underhanded cruel 'jokes' at their expenses. The same tentacles that curl around your hand or stroke your back as he walks by will grab Dust around the head and slam him into the ground because he made a poorly timed joke.

Nightmare has an eye for traditional courtship. Once his heart is set on you, expect bouquets, jewellery, fine evening dining, strolls through midnight gardens, flowery handwritten letters. He carries a locket with your portrait.

You would think his love languages are gift giving and acts of service, considering how often it seems to be the only way he shows love. But deep down... it's actually physical touch. He's just far too afraid to show it.

Nightmare would do well with a physically affectionate partner. Someone who'll cuddle up to him first so has an excuse to snuggle back. But someone less physical would also be good- sometimes he's afraid his aversion to touch will drive away a partner, and somebody who doesn't really mind either way soothes those fears.

You can't lie to him. Well, I mean... you can. But he can sense it, and he'll always know. Whether or not he lets you think he believes you is up to him.

He has a locked box in his castle full of sketches and small oil paint studies of you. You'll know he's finally totally comfortable with you when he politely asks if he can draw you.

His tentacles often act on his true feelings. Whether that's snapping out to choke Killer for asking if you top, or lovingly curling around you when he's half asleep.

... He's actually pretty childish. Especially when in love. Though he's good at hiding it under layers of highborn mannerisms, he fucking hates when there are any potential rivals for your affection. He tends to lash out against the 'rivals' in underhanded manners whenever you're not looking, then really lay on the charm and affection with you to ensure you're not thinking of leaving him. If you're asexual or demi it may not be that big of a deal because he's soothed by your lack of interest in others, but if you're pansexual or bi, it might be a genuine problem that needs addressing.

Call him "my love". He likes feeling like your one and only.

#llamagines #you all have valacre to thank for my adoration of nightmare

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trancylovecraft · 6 months

Note

Yandere light yagami headcanons?

(DEATHNOTE) YANDERE! LIGHT YAGAMI x READER: Headcannons

Thanks for ordering!

Come again soon!

• Eep! NOT a good yandere to have in deathnote at all.

• I headcannon him as delusional, Obsessive and MANIPULATIVE TO HIGH HELL (what a surprise)

• Delusional in the way that his god complex plays into his obsession. He believes he’s entirely right and believes you to be pure and completely innocent. If he is a god, You are an angel. That sort of thing.

• Obsessive in the way that he just loves to dig up all the information he can on you. Light uses this to his advantage to be the perfect boyfriend. Keep his image up for you and appear like the most loving partner in the world

• And manipulative in the way.. well, You know. Light likes having control of you and your life. He decides your friends to your wardrobe. Tells you he's doing this for your own good, And with his delusional tendencies he believes it too.

• I can see two ways that he gets invested in you.

• One, You were in the same class as light. You were smart too, Always keeping up with him and being a sort of academic rival. It infuriated Light, It tempered his ego and made him want to tear his hair out.

• Number two, You were an awful student. You got in trouble with teachers, Slept in class and had general bad behaviour. But you were smart, You were clever, You aced all your tests. This interests light, Surprises him even.

• I’m picking number two.

• You often skipped class, Went out to smoke and drink underage. You were intelligent but you never cared for academics or any high-profile careers suggested to you by your counsellor. You instead had a passion for something else, Something away from here.

• Light wasn’t interested in you at first. He view you as a slack-off and had a slightly negative opinion of you when you WERE in class. You didn’t like him either because he was a snitch who tattled to the teachers about you smoking.

• But that changed one day.

• You were off for about a week, And completely missed your homework. So as the respectable man that light was, He offered to bring it to your home.

• But when he got there, Light was stunned. Your father answered the door, Slightly stumbled in his movements and a pungent smell of liquor on him.

• Light handed over your homework to your father, Barely getting a peek into your dirty and unkempt home before the door was slammed shut on his face.

• From then on, Light became much more understanding to your situation. He’d sometimes turn a blind eye to your unhealthy habits, Lend you notes that you missed or help you out if you asked.

• But it wasn’t obsession. Well, Not until he got his hands on the deathnote that is.

• As soon as Light does, That’s when his mental health starts to spiral. His insanity and god complex become much more.. Visible.

• Not visible, Light hid it very well. But the affects the deathnote had on him just amplified all his worst traits to the absolute maximum.

• Including his obsession

• Light started to grow more and more enamoured with you. He grew antsy on the days you didn’t show up to class, Mind wandering to you in late night study sessions.

• It starts off as that, A distraction. A persistent one that distracts him from his goal of becoming god, But just a distraction.

• Of course though, You saw the title and pressed read more so of course it isn’t gonna stay that way. The distraction becomes obsession.

• It invades his mind, Every second of the day is him thinking about your smile or the way your hair smelt of apples. He tries to shake it off, But Light just can’t.

• Then, His delusional tendencies start to kick in.

• All of your slights, Your smoking and your drinking. Your wide vocabulary of insults or your snarky attitude all get written off. You are perfect, You are innocent.

• He starts walking with you to school despite your protests, Keeping his perfect attitude up as a kind and caring man. You tried to get away but somehow he finds you (Well not him, But a certain god of death has eyes on you.)

• Light brings you lunches since you never brought any of your own. He makes sure you eat every bite.

• When you talk with Light, You find out you have a lot in common! Almost everything, In fact (You don’t know that Light stalks all your social media and in real life to get a taste of how to be the perfect man for you)

• You also notice that what little friends you do have start to drop out or avoid you entirely for some reason, Leaving you with Light.

• He often invites you to study sessions at his house, Making sure to hide the notebook too of course. He uses this as a way to get closer to you and as a cover for when L is surveying his house.

• The Kira case is now ongoing, You don’t really have an interest in it but Light seems to have. He tends to mention it in conversation, Trying to get your opinion on Kira.

• When you tell him that you think Kira is a good-for-nothing criminal who should be locked up, He isn’t happy to say the least.

• You’re weirded out by his behaviour, You don’t understand the sudden change of attitude but get brushed off when you try to bring it up.

• Until you decide to go out for a midnight snack run, You wanted to watch a newly-released movie and you didn’t have any food in the house thanks to your drunkard father eating it all.

• But when you leave the convenience store with your goods, You’re suddenly pulled into an alleyway and a gun is shoved into your face.

• You’re terrified, Barely listening to the mans yells and threats for you to stay quiet. All before his gun drops from his hold and falls to the ground, Dead of a heart attack.

• After that night your opinion on Kira has taken a turn for the better.

• As soon as you get to school the next day, You’re shaken up. You admit to light what happened to you. Light of course is very understanding and concerned for your wellbeing.

• You tell him that your fine and that Kira must’ve gotten to the criminal. This is where his manipulative edge comes in and he starts to push you towards Kira with words like:

• “I don’t want to think what would’ve happened if Kira wasn’t there, If he wasn’t, You could’ve died.”

• Positive reinforcement. You don't have any other friends at school except for a few smoking buddies, Even then you don't talk much. Light is your only source of socialisation, You trust him.

• This is where he starts to manipulate you more and more.

• By now you two are both in college, You go to the same one as him after he convinced you to join. You don’t know how you got in with your horrid grades but you passed the entrance exam with flying colours, So that was probably it.

• After that his behaviour gets stranger and stranger.

• He becomes much more clingy, Following you around everywhere now and constantly asking you to come over to his house on the guise of studying for college.

• You’re both a strange pair. Light being the perfect man, Perfect grade student that everyone loves while you’re some girl with bad attendance and a smell of liquor.

• You cant make any friends at school, Anyone you talk to instantly avoids you the next day. It takes a toll on your self esteem so you decide to just stick with Light.

• There is Ryuzaki too, A boy that shared the top spot with light. But you think he’s creepy and just avoid him as best as you can.

• It’s also why you excuse his behaviour, You have no one else to talk to and you just write off his behaviour as being caring.

• All until your hand accidentally brushes against a certain notebook in his bag.

• You didn’t mean to, But as soon as you do you see a shadow looming behind Light, Who is cackling to high hell.

• You cant say anything before Light pushes you to the wall, Grabbing you by the neck and starting to choke you.

• This is where you become aware of who he is, Your best friend is Kira. A man who has killed thousands.

• Light lays down how this is going to go, He looks crazy, Insane as he tells you that from here on out you’re going to do as he says.

• You try to protest but suddenly Light silences you by kissing your lips roughly. You’re disturbed, Shaken and terrified as you struggle.

• When Light pulls away he tells you that if you struggle he’ll kill everyone in this school, Telling you how the deathnote works.

• While you aren’t the best person, You don’t want thousands of innocent people to die.

• He says that you have no choice, And you don’t.

• After that, You enter the domestic stage.

• You dropped out of college for what was said to be bad attendance when In reality, Light just doesn’t like you being outside.

• You spend your time at his house and after explaining your exaggerated sob story she quite sympathetically lets you stay to your horror. You don’t want to stay but Light was watching your every move.

• He doesn’t let you out of the house, Telling his mother that you’re sick from your domestic life and that you need rest. She brings you food, You want to say something but you can’t risk the life of thousands

• As much as he wants to kill your deadbeat father he can’t. It would fuck with his plans and you have no other guardians, Throwing you over to the legal system.

• Its not like he’ll know you’re gone though, He won’t report to the police in favour of another shot.

• When Light comes back he often plays up his delusional tendencies, Showing what he calls affection with kisses to the lips and embraces that you wish you could escape from.

• When his sister Sayu asks about you, Light tells her that you’re his girlfriend but not to tell mother. Sayu of course, Tells her anyways and she gets excited for him. Light planned this of course, Giving you more pressure to stay when his family loves you so.

• And as his girlfriend, You two sleep in the same bed. Its uncomfortable, But after Light threatens to whip out the ‘note you need to bear with it.

• When Misa comes into the picture, She is instantly is jealous, But is told a lie by Light that you’re just there to further his plans and she is the one he truly loves when its really vice versa.

• You do somehow end up becoming best friends though, Misa shows you pictures of her shoots and brings you food for a girls night. Its nice, You have someone else to talk to other than light. (good luck if she goes yandere for you too)

• If you ever get Stockholm then Light would be overjoyed. You’d actually be allowed out on dates with him and go do stuff normal couples do.

• But of course, Anyone who looks in your direction for a little too long suddenly disappears. Anyone who dares to flirt with you is destroyed.

• Good luck with Light, He’s hard to deal with.

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turcott3 · 2 months

Text

off the table

charles leclerc x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, angst, kissing and fluff! (this is not edited apologies for any mistakes)

positions fics masterlist

~but i just wanna know is love completely off the table?~

your eyes fluttered open as the sun filled the las vegas hotel room. you roll to face away from the window and you’re met by a familiar sleeping face. the relationship you and charles had created was special but complex. you weren’t together. you’re primary relationship is sex and nights out together but it never extended beyond that. occasionally you received a grand prix invite, las vegas being one of them. he messed with your feelings often. one second it seems like he wants you and the other he’s leaning on a bar counter talking to another woman. you just let it happen because you wanted him, even if it does hurt you not knowing.

“good morning char.” you say quietly as the brunette stretches out and looks at you.

“good morning amour.” he smiles before getting up out of bed. you wanted to reach out and grab for him but you didn’t wanna push your limits. you yearned for him. all you wanted was to be his and his only, but it was starting to feel like too much to ask for. every day you’ve spent together, a bubble of anxiety grew in your chest.

“what time do we need to leave?” you call out.

“we have a few more hours no worries.” he smiles walking back into the bedroom and climbing back into bed, quickly nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“how many is a few more?” you giggle, scratching his scalp lightly.

“like four or something.” he says, his breath on your neck was hot and sent goosebumps all over your body.

“i need to get a shower okay?” you say and he pulls away after pressing a short kiss to your neck.

“okay, ill be here.” he smirks laying back on his side, scrolling on instagram. you enter the bathroom, grateful for the escape you just made. he made your mind spin. when he cuddles to you and kisses you, yet doesn’t care to want you is the mode confusing experience you’ve had. you let the warm water soak your body as you stood in your thoughts, tears pricking your eyelids. eventually you lost the fight and let the sobs wrack your body. all you wanted was answers. tearfully, you finished the shower and dried off, staring at your puffy face in the mirror.

“am i just not good enough?” you whisper to yourself. you walk out into the bedroom to grab clothes from your suitcase, avoiding looking in charles’ direction.

“y/n?”

“i’ll be out in a second.” you say shutting the door behind you. quickly, you slip on your clothes and hang your damp towels.

“y/n?” he asks again as you walk out.

“what?” you say, eyes still red and face still puffy.

“come sit, what is wrong?”

“i don’t know.” you lie sitting down next to him, not wanting to possibly ruin this trip.

“yes you do. tell me.” he pushes clearly wanting an answer.

“you confuse me charles. you confuse me so much and you’ve made me catch undeniably strong feelings for you but you confuse the fuck out of me. one second i think you may want me and then the next you’re talking to another woman. i’m just confused on why you wanted me here.” you express as lightly as possible.

“i do have feelings for you. i truly do y/n, i don’t want you to think that i don’t.”

“then why don’t you want me charles?”

“i do i just- im just so busy and stressed with the season i don’t want to have more things to keep up with. not that you don’t deserve the absolute best, i just don’t think i can give you what you deserve.”

“well i’m here right now aren’t i? i’ll come to every race, every event, everything. i am here for you and you only. i don’t want to get in your way so im trying my best to stay out of the way and id say ive done pretty well.” you add, tears falling once more and he nods.

“is love just not something you’re looking for right now? tell me baby.” you say as he pulls you into his lap, wiping your tears.

“it is. i don’t know why ive been pushing you away. you’re too good to me and i feel like if i can’t be 100% here then it won’t work and you deserve 100%.”

“i’m willing to try, only for you.” you say and he kisses you on the cheek.

“mon amour. you’re incredible.”

“so does this mean?”

“yes, it means you’re my girlfriend, i’m not even gonna ask i’m declaring it now.” he giggles and hugs you closely to his chest.

“look at us, newest couple on the grid.” you laugh.

“and arguably the best, sorry everyone else.” he says placing a light hand on your lower back.

“definitely the best.”

“carlos, this is my girlfriend y/n. you’ve met before but i figured i should re-introduce with the proper title.” charles giggles at his teammate.

“hello y/n, it’s great to re-meet you.” he smiles sticking his hand out to you which you gladly shake.

“it’s great to re-meet you too.”

“alright well baby, we got to get to it so, ill see you in a bit alright?”

“alright, good luck out there char.”

“thank you.” he smiles kissing you sweetly on the lips before walking off with his teammate.

“i was waiting for this day to come.” one of the staff says nudging you.

“really?” you giggle.

“yes, last race you weren’t there and he was like ‘i wish y/n was here, she makes me calm.’”

“how sweet.” you smile at the woman before she follows behind them.

guess love was never off the table.

sorry this is so short😭

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #turcs’ talk #f1 #f1 imagine

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mistkisbiggestfan · 5 months

Note

Oh my God.

I had a very funny and slightly strange idea...

Imagine that there is mutual sympathy between the reader and Jax. In short, Jax has crush on reader, but the reader... don’t know it.(or just don’t see it)

So, a new person appears in the circus. It doesn't matter who it is, what it is, what their name is, etc.

So, the newcomer and the reader became very close friends. I mean, sleeping in the same room, hugging, holding hands...(I mean friends, no lovers)

Look, I just want to see Jax get jealous, okay...?

Thank you🫶❤️

Jealous! Jax (Romantic) + Pomni (Platonic) / Gn! Reader

Jax (romantic), Pomni (platonic) / Gn! Reader

A/n: Back on the grind we go!! Hell YEAH!! I actually like how this turned out, hope you like it!! REQUESTS FOR TADC ARE OPEN!!!

Summary: Jax may or may not have a crush on you and be very much jealous of Pomni being your close friend. Words: 1448 Request: yup!

There was always a spark between you and Jax, surprising? Absolutely.

The thought that this deranged, unhinged, smooth rabbit man could ever feel such complex emotion as love was insane, at least to everyone except for you.

Sure he has some bad qualities, but that’s normal. (Get a grip bro this man is beyond saving /j)

He was here once you got into the circus, and that first time you met, both of you hit it off great! He was always smug and funny, but nothing too overboard. Of course everyone realized right off the bat, and Ragatha just came to you and was like: “How did you do it?”

You were confused, Jax was always like that! A bit silly, and very charismatic.

And so this feeling bloomed, but somewhere where none could see, not even you. You liked him a lot, surely, but he wasn’t the type to fall for a person, he was so sure of himself, you knew there was no chance of him swooning over someone, not like it’s a bad thing, but he wasn’t a type of person to beg for affection if it was to be taken away.

Or so you thought.

You let your crush take a backseat in this h#!! of a ride. But meanwhile, to Jax’s absolute demise and confusion, he found himself staring a bit too long, or laughing a bit too loudly at your jokes. He fell, definitely not first, but most definitely harder.

The thought process was quite simple really: “Absolutely no f*@/!n# way.”

But oh well, he’s 100 % the type of guy to try to impress you every chance he gets, even at the expense of others.

Not like he cares about others though.

What you might not realize is how under all that narcissistic and overall not the best person is someone who is like, very touch starved.

He would die to even hold hands, but just with you.

That pisses him off slightly, he never had such problems, and it’s not looking good.

He has a way with words, but not a way with emotions. That concept is foreign and very, unsettlingly new to him.

Then a newcomer comes around, a silly little jester – Pomni! Both of you become friends really fast, because unlike Jax, you’re actually one of two best comforters in the Digital Circus, the first-best being Ragatha.

That’s why Pomni always sticks with either you or Ragatha.

At first it wasn’t that much of a problem – You were good at putting others at ease – Jax knew that, and with time, he also knew that Pomni hated physical touch.

So when he saw you two hugging or anything like that? My man is pissed.

And it became an actual, apparent problem. Because the smaller jester stuck to you like glue, soon she was even sleeping with you in your room: “Because hers was too stuffy.” Yeah, he wasn’t buying that. (It was the truth tho lmao)

And when Caine brought it up one time, asking you and Pomni if you were dating?? Fuming, you could really see the smoke coming out of his ears.

Of course both of you quickly shut that down, saying that no, you weren’t dating, and were actually far from it.

Part of him wanted to accept that, why did he even care? The other part told him to fuck up Pomni’s mind to the point of abstraction, one sentence could destroy her so why not?

It wasn’t hard to catch on with his emotions, you saw him pull pranks which were just getting more and more cruel. And there was no way you could let that slide.

Especially since Pomni was coming to you for advice on love herself, since she had an eye on one, quite pretty ragdoll here in the circus.

– Good thing this is just a dream, right Pomni? – Jax elbowed the smaller jester, leaning over her, he watched the product of his words show off in the girl’s eyes, as her pupils became dark and disorganized scribbles. Both of them stood somewhere near your room, everything happening because Jax saw Pomni walking to yours again. And he wasn’t having that, so he decided to mess with the jester who was stealing your attention lately. Pomni stayed silent, making Jax snicker lightly, but something interrupted this $h!t show from going on further, light footsteps. The taller man turned around just to see you coming down the hallway, his smile widened. You focused your eyes on two figures before you. – Jax, Pomni! – You smiled at Jax, making him look away for just a second, before you turned to Pomni, smile turning into a frown. – Pomni? Finally stopping you looked at your friend who was visibly not doing so great. You spoke up again. – Hey Pomni, are you doing okay..? – The jester shook her head, breaking out of the trance, she looked at you, her pupils dilated. – What? Uh, yeah, you know what, I’m going to go. – She said quickly, before awkwardly speeding away from you two. You sighed and looked at Jax, who was smugly looking at you. – What did you tell her this time Jax? – You questioned tiredly, anticipating any reasonable response from the rabbit. He laughed. – Oh nothing much you know, just typical stuff. – His grin widened. – Jax. – You looked at him sternly, at times like this you wondered why you even liked him that much. That, seemingly brought him back to earth for a second. – Maybe something about this being a dream.. you know, just typical stuff. You knew how Pomni was, h#!! she told you herself. Poor little thing, she was battling so many emotions right now, especially since she fell for one of the circus members, just like you – which you could relate to. And know you were looking at him, wondering why? Looking at him, you mentioned for the rabbit to follow you. Finally, as both of you stepped into your room, you shut the door behind you and turned to him. – Jax, what’s up your @$$ lately? – You asked, mad. Well that was anything else he expected from you, seems like you caught on to what he was doing, he sighed still smiling smugly. – What do you mean? – You know what I mean. – You said, crossing your arms on your chest, looking up at him. – Not a single clue! – He played along, to a one sided game. You weren’t having that. And then out of all things you could’ve done, you managed to surprise him, catching his breath in his throat, why? Because out of all things you attacked the weakest part of him – His crippling touch starvation – You caught one of the straps to his overalls and pulled him down so you and the rabbit were on the same eye-level, faces dangerously close to each other. And as he felt your touch on his body, he felt something clicking in his at the moment thoughtless brain. But as soon as the touch came, it was gone, and he felt it linger long after you left the room, leaving him staring dumbfounded at one spot in front of him for far longer than what was deemed normal. And now he was left with two options, mess with your new friend and get all this newfound and surprisingly great but still negative attention, or apologize and somehow get you to touch him again. As he was leaving, walking along the halls towards his room to think, he saw Pomni down the hallway, she saw him too. She looked confused, caught up in this tricky territory called love, just like him. But this time, he decided to leave the jester be, which brought him one step closer to his new habit of longing for you and your touch.

Did he apologize to you? Yeah, if you can call it that. It was a typical, Jax fashioned, half–@$$ed apology, but only because his ego didn’t let him go as far as saying an actual sorry.

But he did change! Well, kind of. He was less obnoxious towards Pomni, and let her adjust to this new hellish life she was forcefully pulled into.

After noticing how the jester’s eyes literally turned to hearts when she looked at Ragatha, and when he overheard you giving love advice to her, he definitely gave up on making her abstract out of pure jealousy.

Instead, making it his goal to get you to touch him in any way, yes, he’s that desperate.

But that made you just more in love, he was actually (a little tiny bit) nice!!

Let’s just hope no new people come around, because jealous Jax is literally a walking death threat.

#requests open #request #please request #tadc pomni #x reader #pomni #ragatha #tadc jax #jax #the amazing digital circus jax #caine #the amazing digital circus #tadc #jax x reader #tadc x reader #tadc jax x reader

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pennyserenade · 3 months

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the devil hath power

part three: the victor

pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader, coriolanus snow x you, coriolanus snow x nameless reader (no use of y/n) rating: e (explicit, 18+) tags/warnings: power imbalance, sex work/prostitution, degradation, smut, explicit sex, a little bit of violence, roughness, blood tw, hate sex, protected sex, handjobs, oral (female receiving), fingering, a general evilness for coriolanus snow is NOT a good guy. i hate to tag this as Dark Coriolanus because i think that's just who he is, but i will do so for the sake of this. word count: 7.9k+ summary: Coriolanus Snow is always the victor in his games. Or is he? a/n: this series was lots of fun to write and i can only hope that you all enjoyed reading this half as much as i enjoyed making it. i'll kiss you on the nose if you decide to leave a nice comment and/or reblog this, but if you only like it that's okay, too; i'll think of you fondly for having followed me on this journey regardless. no beta because life is hard but i did my best here.

part one | part two

The party did not conclude as much as it transferred to another location.

Tigris and her friends had begun to talk of a new nightclub some time after the conversation in the living room, and the idea whisked them away in their states of bubbly inebriation. They had kindly invited her along, with Tigris in particular trying to make a strong case, but she’d declined, citing early morning obligations. On the way out, Tigris had whispered to her that Coriolanus was too important for fun–but asked if she wouldn't try and help him have it anyway, being his old friend? She had promised she would and Tigris had kissed her cheek with warm affection before leaving. Not for the first time that night she could hardly believe that Coriolanus was related to the woman.

It was just as well for Coriolanus that they all left sooner than expected. He held the door open as they scattered out, delivering his charming goodbyes, but after they all had gone his amicable smile faded significantly and his shoulders slumped from the relief.

“Don’t you like them?” she asked, observing from the corner.

He wetted his lips, turning his head towards her. “Do you?”

“I’d say so, yes.”

“Of course you do. They’re fools.”

She wasn’t surprised by his turn of attitude. In fact, she felt more at ease when he was like this: transparently mean. It felt less frightening to know what she was up against.

“Even Tigris?” she inquired.

“Of course not Tigris,” he answered irritably. He pushed his frame off the wall and straightened himself out. “She’s just vulnerable to those types of people. It’s not her fault.”

“Those types of people?” As far as she could tell, they’d all been fairly well-rounded individuals. Their only fault had been curiosity, maybe overfamiliarity, but she considered that much better than what he gave off: Pomposity, contempt, a coldness when he did not think to mask it. Coriolanus could be charming–she observed this multiple times throughout the night, as he had conducted side conversations and finished off stories–but he never seemed to strike anyone as sincere. She could sense that, could feel it in the way they talked to him, not like an old friend, but like a teacher. He wasn’t like Tigris. She was lovely.

Coriolanus did not entertain the conversation any longer, though. He instead took the needle off the record that had been playing softly in the background for some time, stopping the music in the middle of a song. It was then that her thoughts spun back to her music box—how abruptly, almost violently, he had shut it when they were inside her room–and her stomach began to churn. It wasn’t nerves; it was far more complex than that. His eyes seemed to beckon her closer, to draw her in.

Despite what she had said, she had hoped maybe all Coriolanus had intended to do was flaunt her around the party, to show her the life she could have if she worked hard enough for it. That had been foolish; she was experienced enough to know with men like him it never stopped anywhere innocuous as that. He looked up at her like he expected a performance.

“Finally down to two,” she said, sitting her near-empty wine glass on one of his ornate bookshelves. “Anything else you’d like to do while I’m still on the clock?”

He laughed mirthlessly, working the knot in his tie. “Is that all you think about?”

She watched him as he had her that first night: intent, serious, a spectator to a life she could not quite imagine, nor one she exactly envied. “I don’t know—is there something else I should be thinking about?”

He eyed her as she moved closer, almost as if he intended for her to pounce. His grin was derisive. “I don’t know–don’t you have your own thoughts?” he answered brusquely.

“I do, but I don’t think you’d like them very much, Mr. Snow,” she retorted. She could sense that he was not entirely in a good mood now–could see it in the tense way he held his frame, see it in the hardness of his azure eyes–but she wasn’t sure he ever was. At least not in her company.

“I can leave as soon as you give me my money,” she added.

“Thought you said you weren’t an escort,” he sneered. She watched as his fingers undid his cufflinks. They fell with a clatter on the table before him, disregarded with an unfettered ease. She knew they probably cost more than most people could ever hope to make in a lifetime in the Districts. If she stole them, would he notice?

“I’m not, but you’ve made it abundantly clear that you’re well above paying for sex.”

“What? The game get too trying for you?” Coriolanus clicked his tongue. Though his words took on a more playful tone, his voice did not. “You almost had me convinced last week that you were a worthy playmate. So stubborn, so adamant. I thought to myself for a moment that I was lucky you were only a whore and not something as substantial as my classmate.”

Her eyes grew hard, despite herself. “So why are you trying to make me into something you so wholly believe I’m not?” she asked. “I don’t appreciate being left in the dark, Mr. Snow. In my line of business, it is best when all the cards are left on the table. When they are not I have the habit of leaving.”

He seemed to consider this as he opened the three buttons on his dress shirt. Already he had slung his suit jacket over the chair. “I’m not entirely fond of deception, either,” he said finally.

“I didn’t say anything about deception.”

“But I did. And you—“ he pointed a finger in her direction, “—know what you do is a bunch of thinly-veiled deception. I’ll tell you this: I think you could be an asset to me. You proved it tonight more than ever, with that charming little story about your Peacekeeper husband. You’re as quick on your feet as I’m sure you are on your back.” He quirked a mean grin. “But I’ll also say this: I also don’t like being left in the dark. If we are to work together the way I hope we will, I want to know your every thought as soon as you think it. I don’t care how banal.”

More than Coriolanus Snow liked conducting games, it seemed he liked winning them with an unfair advantage. Her lips twitched, daring to press into a grin. He didn’t find this amusing.

“You think I’m joking,” he gruffed.

“Quite the contrary.” She laughed, but it was more exasperated than mocking. “I think you’re serious. It’s just that you’re so goddamn predictable. You try to act above those men who come to me but you want what many of them do: power and control.”

The table that separated them lifted ever so slightly as he leaned his frame nearly all the way across it. “Of course I do,” his voice was rough. He was a frightening man when he wanted to be. She stumbled back. Anyone would’ve. “You do too. Don’t think I don’t notice just as much as you do.”

To make up for her temporary faltering and to show she was not intimated - though in truth she did wonder if maybe she ought to be - she leaned forward too, so close their noses nearly brushed. He smiled a wicked little grin that sent shivers down her spine. “You make me as sick as I make you. How's that for a thought?” she said.

No venom, no bitterness, just a fact. Her pulse quickened. For a flash, she considered the fact that he could very well kill her. That no one might know it. Was he capable of that?

She felt his breath fan across her cheek, warm, scented like roses. “I like you better like this. None of that doe-eyed, temptress act. Your fluttering eyelashes got you through the door, but only because I wanted to know more about what’s up here.”

She glowered. “You act high and mighty, Coriolanus, but I saw the tent in your pants last week. I know you liked it.”

Her mouth ghosted over his own, teasing, but he didn’t move; he smirked, brushing his nose against her cheek, daring her. Challenging her. A far cry from the Coriolanus of weeks past. His past words echoed in her mind, the gravity of them weighing on her for the first time: The game will be different next time.

She could not lose.

“You’re a petulant child, so afraid of what you don’t understand, contrary to what you say,” she whispered coldly, “And you want to fuck me so badly it terrifies you and you’re ashamed of yourself.”

He connected their lips; it was chaste, brief before he drew back. It surprised her, and she had to work hard to pretend it hadn’t. “You think that if I do, it’ll ruin me.” Another chaste kiss. “Maybe it might, but what of you? What if you like it? Could you live with yourself?”

Her eyes pressed close. The smell of roses was pungent but there was a heady scent mixed in with it; the sour-sweet smell of a clean sweat, of worry, of a long, long day. There too was alcohol. She had watched him consume a glass or two. She was sure she could take him on if need be. Certain that she had the willpower, the strength, to outdo him once more. “I’ve done far worse things and lived with it,” she whispered.

Snow’s fingertips grazed against her jawline. His eyes bore into hers when she opened them for him. “I believe that.”

Maybe it was meant to come across as condemnatory but it landed in a cushioned awe, wrapped in the quiet reverence belonging to a man who badly wants something he shouldn’t have. And he took it, his long fingers wrapping around the tantalizing column of her neck, pressing gently, an act of possession as his lips enveloped her own. There was no hesitation, no strain; he opened his mouth and she allowed his tongue to separate her lips. He tasted of roses, of wine, earthy and decadent, his lips plush and smooth as they moved hungrily against her own.

She was the one who pulled back first, searching for air, allowing his nose to bump against the tip of hers as he lurched forward for more. His eyes were closed but he still possessed enough of himself to laugh humorlessly at the impossibility of what was happening. It did feel like victory, albeit a small one. She kissed him again, hoping he felt the drip of regret straight down to the swell of his groin. Hoped he’d feel it for decades, that he’d remember this as vividly as she would: his thighs pressed into the wooden table, his fingers in her hair, on her jaw, on her neck, his want, thick and palpable - embarrassing - as he leaned closer for more, more, more.

He tugged her closer by the lapels of her jacket. There was no protest, not even the muffled sound of self-satisfaction as she crawled her way to him across the table. He held it down with his weight and watched expectantly as she came to sit before him. It was better this way, she told herself, so close. His pupils were blown wide, his lips red and bruised, whatever lipstick she might’ve still been wearing smudged against his. Even his carefully styled hair had begun to unravel. She could feel the full heat of his desire as her legs bracketed his waist.

“When I first began asking about you—“ Coriolanus’ fingers fiddled with the buttons on her blazer. She let him, leaning back on her arms, a present to be unwrapped. “—there was this man. Let’s call him Vitus.” The first button popped open, and he moved diligently to the next one. “I go to university with Vitus. He’s a wealthy young man, and arrogant, so it’s no surprise he’s on your list. Vitus spoke highly of you, but not kindly.” The other button broke open, revealing the bit of flesh before her breasts. He could see a peak of black, of sheer lace, and she watched as he reevaluated his expectations.

“Vitus,” she reminded softly. He shifted his eyes up. They were dark and unreadable. “Vitus—” he echoed, nodding. The third button slipped free. “—said you were a whore who got down on your knees for him. You sucked his cock so well that he shook. Said that was the best head he ever got, that you swallowed it down your pretty throat and left lipstick marks on his cock.”

Coriolanus’ lips twitched, as though this fact pained him. She furrowed her eyebrows, surprised by the way the words seemed to disturb him—as if he was angry that she had been with other men. He pushed her blazer open and draped it over her shoulders. His head drooped down and he took one of her nipples, which was clothed behind the sheer cup of her bra, and scraped it between his teeth.

She shuddered, one hand coming to his hair. Before it could, he pressed it back down onto the table forcefully. Her body got progressively more rigid beneath his.

“Another man said your cunt was tight.” He stared up at her with unfeeling eyes. “Tight. He said that word exactly. He was so vapid. He said you liked him. That you came on his cock not once but twice, and that you rode him until your knees gave out. And do you want to know what I asked them to get those responses?” Coriolanus pressed his lips gently on the place before her bra began. He began kissing downwards, right over the fabric. By her belly-button, he said, “If they knew who you were. Nothing else.”

He pressed warm, open-mouthed kisses at the waist of her pants. She pushed back the fawn of hair that fell over his eyes and he let her. Looking down at him, feeling the ghost of his lips, the presence of his breath against her skin, she realized he intended for her to comment.

“That doesn’t embarrass me,” she answered mildly. “I can’t stop what people choose to say about me.”

Coriolanus rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think it would. That wasn’t the point.” He began to undo the button on her pants now, too. “The point is that I wanted you to know—“ The button came loose and he carefully undid her zipper, falling to his knees before her. It was more reverent of a move that she would have figured he’d make. He nudged her exposed skin with the cold tip of his nose, letting his tongue trace lightly at the beginning of her transparent underwear. “—however well you did it for them, I want it twenty times better. This will be your best performance yet.”

His fingers gripped the underside of her thighs and he tugged her forward so abruptly, it caught her off guard. Her head rattled against the wood of the table. “Fuck!” she hissed through her teeth, her foot pushing outward to fling him back in retaliation. It worked; he jolted, his body falling flat onto the floor.

Her breath quickened, her body adjusting to the adrenaline now coursing through it. As rose on her elbow to inspect the damage, she frowned. Coriolanus sat before her, running his thumb against the bottom of his lip. When he inspected his fingers, he was overcome with quiet astonishment. They both were. There was a red droplet smeared on his finger, the blood fresh. The sight of it thrilled her. It did. She was not sorry to admit that. She only worried how he would take it, how he would respond. If he called someone, anyone important, she could be in trouble. What she did was not exactly legal.

“Coriolanus—“ she began apologetically. He rose a hand to shut her up. It was like blood on snow, the cream white of his hand smeared with the dark red of his blood. How ironic.

He rose to his feet, laughing coldly as he tongued the spot on his lip. It wasn’t terrible, but it’d be an injury he couldn’t hide. People would ask about it. She began to cower, drawing her knees up the closer he came to her.

“There’s no reason to be scared,” he assured, though the frenzied look in his eyes didn’t put her much at ease. His bloodied finger wrapped around one of her ankles. It melted in the fabric, but would no doubt stain later when it faded to rusty brown. This suit would be ruined. She tried her best to remain calm. She had survived worse. She was always surviving.

“What’s a little blood in a good game between friends?” he spoke levelly. The blood dribbled slowly down his chin and he let it.

She swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to—not like that. I just meant to—“ she sputtered. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No you’re not. What did I say about us not deceiving each other?”

His voice was low, angry, his eyes piercing. She carefully watched his fingers on her ankle, anticipating his next move. They remained still, loose. “Maybe I deserved it,” he went on, laughingly. “What’s the saying—an eye for an eye? Maybe that just makes us even.”

Before the blood trickled down to his white shirt, she moved forward to stop it, as if this would absolve what she’d done—helping him. It was just a dribble, barely anything at all. He flinched, though, when she lurched forth to wipe it. He pinched her wrist between his fingers.

Coriolanus inspected the spot on her finger like he had his own, his lips attempting to twitch into something resembling a smile. It was unsettling, and she was happy when she pulled back and he let her. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her softly again. He let go of her ankle.

She stared into his eyes until they finally became penetrable again. After she nodded in quiet acquiescence, Coriolanus took her hand back. He looked her in the eyes, wrapped his warm mouth around her two blood-stained fingers and moaned. It was so lewd, so unlike anything she could’ve imagined him doing, and she couldn’t help but show her shock; she yelped as his tongue grazed between her fingers.

Her slack jawed reaction offered him the reprieve he needed to get them back on track; his lips slid off her fingers and he pulled her closer, guiding her into another kiss. She could taste cooper on his tongue more than she could his roses now. This was against her rules, anything with blood, but it felt hard earned, like a reward on her part more than his.

Coriolanus took advantage of the fact that her slacks were unbuttoned and slid his hand down between their bodies. He spread his fingers through the patch of hair she had teased him with on that ill fated night, when he had come so close to giving in to her, reveling in the fact that he had her now. And it did feel like exactly that: like he had her, like a bird in a cage. He had her beneath his touch, he had her wearing the clothes he’d picked out, in the house of his own making, wearing the very blood she’d drawn from his lip. Even the slight pulsating feeling that resided there still only added fuel to the fire that she’d awoken in him.

She was a terrible thing, and he saw it in her eyes when she’d kicked him back—that frightening jolt of excitement that came from the illicit. The fact that she hated him, that he could see it in her eyes as clearly as he had been able to derive anything else from her, did not bother him. It comforted him. She was no Lucy Gray. Not even throwing poor Lucy Gray in an arena to fight to the death could make her half as jaded as the woman beneath his touch. She had done worse and lived through it. Yes, he believed her.

The simple truth of it was that if she wasn’t a whore and destitute, he’d marry her in a heartbeat. While Livia Cardew was a wonderful choice, and one he was close to sealing the deal on, Livia wasn’t like this woman. He knew that there would never be a danger of loving either of them, that his heart could never open the way it had for Lucy Gray for anyone so cold and cynical. But he knew, unlike with Livia, he could delight in life with this one—that she could make him better, not for all her surrender, but the process of wearing her down to it. He pictured it: the Presidential Palace of his dreams, expansive and grand, and her lying in a four-poster bed waiting for him after a long day in red silk sheets, wearing nothing but this black transparent set. When he entered her it would not be a chore, or something given, but a game hard won—and he knew she’d like it too, that the defeat would fill her with comfort because she knew the depths of true exhaustion and it wouldn’t be like that. He’d seen the hollowed home of hers, knew she lived through the Dark Days just as well as the rest of them and recovered about as well as his family had. To lose his game would be nothing; he’d cloth her and feed her and fuck her full of heirs no matter what.

He wouldn’t want Livia to do this. She wouldn’t do it half as well. There was a vulnerability to this woman that Livia Cardew didn’t possess, a vulnerability she tried hard to forge into strength and almost succeeded at. It was thrilling to watch, to see her hold her head up so assuredly beneath his hard gazes, to watch the devastating power she possessed when she needed something badly enough. He hated her but she no longer disgusted him; she thrilled him. He’d be happy to play this game every day for the rest of his life—would be pleased to shed blood for something as giving as this pursuit. He’d done more for less.

Her cunt was hot and wet, and rubbing a single finger through it relieved him more than he would readily communicate. But he didn’t have to; he slumped into her, gave way. She gripped at his arms, let him swallow her breathy little moans into his mouth as he teased over her core with his fingertip. He knew that when he entered her, it would change something—ruin him, maybe, the way she’d forecasted—and he didn’t yet want to do it. A part of him would lose and would remain lost forever, and he wasn’t ready to contend with that truth yet.

He gathered her slick on his fingers and began to grind down on her clit. Slowly at first, letting her adjust to the feeling, then quickly, delighting wholly in the way she couldn’t help but tighten her grip on his arms.

Coriolanus was not a man who liked self-imposed ignorance. After returning from District 12, he’d begun to undertake his study in sexuality, with nearly as much ardor as he had his education. He and Lucy Gray never had done anything beyond kissing and heavy petting. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to—he’d wanted to wait until she seemed eager, ready, when they could be alone, away from the Covey, from Sejanus—but it never worked out. He understood it to be for the best. If they had he’d probably be tethered to the foolish notion that sex had to mean something. When he got back, Coriolanus took to the female attention that had been directed towards him for much longer than he had wished it to be. It had started with Clemensia, for he had known he could trust her for her frankness and he found her to be the prettiest.

He knew what he was doing now—had undertaken many hours in the laboratory of women’s intricate, often complex forms. Sometimes men, too, he wasn’t ashamed to admit. There was nothing he did not want to know—especially about himself. Lucy Gray had taken him by surprise because he’d made the mistake of being unknowing, of not having a strong sense of his character and a fluid purpose. He worked through that, saw himself out to the other side: he knew what he liked, who he liked, when he liked it.

Well, mostly. She surprised him, but that was perfectly fine because he was solving this too, wasn’t he?

Her nails dug crescent shaped indentations into the pale of his skin, nearly cutting enough to draw blood again, but not quite. He nuzzled against her throat with his nose, taking to the sting of it. He went faster on her clit, harder. “You can never just play nice, can you?” he husked. He nipped alongside the edge of her jaw, ignoring the ache in his lip. “You’re so fucking wet. You like this. Like my blood on your tongue and my hands down the front of your pants. Makes you feel powerful doesn’t it?”

She covered his mouth with one of her hands, her face contorting into a fine pleasure-pain expression that sent jolts right down to his cock. He could tell she was close, that she was going to come any second based on the way she was drawing her legs together—or at least trying to. Her grip was fierce on his arm and she was uncaring of the wound she had given him, pressing her palm to it. If she drew fresh blood, he wouldn’t be surprised. Wouldn’t mind. He’d lick it from her palm, too.

He finally relented when he felt she was getting too close, and he sunk a single finger into her, keeping his thumb pressed steadily onto her clit as he did. She moaned, loud and audacious, her entire body arching up into him. With his free hand, he gripped her chin hard and, shaking off her hand from his face, pushed his lips into hers. She came, her fingers tugging on his hair, her nails clawing at his arm, her tongue touching his, exploring, tasting, lingering.

And then she slumped against him, sated and out of breath. He smirked, though she could not see it. This was his victory, and a sweet victory it was. Here she was: docile, collasped in his arms, pleased because he had made her so.

When he felt she had had enough time to recuperate, he took his finger from the welcomed heat of her cunt and placed it on her tongue. It did not shock her the way he thought it might’ve—the way he would’ve liked. She wrapped her lips around it without a second thought, drawing it in deeper, her eyes latching seductively onto his. His cock twitched at the sight and at the feel of it, knowing that she was tasting of herself and without a hint of shame or remorse coloring her. Good Capital girls weren’t ever so bold. It took awhile to get them to do things like this, or to even admit that they might like the idea of it.

And she knew he liked it—that what had been plebeian before now seemed desirable as he explored and touched and undid. The state she found herself in was not an unprecedented outcome as much as it was a detour. She would still end up where she had intended to be in the beginning. Coriolanus was better than she would’ve thought he could’ve been, sure, but it did not detract from the fact that at his core he was fundamentally the same as the rest of them. That in his eyes, which burned wildly of passion, and his mind, which no doubt thought single-mindedly of success, was like that of a million others before him. Unexceptional in his perceived exceptionalism.

She took her mouth off of him, sucking her cheeks so hollowly around his finger that she made a sweet popping sound. Coriolanus was like a spectator. That’s the best way she could perceive him: as an audience, taken completely with her and her unpredictability, hanging onto the edge of his seat, wondering what on earth she would do next. His eyes followed her movements closely. She thought of his Games—the one with the tributes that could be bet on, and watched constantly—and she wondered how much different this was to that for him. How sick of a man was he? Where was the line, as he asked her? Did he know it?

She guided his hand down to her chest. This he seemed to understand, taking the lead, catching her pebbled nippled against his palm as he massaged one of her breasts. She shrugged off the blazer—which had scarcely been hanging on for a while now—and tugged down her bra impatiently, exposing more of herself to him. He took the opportunity to lean his head down again. Coriolanus ran the flat of his tongue against one of her nipples, while squeezing the other between his fingers. The nature of it bordered on painful but he never committed to it, edging her up to the slight sting of too much pressure and then coaxing her out of it, sucking, rubbing lightly.

His lips were glossy when he perched up to kiss her. She smiled. “You’re awful agreeable when your cock is hard—though I guess I knew it would be. I think that’s why you hate whores like me: we excite you to the state of pliability.”

He took her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged at the flesh. “You’d like to think that,” He kissed over the spot, tending it with an affection that didn’t belong to him. It felt borrowed, stolen, an amusing role he was trying to fill out as not to startle her with the true depth of his cruelty. “I hate what you do but I understand it, don’t you see? I told you as much before. You whores — as you so crassly put it — are like a small stain on a good piece of fabric: some you can hide better than others.”

She yanked roughly at his hair, drawing a hiss from his lips. But his grin did not fade. “What does that make you, then?” she retorted, “With your cock hard for me? Paying to finger me?”

She palmed him through his slacks and Coriolanus let out a shuddery breath, shocked by the sudden relief of it. His next response was amused, his voice lighter. “But you’re not like other whores are you? There’s a hierarchy and you’re at the top of yours. The finest quality. If there’s ever a cunt to sink into, it’s yours—“ His eyes rolled back as she unzipped his slacks and slid her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. Her fingers gripped tightly around his base and his nose brushed against hers as he leaned into her touch, his palms flattening on the table. “—fuck.”

With her free hand she propped him up, laughing against his shoulder. “Oh, Coriolanus,” she purred against the shell of his ear. His shaft was leaking pre-cum and she rubbed some of it down his cock, taking note of his response to her grip; the way the muscles in his neck fluctuated, how his hips bounced back and forth, how his breathing labored. Her teeth tugged on his earlobe. “You ought to get a condom, before you make a mess of yourself in your slacks. I can tell you want it so bad, Coryo.”

His hand gripped her throat. “Don’t call me that,” he said, his voice low—ringing serious, desperate. She didn’t listen.

“Coryo, please,” she begged. His cock twitched in her hand and his hand tightened on her throat, threatening. It was a warning. She wanted to ruin him—wanted him to think about her forever, wanted to hate her as badly as she felt she hated him—but she couldn’t let him finish like this. She needed him inside of her, the truest defeat.

“I’ll show you how good I can be,” she coaxed, her tugs on his cock becoming more lingering. From the tip to the base, slow and teasing. He was decently sized. more girth than he was length. She was happy he knew what foreplay was. “I’ll show you how good we can be, and that’s what you really want, isn’t it? To know that I can submit to you as you’ve to me? And I can, Coryo.”

His eyes pressed closed. She kissed the side of his mouth. “You don’t want what those men want, do you? Not even in a better form. You want more from me. Something I’ve never given them. Isn’t that right?” She kissed him fully on the lips now and he let her—even opened his mouth to accept her tongue against his. A man heavily seduced. “I bet you’d like to fuck me with nothing on, wouldn’t you?”

She knew what he wanted. She needed him to say it to. To admit it for the both of them. His eyes looked so light, almost crystal, when he opened them again. He swallowed hard. “You’re such a cunt.”

“You’re not paying me to lie to you. You’re paying for my every thought, isn’t that right?” She gripped his cock tighter in her hand and he sucked in a breath through his gritted teeth. “I think you want to tell me what you’re thinking so badly it’s killing you. You shouldn’t be afraid of it, not anymore. We’ve already come so far. A little farther won’t kill you.”

“Such a dirty wh—“

“You told me, you said however banal the thought—“

“I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing anything. You’re just afraid of it—the depth of your want.”

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. He rutted into her hand, the warmth of it beyond relieving after so much of nothing. She let him. As his hips pushed into her, into the table, she watched how the desperation took hold of him. Coriolanus' breathing became labored. She wondered how long it had been—if he denied himself this pleasure. He gripped tightly onto the edge of the table, drawing closer and closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

With an almost sickening amount of satisfaction, she let go of his cock. Coriolanus rutted into nothing with a harsh grunt, his head bouncing into her shoulders as he realized what she’d done and began to sag from the betrayal.

He gripped her face between his hands. “You think you’re so very clever—and you are—but you won’t win this. Not against me.” He squished up her cheeks, drew her closer to his face. His patience had thinned. “I’m not like those bastards you fool around with. Everyone knows you don’t fuck whores without a condom—even the most cunning ones. Don’t play the cards you don’t have because it’s beneath you,” he growled out before letting her go.

She watched with mild curiosity as he stalked away from her. It was an act she found equal parts amusing and hypocritical. He reminded her of a wounded animal, snapping at whatever it perceives to be a threat in blind rage.

“You like the game, don’t you, Coriolanus?” she asked him lightly.

He peered at her over his shoulder. “I have always liked the making of it more than I liked the playing of it.”

He had retreated back to his clinical tone; measured, calculated, clipped. She gathered her composure and slid off the table. He tensed beneath her when she wrapped herself around his torso, and his hands gripped onto her own. But he did not push her away. He was warm, still flushed from his desire, and she knew he did not have it in him to deny her. His cock was hard, leaking, and he allowed himself the room to want this. To imagine it. They were too far into this now.

She laid her head against his back and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. She slid her hand beneath the cool fabric. Her fingers explored the hardened expanse of his chest, dipped down to his abs teasingly. His heart hammered away in his chest—perhaps the most honest thing about him. His body began to ease, unintentionally, back into her own, and she undid the few remaining buttons on his dress shirt. He let it fly open.

Coriolanus turned around. He kissed her suddenly, and it wasn’t like before—not rough, but almost tender, all consuming. “I think we should go to my bedroom in case Tigris comes back. Sometimes she does that,” he whispered against her lips.

“Lead the way,” she responded. And he did.

Coriolanus’ room was luxurious, but sensible; it was obvious from the design it was a space meant to be slept in rather than inhabited: the four poster bed, the orange hued lamps, the heavy drawn curtains. Everything was the best quality, but it was plain, almost antiquated. Like hers, if she could have his money.

He didn't put much stock in how she felt about the room, though. When the door shut, they resumed their working relationship. He eased her out of the slacks and she relieved him of his shirt; he unlatched her diaphanous bra, and she tugged on his pants; he shimmed the underwear off her hips and he stepped out of his for her without protest, without thought. They were naked in seconds and seemed to understand each other better for it. She laid down on his bed and he stood at the foot of it.

His cock, which had begun to soften, sprung back to life now without aid. He touched his cock in lazy strokes, noncommittal but desperate. He did have a good looking cock, velvet soft and veiny. A terrible thing for a man so evil, so repressed, to be gifted with something like that. “No more tricks,” he demanded.

She opened her legs, the air of the room cool against her wet core. “No more tricks,” she echoed. Coriolanus devoured her before he touched her.

He moved methodically to the desk in the corner of his room. The condoms were stored in the second drawer, wrapped in gold. Before she could offer to help him put one on, he was already undoing the wrapper and lining himself up to the latex. She watched curiously as he did it. He was stately about it, not coltish or inelegant. In this way, he was unmatched. Men usually bowed to their desires but it seemed he led a disciplined existence. He was too important for fun.

Her stomach began to flutter with the anticipation of it. It was a betrayal, but not one she couldn’t contend with. Not one that she hadn’t before, in fact. This was how the body worked. This was work. This meant nothing.

“Are you wet enough?” he asked.

“I’d say so. I must say, you surprised me.” After a pause, she added, “You surprise me. Present tense.”

His smirk was unmistakable and predicted. “Isn’t it nice, not fucking men like Vitus? Don’t you see what a life you could have if you work for me?”

“Yes,” she cooed. Pliant, sated, prepared beautifully on his satin sheets. A dream he had long awaited and one he wanted so badly it would terrify him if he didn’t understand it throughly.

Coriolanus crawled between her thighs. He kissed her again, hard, urgent, and she responded in kind, sucking at the end of his tongue, tugging on his now unruly hair. His cock rested on the curve of her stomach, present, aching, seemingly growing harder by the minute. He worked hard not to rub against her. He refused to hump against her like some goddamn puppy who knew no better.

“Now,” she whispered. He nodded in assent. It was all done by his permission, by his standards. Her hand wrapped around his cock and she guided him to her core, but it was he who pushed in. He who teased the tip, he who slid so slowly that both of their bodies drew in a rigid sigh, he who bottomed out and he who drew up one of her legs to go a little deeper still.

He needed her and there was a certain release to being able to admit that. It was encouraging. It made him throb inside of her. They looked at one another, breathed in the scent of their sex, and it began. Coriolanus drew back his hips, then pressed forward. His movements were harsh but steady. He delighted in the way she looked up at him like that: like he was fucking her and she felt it, really felt it. And fuck, she was wet, so wet that he could hear it. His cock was a welcome entity inside of her; she clenched around him, seeming to urge him in, begging him to stay.

An unspeakable thing grew inside of him. The thing she had been right about. The thing that terrified him. His head hung and he watched the way his cock glistened with her slick, how it entered and exited out of her. “You’re mine,” he growled. It came from within and sounded frail. And it was. It belonged to a version of him he did not like. A version of him he could seldom control. He did not do this much anymore and it was for good reason. He had learned what he had needed to.

She gave a beautiful performance, though. Bleary-eyed with want, convincing as she raised her hips to meet him—like she might need this half as badly as he did. “Yes,” she answered. He hated her.

You hate her. You hate her. He repeated it like a mantra, his hips snapping into hers based on the unvaried rhythm of it. And he did hate her. She was a whore and she was a good one. His arms bracketed her head and said it. “I hate you.”

“Fuck,” was her response. Fuck. His cock pounded inside of her and she moaned. Her nails began to dig into his skin again. This he liked most of all. The nobility of having shed blood had grown on him since he had first killed a person.

He brought up the other leg. She gasped. It could not be any easier to push inside of her than it was now. God she was wet. He began to grind inside of her. She drew blood on his back. The sting of it was a relief. Penance. Fuck.

He didn’t bother with making her come. He thought about it but he felt she didn’t need to. Not again. He was paying her for this. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, not for someone like her. To come inside of her because of his own thoughts was one thing but to come because she did, because she was trembling with her own want and he liked it—

He came. His body went slack and it surprised them both. She wrapped her hands in his hair as he collapsed into her body, and he could feel the heavy thud of heart. Or maybe that was his. It was hard to tell where one began and one ended during these things. He hated that most of all.

Coriolanus drew out of her as soon as he could. He was not embarrassed. He was startled, but not embarrassed. It felt cleansing. But then he did something unforgivable. He did not leave her with her legs parted, did not watch with scorn as she laid in the filth of her occupation. Did not hate her because of what she was but rewarded her for it.

Her gasp was as genuine when his tongue parted her folds. He ate her out in earnest, his eyes watching the way his tongue made her react. When she played with her nipples, so unabashed about what she wanted, he put his mouth on her clit and sucked. He did want her to come. Because of him. For him. Her hips jerked and he followed along with the movements.

She tasted vaguely of him, but acidic, tangy, dangerous, too. Her fingers raked through his hair, and he entered two fingers inside of her. Clemmie used to like this. Livia would, too. He was good at it.

“Oh, Coriolanus,” she whined. He hummed against her and the vibration reached her core. She shook and tugged and pleaded, her hips doing their best to get away, but he wouldn’t let them. He felt her clinch around his fingers. “Coriolanus,” she gasped. She came once, twice. Three times would be too indulgent. This is where he drew the line.

He fell to her side with a heaving chest. They were both too warm, spent, surprised by the extent of what they had done to speak about it. In his mind he was building her a cage, and she was already searching for the key next to him.

After a while, he turned to her. She did not look at him but continued to stare blankly at the ceiling. “How much?” he asked her. It felt customary.

She wanted to say: More than you can give. She wanted to say: Everything you’ve got. She wanted to say: I will tell you no secrets, I won’t help you, I hate you. But she didn’t. She thought of home, what remained of it, and she said: “More than the first time.”

She was nothing like him but one did not need to be Coriolanus Snow to understand this: money was king, and he who had the most was the winner.

But she understood something far better than he did. She had taken something from him he hadn’t intended to give, and that was something money could not buy. His blood was beneath her fingernails. His cuff links were in the pocket of her blood stained suit. Tomorrow she would begin to make her house right again. Tomorrow she would tell him what she knew about the men she slept with—all of it. Turn them all against each other, hopefully, ruin the whole damn empire. Maybe she would steal something else, eat his food, fuck him again, see how far she could go before he noticed how much of his life she usurped. Would he begin to blur the line between performance and reality? She was sure he might. Already he had his hand on her wrist, tracing lightly against it.

He was the winner but now she was out for more than just a single victory. This was war and she was choosing her battles wisely.

Looking in his direction, she turned her lips up almost imperceptibly into a grin. Her eyes were soft, still teary from the sex. He seemed…at ease. Sated.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“This opportunity,” she said warmly. “I know it’s going to change things for me. I can see that.”

In his eyes it appeared: the propensity for being needed. He smiled, too. “It will,” he told her.

Yes, she was the victor and the crown had yet to feel heavy.

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