#At least one side of my bed should touch a wall | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astralnymphh · 3 days ago

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WELL. F MY LIFE THEN. JUST F IT. now i have to indulge in a commentary reblog.. we know i only do this with masterpieces such as the one i'm about to ramble under.. here we go! gracie has gone and done it again.. my descent to madness is evident in each comment made

Her bed was made. That’s the first thing you noticed when you crept into her space.

ugh this eerie symbolism.. like it's such a simple thing (AESTRA TRY NOT TO BE INFATUATED WITH SIMPLICITY CHALLENGE) but at this time and in this story, it digs a deeper meaning. just the observation of aberration and shiftings within a room someone has been rotting in. it curdles in the spine quite hauntingly. very nicely done!!!

After walking into that room in the ski lodge and seeing her and Joel bloodied and battered, you cannot get the metallic taste to go away. Everything you ate tasted like it.

this too!! like hello?? memories stippling so hard into one that it affects the other senses.. i can, like, feel the torment beaming off this little paragraph; the torture of a vision, and now an abnormal taste no one should know. jesus..

She finally changed out of the socks that were partially soaked with blood.

THIS!! JUST LIKE THE FIRST PARAGRAPH! it's so simple but put so oddly that it creates this whole other background.. it's like a storm slowly brewing. it does accentuate and ascend to ellie deciding that she wants revenge (Hah. Like the band), because she is finally lifting herself from the rot that leeched. nothing can motivate a person besides an idea. a desperate, destructive idea.

It’s like a release that you have been waiting for. She starts to cry, the air escaping her lungs as she heaves to let out another sob.

whenever i hear that someone is releasing what they've "bottled up" i tend to view it as a purely emotional thing and not a physical thing that you see besides crying. but it's everything that makes up the cry. the air, the breath, the upwards movement of extrication, the squeezing of warmth in your eyes. truly an art in itself to nail crying in a written form. makes ellie feel so much more human.

She grips onto you like you're the axis to keep her world spinning.

jesus cunt.. jiminy christmas.. what else am i supposed to say but JESUSSSS.. POETRY..

Her malicious and unhinged behavior was beginning to frighten you a bit.

THIS IS SO REAL THO?? IT JUST IS?? i'm so finitely sure this is a part of what dina felt at times. like, oh my god. to not watch your lover transform—but to watch your lover transformed, and to have missed this change in the blink of an eye. when had this monstrosity begun, and how deep does it go? thank you gracie for having such a blessedly perfect understanding of ellie from a lover's perspective!!

You watched her twist it and rip it out the side, their blood splattering all over the wall. When the man collapsed, she simply tucked her weapon into her sheath and kept moving. It was so brutal and unnecessary, but she kept telling you they deserved it.

same as this one. to see this twisting of a woman, and understand immediately that she is wrong; she is not correct nor incorrect, but she is in the tooth too deep, rotting it to a point of loss, what she needs the least. she wants to find and serve justice, but she will only drive it away. you can't push hard for anything.

“Els?” You snap her out of her trance-like daze. She has not said anything in about an hour. Your voice is soft and so is your touch on her shoulder. You want to try to pick her brain, something you have been unsuccessful at doing the last couple of weeks. She winces. “Yeah?” She utters. A bit of phlegm in the back of her throat makes her sound hoarse.

AGAIN. WITH MAKING ELLIE A HUMAN. YOU DO IT TOO WELL I CAN'T ACTUALLY FATHOM ANY OF THIS.

canon relationship with tlouuniverse!ellie good god (By Korn).. something about this insecure, or in better words, inherent depiction of ellie makes me love her more. i think ellie would love to tell her girlfriend everything that runs on in her mind. i think it always sits in the base of her throat. but, she can't. there is no reason. she just can't. I LOVE YOU GRACIE.

“I think we need to surprise them at night,” She states, her voice a bit robotic. You just bite the inside of your lip and nod. She was making all the plans, you just had to go along with it.

more canon behaviour breuh.. literally this happened right after reader tried to get in touch with that hidden inside, that true ellie. yet, it was masked over. this alludes so well to a metaphor of possession, which.. they aren't always spiritual. i would even argue that possessions were never meant to be. i think these possessions that come from within, from a bud of despondency, or rage, are true possessions that happen often. it's disgusting to see the one you love taken by it. ergo, Good Job!!!!

You never saw her eyes change when she took a life.

i don't even need to say anything at this point. it speaks for itself.

She heaves and you know tears are spilling from those beautiful green eyes.

"AND YOU KNOW TEARS ARE SPILLING FROM THOSE BEAUTIFUL GREEN EYES." I REPEAT. "AND YOU KNOW TEARS ARE SPILLING FROM THOSE BEAUTIFUL GREEN EYES." UGHHHH I'M KILLING YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. I'M ANGRY WITH INFATUATION.

Before you knew Ellie, you knew Joel. You did not understand their relationship, but you knew it was fractured. Joel never talked badly about her, only reminding everyone around him how proud he was of her. Whenever he caught you around the stables, he would ask if you were still hanging out with her. You would always blush and reply quickly, “Yes, of course”. He would smile and tell you how grateful he was to see she had a friend like you.

i love this too much.. joel proud father no matter what.. this adds such a layer to this little universe in this little fic.. i could hug that old man if he wasn't a. fictional and b. 6 feet under.

“How am I supposed to live with that?” She was hurting so badly. Her violent heart has finally had enough. “You learn how to manage it.”

You stand up so you can face her. Her gaze has softened now and she almost looks like the same girl who confessed her feelings to you at the Harvest Festival two years ago. A little bit older, aged with the falling away of time, but still beautiful and vulnerable. Her green eyes sparkled differently, but your Ellie was still there somewhere.

Girl I'm killing myself in the middle of TjMaxx how do you write such beautiful things.. sabrina carpenter would arrest your Writing.. ugh

The silence tells you the answer but you just look over at Ellie. She has blood pouring out of her nose and it trickles down her neck. “She got away.”

the one that got away.. stop because that song actually puts tears in my eyes. i will never ever get over this scene of ellie in-game and now. in fics. man you were right about this fic HURTINGGGGGGG.

Every time she would touch you in that way, she was meticulous and very generous. You would try to return the favor and she would shrivel up and tell you that she was okay. It made you feel some type of way, but after the fifth time it happened, you realized it was because she did not feel in tune with herself in that way.

broken ellie who is broken during sex.. most realistic depiction of sex with farm!ellie (from a fully canonical plot) that i've seen on this app. like omg it's so disgusting and heartbreaking to read.. stop this right neow..

You told her that she was beautiful every day. No matter what she was doing, or how she looked, whenever the thought entered your mind, you would say it out loud. Her response was always, “No, you.”

Alright.. you got me kickalicking my feet with this one HUEEHAUHHUEUHEA

She looks at you, tears already welling in her eyes. “Babe…” You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Where are you going?”

NO.. GO BACK.. NO.. DON'T DO THIS.. BJORK HELP ME..NO..NO!!

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.” And now she would be.

You sick and twisted bastard you're going to receive 100 kisses by post mail I hope you ENJOY YOUR HOLIDAYS and SIT WITH THIS and realize how great of a writer you are no matter how deep in the depths of listlessness or demotivation you are.. please continue writing for ellie oh y god

i bet on losing dogs

pairing: ellie williams x reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

description: a slow progression of how you lost ellie.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader is in a relationship with ellie, only angst, small mentions of intimacy, descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, ellie is grieving big time, ellie trauma dumps, ellie gets hurt, reader is described to be scarred and disfigured after seattle, reader is scared of ellie, dark themes in general.

author’s note: just know this was sitting in my docs for a while cause I had a hard time sticking with the grief I felt writing it. I finished it a couple weeks ago and just kept rereading it. I can't keep looking at it anymore. have it. i'm sorry in advance.

Her bed was made.

That’s the first thing you noticed when you crept into her space. The snow had been piled in front of the door, indicating that no one had come or left. Your boots dusted snow across her old oriental-looking rug. Her back was turned to you.

She looks so small. Her hair is greasy, tousled up in a small bun at the base of her head. She was wearing the same clothes you left her in the day before.

“Els?”

She turns to you, not stunned, just a bit disoriented. Her eyebrows are furrowed the second her eyes meet yours.

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.”

The statement crushes you. You inhale deeply, trying to relieve the heaviness on your chest.

You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I can’t watch you rot in this room anymore.”

She's quick with her rebuttal. “If you would have listened, you wouldn’t have to watch. Just leave me alone.”

But you physically cannot. You have spent days pacing your house, thinking about her withering away in her detached garage. You try to sleep, but you know she’s not, so how could you?

And you had this bitterness in your mouth all the time now. After walking into that room in the ski lodge and seeing her and Joel bloodied and battered, you cannot get the metallic taste to go away. Everything you ate tasted like it.

“Ellie-“

“Please, I don’t want to talk.”

Her voice is shaky. You notice she’s picking at her cuticles again, they are red and irritated. She finally changed out of the socks that were partially soaked with blood.

It had been three days since Joel was taken from her.

You try to hold your ground, blinking back some tears that slip when she approaches you and takes your arm. She’s guiding you to the door, grabbing the handle. When the door creaks open, you snatch your arm away. You are trying to be patient, but this was the second time she was trying to throw you out. She had done the same to Maria and Tommy the day after Joel died.

“I thought you were fuckin’ dead, Ellie.”

You promised yourself you would not burden her with your emotions. But you could not help it anymore.

“What?”

She shuts the door, letting more cold air seep into the frigid room. She shifts onto her other heel, crossing her arms. It’s a physical way of blocking out your emotions, a gesture that is so subtle and probably absent of intention.

“I can’t lose you, too, okay?”

Her eyes finally find yours, “You’re not gonna-”

You reach out to her, pulling her hand out of the crook of her arm. “I am here, okay? I am right here.”

She uses the leverage of you grabbing her hand to reel you into a hug. As soon as your chin rests on her shoulder, she’s dead weight in your arms. It’s like a release that you have been waiting for. She starts to cry, the air escaping her lungs as she heaves to let out another sob. You just hold her, the anxiety of leaving her alone for the last three days now escaping you. You finally felt like you were doing something for her.

She grips onto you like you're the axis to keep her world spinning. Her whole life depended on the feeling of your body around her.

You sat with her for a whole day in silence. Not saying anything; just waiting for her to say the word. You knew what was next for Ellie.

She was going to get revenge.

Your shirt was stained with blood and sweat. You told yourself the next department store you saw, you would hunt down a 20-year-old shirt to replace it.

You were exhausted. You could hardly keep up with Ellie the last mile back to the theater. It was only the second day of trying to hunt down this crew Ellie was hell-bent on destroying. Two days in Seattle and you two have discovered a lot without having any initial leads when you arrived.

And you did not fault her for being so aggressive, but after the things you saw today, you’re starting to wonder if this was really what she needs. Her malicious and unhinged behavior was beginning to frighten you a bit.

It started when you entered an abandoned hotel. A couple of infected got taken down by your bullets, but when other non-infected people came running your way, you hesitated. You saw the looks of confusion on their faces when they saw you and Ellie. While you stood and held their gazes, Ellie raised her rifle and executed each one of them without even flinching. The shots were louder than you remember, echoing off the walls peeling of wallpaper.

Then today, you both arrived at an old elementary school. You were caught up with holding off a couple of people in a long hallway. You yelled for Ellie to wait it out, wanting the people to charge you so you could take them out, but instead, she lit up the entire hallway. When the last person came running at her with a baseball bat, she dodged them and shoved her blade right into their necks. You watched her twist it and rip it out the side, their blood splattering all over the wall. When the man collapsed, she simply tucked her weapon into her sheath and kept moving. It was so brutal and unnecessary, but she kept telling you they deserved it.

She found who she had been looking for. A girl named Nora. You were in charge of keeping watch while she got intel from her. You heard most of the conversation, but when you heard the sounds of metal clinging, you stepped away from the door. You had to resist the urge not to run in there and stop the torture, but your feet were stuck to the concrete. You did not move, you did not dare.

She is now digging dirt and blood out of her fingernails with her blade, trying not to accidentally knick herself. Her auburn fringe covers her forehead, greasy from sweat. She is still covered in blood, but you two have not said much since you arrived back.

She went too far and she knows it scared you. But frankly, she did not care. This was necessary.

She winces.

“Yeah?” She utters. A bit of phlegm in the back of her throat makes her sound hoarse.

“Can you please let me check on you? Just take off your coat.”

Your hand is still on her shoulder. She does not respond or move, so you take it as she’s submitting to your request. You grab the collar of her rain jacket and slowly start to drag it down her shoulder. She’s still not saying anything.

You wished you could read her mind. It would make your relationship with her way easier. After two years, you would think she would be better about sharing her feelings, but she mostly left you to interpret her body language. You got good at reading it for a while. But then Joel died. And now she is a silent and bitter ball of rage. Anything you thought you knew about her has fallen to the wayside.

You slowly take off her layers of clothing, being sure to avoid touching the wounds that have made her skin their new home.

The one on her shoulder was pretty bad, you think to yourself, she better let me stitch her up.

“I think we need to surprise them at night,” She states, her voice a bit robotic. You just bite the inside of your lip and nod. She was making all the plans, you just had to go along with it.

“Okay,” You whisper, grabbing a medical kit nearby. You made sure to pack it back in Jackson and it came in handy more than once already.

“Do you even want to know what happened earlier?”

Your heart sinks. You do not want to know what happened. You knew she got what she needed from the girl, but you truly did not know if you wanted to hear the details. The idea that Ellie did more than just beat her makes you physically sick. If she could do that to a stranger, what was she going to do when she got her hands on her? You were not innocent in the chase. But your heart always skipped when you had to pull your trigger at another human being. It was not easy to watch life leave someone’s eyes. But for Ellie it was different. She acted like they were just things. Inanimate objects that needed to be pushed out of the way. You never saw her eyes change when she took a life.

You grab the needle from the med kit and a nearby lighter before settling on the couch beside Ellie. Her shoulder blade is covered by all the blood creating new dark maroon freckles.

You tilt her shoulder back to better look at it before finally responding.

“Didn’t think you wanted to talk about it.”

You know that’s not the answer she wanted. Her shoulders fall forward and she places her face in her hands. She lets out a long sigh, disregarding you as you try to patch her up. She quickly turns around to look at you.

Her eyes are dark, her lips pursed.

“I got her to talk. She paid with her life.”

You want to see your Ellie, but whoever sits before you is a stranger.

You did not want to think about Ellie killing a girl by violently beating her. It seemed so personal and evil. You decide there’s no answer worth saying to her confession, so you just turn her back around and begin your slow, tedious stitching.

Once you finish off the last suture, you stand and bring over a bowl filled with rainwater the night before. You were going to use it for drinking, but you decide it’s better to use it to clean around Ellie’s battered body.

You grab a rag from your pack and dip it in the chilled water. You ring it out and bring it to your stitch work. She is shaking now, but you are so scared to hold her in your arms.

“The night before Joel… we got into that big fight. I was so fuckin’ mad at him. I went to his house to confront him again.”

She heaves and you know tears are spilling from those beautiful green eyes. “Ellie-“

“I told him I was going to try to forgive him for all the shit he did. I should’ve…”

You drop the red-stained cloth into the bowl and pull her back into your chest. She’s sobbing, her entire body shaking as you finally accept her into your space.

You loved Ellie. You loved her with every fiber of your being. She helped you through a lot of your grief when you arrived in Jackson. She held you through countless nights when you cried about losing your dad. You never thought you would have to do the same for her. Everyone, including you, thought Joel Miller was indestructible.

“Ellie, how were you supposed to know?” You ask softly before gently pressing a kiss in the middle of her back. You had never kissed her there before.

“How am I supposed to live with that?”

She was hurting so badly. Her violent heart has finally had enough.

“You learn how to manage it.”

It was the only way you pulled through. Grief is love expressing itself through other means. When you lost your dad, it was not violent. He was sick and his body was so beaten down, he had no chance of surviving the disease taking over his body. Your grief was managed by reminding yourself that you had to keep living for him because if not, you would be disappointing him. You did not know if heaven was real, but you did believe in energy, and you felt him sometimes especially when you needed him the most.

Ellie’s grief was different. It was forceful and unyielding. She could not let the hatred go and you did not particularly blame her. She watched Joel get beaten so badly that his face was almost unrecognizable. She had to watch a random woman take him away from her, forever. You could not compare your grief, but you did know that with time, she would know how to better manage it. She just could not get over the contempt for others who wronged her. It was embedded within her to seek out retribution.

She cried a bit, letting out a long sigh. “The only way I see it is if I give those people an ounce of violence they showed Joel in his final moments, I will be at peace.”

You knew the truth. There was no peace in situations like this. But were you going to tell Ellie that? No, you were not. You traveled hundreds of miles for her to do what she felt was necessary. And while you did not agree with all of her actions, you had been complacent. You were no better than any other person with a violent and impulsive lover. You enabled this journey to come to fruition, so you had to take accountability.

“Okay, baby.” That is all you could say. “We will finish it.”

When you come back to consciousness, your vision is fuzzy. You are completely disoriented, but you know you are face down on the concrete. You start to feel around for something familiar, not sure if your gun or knife is nearby. You felt defenseless.

“Ellie?” You croak out. As soon as you talk, you can feel blood dribbling down your throat. You hear stirring beside you and your blood runs cold. Is that her?

You lift your hand to rub whatever is in your eyes out. Dirt? Mud? When you look at your hands, you get confirmation that it’s blood. You’re covered in it.

The movement gets closer and you look to your right and see Ellie’s battered body slowly stumbling towards you. Panic rises within you, unsure if she was mortally wounded or not. She collapses beside you, sitting up partially. She reaches for your hand and you realize that you can hardly move your foot to try to push yourself upwards. Everything hurt.

“Baby, I’m here.” She finally says. Your worry subsides for a moment as you try to sit up.

“Are you hurt?” You cry out as you press yourself upwards, the pain in your foot shooting up your leg. It’s almost the worst pain you’ve ever been in. You can hardly breathe once contort yourself to settle next to Ellie’s practically limp body.

“Yeah, but I can walk.”

You finally remember why you’re in this room. You try to scan the room, but the dimmed lighting and blood in your eyes isn’t helping. “Is Abby dead?”

The silence tells you the answer but you just look over at Ellie. She has blood pouring out of her nose and it trickles down her neck.

“She got away.”

Every day after Abby got away was completely different. When you arrive at the farmhouse on the hill, you hope to see your old Ellie again, and sometimes you do.

When the golden light trickled between the leaves in the forest and you two bask in the rays as you forage for berries, you tell a stupid joke and her laugh is guttural. She belly laughs and tells you that you’re so “dumb” before she wraps her arms around your waist and presses a kiss into your temple.

But then there was nighttime. When she finally fell asleep and you would stay up with a candle burning to read, she was ravaged by nightmares. She usually couldn’t escape them, so you would throw your book on the side table and hold her tightly so she could come back to reality.

The day would break and she would bring you up some breakfast in bed. She was terrible at cooking, but no one can really mess up scrambled eggs. She would serve them to you with a big goofy grin and long kisses.

Intimacy was few and far between, but you knew not to press it too much. Every time she would touch you in that way, she was meticulous and very generous. You would try to return the favor and she would shrivel up and tell you that she was okay. It made you feel some type of way, but after the fifth time it happened, you realized it was because she did not feel in tune with herself in that way.

After a year of domesticity, you woke up one night to the sound of rustling downstairs and an empty bed. When Ellie did have a bad nightmare, she would occasionally go downstairs and sit on the front porch. But it was a chilly night and you knew better.

The day before Tommy made an unexpected visit and made an already awkward interaction absolutely deplorable. He had to bring up her and blame Ellie for the outcome of the Seattle event. The entire situation led to you forcing him off the property and telling him to never come back with that bullshit.

It was a subject you and Ellie never discussed after leaving those city limits. She told you she was done, that it was all over. You would never fight her on it, especially because you knew it was really over. There was no way you would be going after someone who almost killed you and disfigured you. Every time you looked in a mirror, you were forced to see the scars that littered your cheeks and forehead. A sick reminder of the bitter fight between you two.

You slowly walk downstairs, seeing Ellie’s figure in the kitchen. She has her backpack on the floor, loading a gun into the side pocket.

“What are you doing?” You ask bluntly. She turns around and you take note of her outfit. A couple of layers. A large brown jacket, jeans, and her Converse. She was going somewhere.

She looks at you, tears already welling in her eyes.

“Babe…”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Where are you going?”

You creep up to her slowly, your bare feet creaking across the hardwood.

She’s a foot away when she finally puts her hands out to stop you from coming closer.

“I… I think Tommy is right.”

If it was possible for someone to rip out your heart without opening up your chest, it was happening to you right now. This would be the worst pain.

“Right about what?” You manage as a whisper.

She takes in a long breath, “About Abby. About going after her.”

“No… Ellie, he’s not right.”

You try to move closer, but she takes a step back. She’s treating you like you are infected. But even that would not matter, she’s Ellie.

It makes you feel every negative emotion when she says the words, “I need to finish this. I told you… I told you I wouldn’t be at peace until I-”

“So why did we even come back, Ellie? How is this fucking fair to me?”

“You wanted to. We… we were fucked up. We didn’t have a chance.”

“And you think you do now?!”

She shakes her head, almost appalled by your statement. “I wasn’t broken like you were.”

You close your lids tightly, unsure how you could even look her in the eyes. Your fingernails are digging into your palms. You had this feeling for a while. An unsettled force that would occasionally bloom in the pit of your stomach when you watched Ellie. You would remind yourself that it’s over. The plot for revenge was buried deep in the ground.

So when she stands in front of you, ready to take off, you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Ellie, if you go, I will never forgive you. I will not wait for you.”

She’s silent, contemplating even for a moment. She has this look of determination. She has already made up her mind. “That’s your choice.”

She starts to pick up the bag, but you make one more silent plea before watching your life walk out the back door. You grab her hand quickly, stopping her from taking any steps.

“I thought you fuckin’ loved me, Ellie. I thought you said we were done.” You sob out, “You think Joel would want this for you? Do you really think he would want you to walk out that door?”

Deep down, you know that Joel would have gone to the ends of the earth for Ellie, especially if the roles were reversed. But he would also want her to have a life after him. And you were more sure of that than the latter.

She pulls her wrist away from your grasp. A look of pure betrayal playing across her features. You had not spoken his name in months. It sounds like a curse word to her coming from you. “You don’t know what he would want.”

“And you do?”

“He would have done the same for me.”

And she leaves. You think back to the first words she said to you when you entered her room over a year ago.

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.”

And now she would be.

#♱ | “fic recs.”#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams angst #the last of us 2 #the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou x reader #tlou fic

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harley-sunday · 2 years ago

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#I have painted some of my bedroom walls today #and so now my bed is sort of floating in the middle of the room #not touching any walls #and if you don't hear from me tomorrow it's because I fell into the abyss #I hate this #At least one side of my bed should touch a wall #anyway #Welcome to this niche corner

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luveline · 6 months ago

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Heyyyy can you do a Hotch x reader where readers just kinda been down all day but doesn’t wanna tell Hotch because she’s kinda used to being the badass with all her walls up? And hotch kinda pulls her to the side and forces it out of her 😊😊

thank you for requesting!! fem, 1.2k

Hotch has dark hair. He’s an older guy but he’s yet to grey, hair like the strands are soaked with coal pitch, even darker under the office lights. He braces his hand on the desk and ducks toward Spencer’s computer screen, pointing at a corner with patience.

“This one,” Hotch says.

“Why would they organise it like this?” Spencer asks, his voice bordering incredulous.

“I’m not sure. You’ll remember where this is?”

“Do you usually have to tell me more than once?” Spencer says lightly.

“Ask your licence to carry.”

You’d laugh, his wit quick and poor Spencer a good sport, but your head feels heavy with a forming upset. Like your mind has turned to thick porridge. You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but you don’t feel angry, more magnificently empty. Nothing is touching beyond your surface level.

“Thank you, sir,” Spencer says.

You ignore the weight of a gaze on you while you click through your emails, prioritising what needs to be answered before the end of the day, the end of the week, and the end of the month as Hotch taught you to. You double click an email chain from a consult you’d been assigned from out of state and reread your response, nervous that your lack of confidence today might have shone through blunt wording. Hotch is looped into the chain —he can correct any glaring errors should you have made them.

“Hey,” Hotch says when you don’t look up. He doesn’t use your name, and he doesn’t need to. “I’d like to talk to you. Let’s go up to my office.”

“Can I have a half hour to work through my emails?” you ask apologetically.

“I’d prefer we talk now. Any overdue reply can be blamed on me,” he says.

The way he talks is natural to him but perhaps strange if it were another person, with another disposition. You know Hotch to be both gentle and stern at once. His tone leaves little room for debate, but it reassures you to hear the measured cadence of each word without rush. The openness of his expression is similarly comforting, and though he doesn’t know it —you would never own up to feeling this way, verbally or physically— you’d quite like to be comforted by him. Even if he takes you to the office to reprimand you, you’ll at least have been near him for long enough to forget your odd aching.

Hotch doesn’t walk until you do, taking each step by side until he gets to the office, where he opens the door to encourage you in.

You drift a few feet inward, shoes soft on clean, crisp carpeting. Hotch closes the door, where he stands momentarily, silence held.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

Hotch pulls out one of the two black chairs in front of his desk and gestures for you to sit. “Everything’s okay,” he says, standing back to give you space to sit, his hand moving to rest on the back of the chair as you sit. It whines as you shift to see him. “With me, everything’s okay. How about you?”

“Everything’s fine with me.”

You’d pad your explanation out if you didn’t think he was about to tell you what you’re in the brig for. No one likes a nervous Nelly.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You glance at his hand behind you and he moves it swiftly. “Hotch?” you ask tentatively.

“I’ve noticed you aren’t yourself today.”

“I’m completely myself.”

“It’s not like you to stare into space.” He frowns. “I want to sit down because I don’t like towering over you, but I don’t want you to internalise this as a meeting.”

“You’re not towering over me, Hotch.

His frown doesn’t ebb. “…We each have our own unique levy to carry the weight of, I know that. But it’s not… nice, to see you like this. I’d like to know what’s wrong.”

Again, no nonsense and reassuring at once.

Maybe he is towering a little. You avert your gaze from his, feeling uncharacteristically meek for a weak moment.

“I think I woke up mixed up,” you confess eventually, picking at a stray thread on your skirt until the tips of your fingers burn. “Like, nothing happened to upset me, but I…”

“You do feel upset.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You’re not sure why?”

“Not really. I think that–” You lick your lips nervously, not finding the right words, wanting to be vulnerable and simultaneously reluctant to show him anything he might not like. “I think it’s lots of smaller things and they’re layering on top of each other. Do you get that?”

“All the time. Though usually my way of dealing with it is less pleasant for others.” He looks down at you steadily. “And yours,” —he aims enough fondness at you to stop your heart— “is self-contained. But I don't want you to think you’re walking through life unseen.”

“Unseen,” you repeat.

He stands very still. “Can I touch your face?” he asks quietly.

You don’t know why he’d ask, but you say, “Yes, please.”

“Please,” he says. You’re repeating each other. The air in the room feels thicker as he lifts his hand to your cheek and cups it gently. “When you’re upset, I notice. I can’t help but notice.” Your face lists into his palm slowly, worried he’ll move, but he holds you and he watches you with care. “Is there anything I can do to make it all feel better?”

“I don’t think so.”

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “No?”

You close your eyes. “No,” you say, matching his volume.

“I don’t know what to do now,” he murmurs.

“Sorry, I’m okay,” you say, asking yourself to move away from his touch, but unable to force it, “I’m gonna…”

It’s a boundary crossed, but you and Hotch are good at that. He’s constantly treating you with more sweetness than a boss should show toward his employee, and you eat it up despite every instinct in you that says you shouldn’t. So you won’t tell him you’ve had a bad day until he asks, and even then, you have nothing permanent to offer him for fixing, and still he’ll hold your face and make it feel ordinary. Like he’s touched you a hundred times, something about it feels right, and real. Your cheek feels softer under his tracing thumb. You could fall asleep in his hands.

“How can I make you feel better?” he asks again.

“It’s not that bad.”

“But what can I do?”

You want to ask for a hug, but even the idea of it is too much to think about. Miss Independent admitting she needs more than this? When it’s already more than you should have?

Profilers profile, and somehow you give yourself away.

“Come on,” he says softly.

He hugs you. His hand falls from your face to your shoulder, wrapping behind it, encompassing you in a strong arm as he bends down to embrace you fully.

“I wish you’d ask for more,” he says, his free arm slinking between your arm and side, hand to your back, encouraging you to hug him back.

You don’t know what to do with your arms. Each movement feels stilted, but Hotch makes up for it. He hugs you without inhibition, like he’s wanted to do it for a long, long time.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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misserabella · 1 year ago

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what girls can do

abby anderson x fem masc! reader

summary; abby wasn’t gay… right?

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, abby being scared of liking girls, reader is masc presenting!!!, reader fucking another girl (she has a reputation) and abby hears, switch reader and abby, masturbation (abby), kissing, make out, tension and touching in the showers, teasing, praising, praise kink, use of good girl, oral (abby and r receiving), boob and nipple play, hair pulling, hickeys, abby’s first time with a girl…

abby anderson wasn’t gay.

she had liked owen for as long as she could remember. she had even dated him. and sure, the sex was…, boring, to say the least. but that didn’t mean she was gay.

but then…, why couldn’t she look away?

you were working out at the WLF’s gym, white wife beater and grey sweats, hair up on a low bun as you grunted at the effort of lifting weights.

your thighs were spread, shirt slightly sliding up your stomach as you bench pressed. abby’s eyes lingered on the soft plush skin, wanting, no, needing to see more.

she bit down on her bottom lip, too out of focus of her own rutine. she was staring.

even more when she noticed angela passing by. she stopped to talk to you with a flirty smile, which you returned, smirk on your lips. abby heard rumors. rumors about how good you were in bed. how good you could make a girl feel. how they always came back to you for more… angela was an example of it. you had fucked her just a mere couple of days ago and there she was, looking for more.

abby watched as one of your hands landed on the back of her thigh, since she was standing up and you sat on the bench. she wondered how it would feel like. skin against skin. how your eyes would feel like on her.

she shook her head. yeah, no. she was just curious. pure healthy curiosity. she couldn’t imagine herself fucking you, or imagine you in between her legs, tongue out, mouth and chin dripping in…

she huffed, getting up from the machine she was working on and picking up his towel and bottle of water. she was not on the right head space to work out.

her way to her and manny’s room was not long, plopping herself on her bed with a huff and taking from her nightstand a book she had been meaning to finish in hopes to avoid thinking about you at all, which lately seemed to be the only thing she could think about.

that was until she recognized your voice though the other side of the wall, and angela’s, as you entered on your room, which stood next to abby’s.

the walls were so thin she could even heard the first contact of your lips against hers, the lewd smacking and the wet sounds of your tongue sliding against hers.

“you missed me, huh? needy girl…” you voice sounded muffled, but still high enough for her to hear, along with angela’s moan.

abby tried her best to ignore it, focusing on the ink letters of her book. but it was impossible to simply ignore you.

“you’re so wet…” abby’s cheeks flushed, feeling her cunt throb at your words. “you’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you? of course you have…” abby closed her eyes, trying to recompose herself. she should probably leave her room and go somewhere else, maybe pound on your door and ask you to keep it down. but somehow, she couldn’t move. she was glued down to her sheets.

suddenly, angela was moaning, and you were grunting. “that’s it. taking my fingers so good, good girl.” abby’s throat dried up. holy fuck. her thighs clenched, and her heart was beating so fast…

“fuck.” she sighed, embarrassed of herself. she shouldn’t be listening to this. but you sounded so good… and she was getting so wet… why was she getting wet? she didn’t like girls!

she tried and think about owen and the times the two of them fucked. she always struggled to get wet, and now? her hand pushed inside her sweat shorts and into her panties, fingers sliding through her folds.

she was fucking soaked.

“holy shit.” she muttered, her index finger touching her throbbing clit, her mind filling up with images of you. of your eyes, your arms, your muscles, your thighs, your chest, your mouth, your hands, your fingers…

she had to bit down on her lip to not let out a pathetic moan.

“look at you. what a dirty girl, i bet you’ve been thinking about this. about my fingers in your pussy, huh?” abby then pushed her ring finger inside her tight warmwalls, a gasp leaving her lips as she followed your voice, imagined it was you who touched her.

she was supposed to be embarrassed, touching herself to you while you fucked another girl on the next room… it was sickening. but she couldn’t stop. it felt good. better than it had ever felt before. and she hadn’t come in so long...

“that’s it. doing so good for me. want my cock, baby? want me to fuck you dumb?” she added another finger in, crooking them against her g spot as her other hand came up her shirt to squeeze one of her breasts, pinching her nipple. she nodded, imagining it was her you were talking to, you were touching and fucking. “you’re gonna cum? gonna cream my fingers?” she could hear angela’s moans, how they became more repetitive, gasps and huffs leaving her lips.

abby was getting closer, her thighs shaking. little low grunts we’re leaving her throat.

“yeah, go ahead. let me see it drip.”

she’d never come so hard before, vision turning white, breath leaving her lungs, mouth falling ajar in a silent scream as cum coated her fingers. her free hand, the one that had been playing with her chest gripped the sheets as her back arched. “fuckfuckfuckfuck…” she fucked herself through it, stilling her fingers inside her cunt once she had fully come down from it. she took a deep breath, her fuzzy brain finally reconnecting to reality. she realized what she had done, and quickly pulled her hand out of her pants, cheeks flushed and eyes unable to stare at the cum making her fingers shine. she hurriedly got up from her bed, quickly taking a change of clothes as she heard still muffled moans and voices. just as she rushed towards her door manny came in, and it only made her flush even more. holy fuck, she could have gotten caught.

“hey abs, wanna-“ before she could finish she was getting out the room. “okay… tremendas prisas…”

she went to the community bathrooms and took a towel, getting rid of her clothes to get into the showers. she slightly cringed at the feeling of her slick making her cunt stick to her panties. the water was just what she needed to calm down, splashing it all over her face.

she wasn’t gay… right? maybe she had just slipped. she was really pent up. maybe it all clouded her mind.

and then, there you were, opening the door and getting inside the bathrooms. abby’s eyes widened as she watched you slowly take off your clothes. you started by your wife beater, your hands gripping the rim to pull it up your toned stomach and chest, one of which hands you had just used to touch someone. abby wondered if you had already cleaned the cum out of your fingers, probably used your mouth and sucked it clean. her cunt throbbed at the thought. even more when she took in the sight of your exposed chest, beautiful perky nipples hardening due to the cold air hitting your newly exposed skin. you shimmied your grey sweats down your strong thighs, staying on your boxers as you made your way to grab a towel. abby’s eyes trained on your ass, even more on the wet patch on your crotch, she wondered if you were as wet as she had been thanks to your voice, if angela had touched you. had she made you feel good? had she made you cum? had she eaten you out? how would you taste? how would you sound? how…

she tightly squeezed her eyes shut, dipping her head back under the water.

“hey.” you said as you got beside her in the showers, opening the water. abby had to control herself to not look at you.

“hey.” she answered.

abby was cute. hell, she was beautiful. with blonde hair, broad shoulders, thick thighs and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. you’d lie if you didn’t think she was attractive. but she was straight. sadly enough. so you two had a pretty standard relationship. that being said… why was she blushing? maybe due to all the steam inside or here?

you discretely looked at her.

your eyes trailed down her toned arms to her little breasts, strong thighs and her plump ass. your tongue darted out from your mouth to wet your lips. she was hot. really hot. owen was, or had been, a lucky motherfucker.

abby caught you staring and her whole face seemed to burst in flames, but of course, you caught her too as you soaped up your body, slippery hands over your chest. you two stared at each other, and suddenly, the room was heavy.

you smirked as you watched her eyes follow your touch over your boobs. maybe she wasn’t that straight, you thought, but then she was looking away.

“abby?” you called for her, and her whole body seemed to tense up. bottom lip in between her teeth.

“yeah?” she inquired, and you leaned against the tiles of the bathroom, looking at her.

“you can look.” you said, softly. you could sense it, the nervousness, the inquiries. you could almost read her anxious and confused mind, could see yourself on her.

abby’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, her wet unbraided hair falling over her face before she would slightly peek at you. she gulped at the sight. you were completely bare, soft skin in display for her hungry and curious eyes. and you were beautiful. she took everything in. the curve of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curls on your mound, your toned stomach and thighs…

you slowly walked closer, until you were caging her against the cold tiles, chest almost brushing hers.

“i thought you didn’t like girls.” you muttered, her blue eyes on yours.

“i don’t.” she said, and you scoffed, watching as she shivered when one of your hands took her hip. she was so soft…

you slowly leaned in, ‘till your breaths intertwined. abby looked down at your lips. what the hell was happening?

“are you sure?” you muttered, your lips brushing hers. she felt her heart beating faster inside her chest. “ ‘cause it seems like you wanna kiss me… do you wanna kiss me, abby?” you teased, fully pressing your chest against hers, making her groan. “i think you do…” your free hand came up her face to her chin, thumb pressing against her bottom lip. “why don’t you open up for me, hm?” she followed, her jaw falling and lips parting. “good girl.” you whispered against her before you’d close the distance, hearing her moan in your mouth, your tongue pushing inside her own. her hands came up to your shoulders, fingers gripping you as you lewdly and softly kissed her. for a moment it seemed like she was gonna push you away. she probably should’ve. but she didn’t. instead only pushing you closer, making you hum. your hand trailed down to her neck, where you left it, keeping her in place as you hungrily kissed her.

holy fuck. you were kissing abby anderson. you couldn’t remember for how long you’ve been dreaming about this. you’ve had a little crush on her for years.

abby should’ve feel weird about it, you’d just fucked a girl, put the same tongue that was on her mouth on angela’s, used the same hands that you were touching with to touch the brunette, but instead, she couldn’t just think about how fucking good it felt.

you pressed her against the wall. the hand on her hip going up to her chest, where you cupped one of her tits, kissing her harder. her body arched against you, and her hands found your hair, tugging.

she groaned when you pulled away, kissing the side of her neck.

“fuuck.” she sighed, feeling your index and thumb pinch her nipple.

“that’s it. you like it, hm? like it when i touch you like this?” she nodded, and you smirked. “shit. never thought you’d go for girls.” you incredulously said, to what she reacted.

suddenly she seemed to be lucid, pushing away from you.

“abby?” you inquired, but she was quickly taking her towel, draping it around herself and picking up her stuff. “abby!” you watched as she hurriedly left the bathrooms. her heart was on her throat. she thanked god her dorm was a few steps away from the bathrooms or else the whole WLF would have seen her running practically naked around the halls.

that afternoon abby locked herself on her room and didn’t even got out for dinner.

days passed by in which you hadn’t heard anything from abby. days in which the only thing she had done had been think about your time in the showers. in which she hadn’t gotten any sleep, feeling your touch all over her body, your kisses, your breath against her skin…

she could hear your voice, remember your teasing. she’d touched herself to it over and over again, facing the fact that yeah, she liked girls. she liked you.

that’s how she had ended up here, in front of your dorm’s door, knocking in the middle of the night. she was biting down on her bottom lip, hands sweaty and shaky and pupils blown. her cunt was aching and her heart was beating fast. way too fast.

she wanted it. she wanted to feel your touch again. she wanted you to kiss her again. to show her what pleasure really felt like. she wanted to know what fucking you felt like. would she moan like angela did? would you talk to her like you’ve talked to angela?

you opened the door, only a pair of boxers and a wife beater on. you seemed to had been still awake.

“abby?” you inquired, fully opening the door. “what are you-“ but before you could finish she was jumping at you, her warm hands cupping your cheeks to bring you in on a kiss. your eyes widened in surprise, still quickly closing when you felt her lips on yours. you hummed, stepping backwards and closing the door once the two of you were inside. you pushed her against it, her tongue inside your mouth, her hands on your hair, tugging as you took her by the waist. “what are you doing?” you pulled away, breathing on her lips with a smirk tugging from your own. instead of answering, she tried and kiss you again, but you didn’t let her, dodging her lips. “nuh-uh. speak.” abby groaned.

“isn’t it obvious?” she inquired, eyes on your lips. she wanted to taste them over and over and over again. she wanted to suffocate.

“i mean, i’m not complaining.” you said, crooking your head to the side. “don’t get me wrong. is just that the last time we kissed you ran away…” abby’s cheeks flushed. “so… what is it that you want, abby?” you inquired, your free hand coming up to push behind her ear a strand of her blonde hair. she shivered.

“i want you to kiss me.” she said, voice low and decisive.

“i can do that.” you said with a smirk before leaning in, pushing your lips against hers before your tongue would enter her mouth, wetly kissing her. you made her knees almost buckle. abby moaned against you, and you pulled her closer to you. your hands, which stood on her waist, crept under her shirt, feeling her abs. “is this alright?” you asked. you didn’t want her to get scared again. she nodded, her hands taking yours to guide them over her chest. “oh yeah?” you smirked. “you want me to touch you?” she nodded. “words.”

“yes. yes, please.” she gasped, and you tweaked her nipples, making her moan.

“fuck. you sound so good…” she sighed as your lips met her neck, crooking her head to give you more space. abby’s hand left your hair to get the rim of her shirt, pushing it over her head to leave her chest exposed. your mouth watered at the sight, a sight that you’ve missed the last couple of days. your kisses trailed down her neck to her chest and her boobs. her hands were back on your hair as your tongue darted out to lick at your nipples, one of your legs pushing in between her legs.

“shit.” she hissed, tugging on your hair. you hummed. “please touch me, please.” she begged, her hips rutting against your thigh.

“get on the bed.” you grunted, and you two quickly made your way to your bed. you thanked god you didn’t have roommates. abby’s thighs parted for you, your lips against hers. she moaned as you pushed down her legs her pajama pants and boxers. abby shivered when the cold air hit her wet folds, moaned when your fingers dipped in between her slicked lips. “fuck. you’re soaked.” you groaned. “you really want this, don’t you?” you teased her. “want me to fuck you? want me to make you feel good?” she nodded. your fingers met her clit, drawing little circles on it and hearing her moan, hips pushing against your touch. “that’s it. just what you needed, isn’t it? poor thing just wanted to feel good…” abby’s mouth fell agape when you plunged one of your fingers inside of her warm walls. “what is it, hm? your little boyfriend couldn’t fuck you good enough?” moans fell from her lips at the pumping of your finger in and out of her, your lips brushing against her own, eyes never wandering from her face. you wanted to see her fall apart. “of course he didn’t, i’m sure he couldn’t make you cum even if he tried. but i can. i’m gonna fuck you so good… gonna make you come so hard you’d be coming back for more. begging for more.” you added your ring finger, curling them and making abby whimper. “is that what you want? want me to fuck you dumb, abby?”

“yes, fuck. yes.”

you hummed. “wanna taste you.” you muttered against her lips, and in a blink you were in between her thighs. abby’s back arched and she gasped when your tongue licked at her throbbing clit.

“oh my god.” she moaned, and you hummed as you felt her grip at your hair. you kept her thighs spread as you sucked on her clit, fucking her open on your fingers.

“pussy taste so good…” you groaned, lapping at her arousal. you were slurping on every drop of her juices you could get. you noticed her squirming, moaning non-stop. it was as if she’d never… “have you never gotten eaten out?” she shook her head and you cursed under your breath.

“owen said it was disgusting.” you felt rage flowing through your body. disgusting?

“does it seem like i’m not enjoying it?” you inquired, and her cheeks flushed, shaking her head no. “exactly. that’s because i love it.” you licked a fat strip up her cunt. “i could drown in this pussy.”

you curled your fingers, hitting her g spot over and over again. her moans were getting louder, her thighs trembling and walls clenching around your fingers.

you knew she was close.

“i’m gonna cum.” she whined, and you only thrusted harder with your fingers, sucked harsher on her clit until her moans came to a stop in a silent scream and cum poured from her hole and soaked your fingers. “fuckfuckfuck!” you hummed as she whimpered, fucking her through it.

you kissed her inner thighs, and left a little peck on her clit before pulling away. she looked absolutely fucked out as you crawled up her body, pushing your lips against her and hearing her hum when she opened your mouth for your tongue. she could taste herself on your tongue. and it was making her wonder how would you taste.

“can i do it too?” she inquired against your lips.

“you don’t have to if-“

“i want to.” she cut you off, and you smiled, kissing her back. “you’ll tell me how, right?” you nodded.

“yeah, i’ll teach you.” and somehow, abby was getting wet again at those words. you pushed your wife beater off, along with your boxers before exchanging places with the blonde, who once she was on top of you couldn’t help but groan.

“so beautiful…” you sighed when you felt her kisses trail down your neck, sucking bruises that had you wanting more. usually you’d ask the girls that you’d fuck to not leave any marks on you. but you wanted abby’s. and you weren’t ashamed of it. her warm big hands cupped your tits. “couldn’t stop looking at you in the showers… you looked so fucking hot.”

“what do you mean the showers? you were staring at the gym too.” you teased her, and her cheeks flushed.

“shut up.” she said.

“why don’t you make me?” you smirked, your face quickly changing to one of pleasure when her hand cupped your cunt, fingers pressing against your puffy clit. “you’re wet.” it was as if she were surprised.

“no shit.” you let out a chocked laughter at the little circles she draw on that little bundle of nerves. “you’re hot, abby.”

“yeah?” she inquired and you nodded.

“been wanting you since the start. too bad you were with owen.” you said.

“yeah. too bad.” she agreed, slowly trailing down your body to lay in between your legs. “but you have me now, don’t you?” she inquired, eyes on yours and you hummed.

“yeah.” but then you were moaning at the experimental lick she made up your pussy, the heavy and earthy taste of your arousal hitting her and making her groan. it was over for her. she knew she’d become addicted. “oh, fuck.” one of your hands laced on her hair, your hips rutting against her tongue. “just like that.” abby hummed, lapping at everything she could get, her strong arms surrounding your thighs to push them over her shoulder and keep you there, at her mercy. “shit, abby.” you moaned her name when you felt her slightly suck on your clit. at your reaction, she did it again, harder, hearing you whine as your back arched.

“you’re sensitive, huh?” she teased, licking at your throbbing clit, and you hissed.

“why don’t you be a good girl and keep your mouth busy with my pussy, hm?” abby swore she could come, her stomach flipping at the nickname. you noticed the blush on her cheeks. “you liked that, didn’t you? like it when i call you my good girl?” she nodded. “speak up.” you ordered.

“yeah.”

“of course you do…” you cooed, taking the hair out of her face. “then earn it. make me feel good.” that’s all she needed to go back in between your legs, sucking and making out dirtily with your pussy. “just like that. atta girl.” abby moaned, her hips rutting against the sheets in need of friction. “use your fingers, come on.” one of her hands came in between your legs, her middle fingers prodding at your hole before slowly pushing in, making you sigh in pleasure.

she started to slowly pump it in and out, relishing in your breathy moans and grunts as she sucked on your clit, after a couple of minutes pushing in a second. wet squelches coming from your pussy taking her thick fingers filled your room, along with her hums and your groans.

“good girl abby, fuck, good fucking girl.” she was eating you like a starved woman, hungry for more. she couldn’t get enough of it. of your taste. of you. “i’m gonna cum. you’re gonna make me cum so hard…” your hips were subconscious rutting against her mouth, chasing your upcoming orgasm. she only curled her fingers faster, sucked harder, until she felt it; the squeezing of your walls around her fingers and your thighs against her face and the cum coating her fingers and tongue. she hummed, suckling and slurping on your juices, on every last drop, making a mess out of her cheeks, lips and chin until you pushed her away due to the overstimulation, pulling from her blonde hair. her hazy blue eyes looked at you, and your heart shuttered. you pulled from her so she could lay on top of you. “so pussy drunk… did you like it baby? liked eating my pussy?” she nodded, opening her mouth for you when you kissed her, feeling your hands cup her ass to thrust her against your pussy, making the two of you moan. “why don’t i teach you what else girls can do, hm?”

a/n;🤭

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hiiikiko · 3 months ago

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001: ‘She’s in a band’

TW: Light smut, Ellie being a jerk tbh. (Not proofread bc I took my meds and I’m feeling lazy :P)

Moving to Seattle wasn’t your first choice, I mean, you were perfectly happy in Arizona. You had friends, family, and most importantly, a band but some drama happened and you wanted to get away from it all. Your first choice was going to California but you had no money, no stable job, and no place to crash so, you reluctantly went to Seattle. At least you’d be closer to the music scene and you haven’t seen your favourite cousin in awhile..

Gazing out the window as the amtrak came to a halt you see Jesse sitting on a bench, legs obnoxiously sprawled out and a toothpick hanging on his lips.

“Can take the boy outta the country but can’t take the country outta the boy,” you chuckle as you gather your luggage and make your way off the bus

“Hey, y/n/n,” Jesse drawls, grabbing your luggage with ease and slinging his arm around you.

“Ugh, get off me you reek of axe and cigarettes,” you tease with a smile playing on your lips as Jesse ruffles your hair and throws your things into the back of his truck.

Jesse’s place was a lot nicer than you though, I guess being a welder does pay off. It was a little messy and could use a homey touch but it was rather nice but you would never admit that to him. Your room was nice too, a little small, but had a great view and even had access to the balcony. The room was bare, plain white walls with a red brick wall on one side, a bed and one singular lamp sitting in the middle of the room.

You settle in while Jesse rifles through your things and rants about his current situationship, “She’s just insane like who asks for your credit score on the first date? Don’t get me wrong, my credit score is so good that it would make ANY girls parties drop.”

You scrunch your nose and throw a hoodie at him as he continues “Hey, I’m just say—“ he begins before hes abruptly interrupted by a call, “Yeah?.. right now?… Alright, alright, alright… on my way, doll.”

“Hmmm, I wonder who that could be,” sarcasm practically oozes off your words.

“It’s Dina,” Jesse winks as he rushes to put his boots on, “Don’t expect me to come back tonight,” he winks.

“Oh, come on,” you trail after him, “It’s my first night! Can’t you stay? We can, like, get dinner and maybe go to a bar?”

‘Nah, I’d rather get laid than hang out with my dorky little cousin,” He says, the door cutting off his voice.

Asshole.

And that’s how you find yourself all alone, sitting at a bar and cheering on the local bands when two girls sit next to you. The girl with short hair remarks, “Those guys were so ass, ‘The Serpahites?’ What the fuck kinda name is that,” her friend laugh at her joke.

“Sounds like a cult,” you mutter under your breath, not meaning for them to hear you but the girl with auburn hair laughs, “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop—“ you begin but are quickly interrupted by the girl resting a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, dude,” a soft smile on her lips.

Fuck, she’s so cute. The way the dim bar lights dance over her facial features and the way her short hair falls softly over her green eyes. She was wearing a flannel but you could tell she had one hell of a body.

“Sorry,” you say again.

“It’s all good,” she smirks, crap, did she notice the way you were staring?

As you’re debating on whether or not you should call it a night or get on your knees and start apologizing profusely for ever thinking lewd thoughts in the presence of an angel, she gets up, grabbing her friends hand and heads into the back.

Crap, I should’ve asked for her number..

Just as you take another sip from the fruity drink you ordered, you hear the announcer introduce another band called “the Infected.” Sounds pretty cool, you think as you get up from your seat and make your way into the crowd of people.

Must be a popular band.

The curtains are pulled back to reveal the girl you met at the bar earlier, she’s taken off her flannel and is now wearing a form fitting black tank top, low rise jeans, and a pair of worn converse, on her shoulder rests a beautiful black guitar littered with stickers of stars and planets, cute. Along side her is a girl with piercings, long black hair, looks like the lead singer, and oh. my. god. IS THAT JESSE?? He’s no longer wearing a flannel but a plain black tee, denim jeans, and of course, his boots, he’s on drums.

“Jesse!” you cheer as his head whips around and shoots daggers at you, you’ll never let him live this down.

The band plays a wonderful set and gets a lot of cheers from the crowd. Some fans, mostly girls, approach the band afterwards to gush over them, the girl with the auburn hair seems to have the most fans.

You make your way towards the stage to find Jesse, hoping to tease him about what you just witnessed.

“He’s in the back changing,” a voice rasps from behind. “Ah, I see,” turning around, you see the bassist towering over you.

“Heyyy, I know you, we met at the bar, yeah?” She says while looking you up and down.

“Yeah, at the bar,” you manage to get out.

“You’re Jesse’s cousin? Huh, didn’t know you were coming out tonight, if I had known, I would’ve put on a better show,” she smirks as a light blush sweeps over your face. How could such a small comment illicit this small reaction from you? Maybe it was the way she said it, her voice raspy from singing on backup.

“That show was really great, I enjoyed it a lot. Seems like y’all are popular,” you glance over at a small crowd of girls shooting glares in your direction for talking to their bassist.

The auburnette chuckles and glances back, winking at the girls, “Yeah, we got a few.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the faux humility, unfortunately, she catches this.

“What was that?” She laughs, studying your face.

“I can tell already, you’re such a cliche, right? I bet you sleep with all your little fangirls, give them the night of their lives then leave them in the dust, right? Just so you can feed your ego and make yourself feel better for whatever attachment issues you got going on.”

She looks awestricken. You knew her type all too well, I mean you were in a band and you’ve encountered A LOT of band mates are like that. Hell, even rock’s beloved dad, Dave Grohl, did something similar.

“Touché,” she smirks and leans up against the stage, her green eyes hungrily taking you in, “You’re interesting, let me buy you a drink.”

About half an hour later, you’re in the back of her van, panting with her lips on your neck and her knee pressing up against your aching cunt. She’s whispering sweet things into your ear which causes your hips to involuntarily buck up against her hand.

“So fuckin’ needy f’me, aren’t ya?” She mumbles against your neck, “All that talk just for you to melt into my touch,” you can feel her smirking against your neck.

“Shut up,” you say, barely getting it out through desperate whimpers and pants.

The next morning, you wake up in her apartment, alone and half naked, only wearing your panties and a shirt you didn’t recognize. You groan as you stumble out of bed, this hangover might actually be the death of you. You make your way over to the kitchen for some water only to find a sticky note next to some tylenol and water, it reads ‘Don’t forget to lock the door on your way out.’

What the actual fuck. Not even a good morning or at least a hi?

You crumple up the note, leaving it on the counter to hopefully get the message across.

“Typical bassist,” you mutter before leaving.

Later that evening, you facetime your friend, Lila.

“So… she basically told you to get out? What the fuck! You should’ve totally wrecked everything, stolen her shampoos, bleach wash her clothes, pour glitter all ov—“

Laughing you say, “Okay, okay, Lils, I get it but seriously? Glitter is going a little too far.”

“Not far enough, I’d say,” she mutters, “So…. was it good, at least?

“Good? It was total ecstasy but I mean, that’s to be expected.”

Lila cocks her head to the side, obviously confused, “Wha?”

“She’s in a band, meaning, she obviously has a lot of experience.”

“SHE’S IN A BAND???????” Lila’s eyes are practically bulging out of her head, “Wait, nah, girl, this is all on you. Rule number one, never sleep with a girl in a band, they will totally ruin your life. They’re good at giving head because they have to hide how evil they are somehow.”

You groan, “Ugh, I know., I know!” but your mind goes back to last night, the sight of her between your legs, the feeling of her hot breath against your ear, the sight of her on top with your legs draped over her shoulders, the way—

Fuck.

(A/n: This is my first fic since I was like 16 so be nice lol next one will be better, I promise, I just really suck at writing intros)

#ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie fanfic #ellie x y/n #abby and ellie #ellie tlou #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #tlou fic #tlou x y/n #tlou x you #tlou x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #tlou smut #ellie williams x reader #x reader

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star-girl69 · 1 year ago

Text

So It Goes…

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: the one day chiron decides to switch up the capture the flag teams, and everyone knows you’re clarisse’s weakness, In A Good Way sequel!!

i changed my theme it’s me tho promise

a/n: protective clarisse the love of my life i love you i do i think we should get married actually anyways this one is sooooooo i got to explore a more casual side of clar’s and reader’s relationship in this (for like a min) i hope you all enjoy!!

So It Goes… - Taylor Swift

warnings: soft clarisse my love, protective clarisse we KNOW how i feel abt her…., also slightly possessive clarisse i think i love you too, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, clarisse picks reader up which i KNOW is not inclusive (im literally plus-sized idk what the hell am i doing) but it was so good i couldn’t resist, she has like super strength probs so i’ll just believe (she literally could not pick me up i need to stop being delusional), swearing, violence, kissing, a bit suggestive but nothing crazy, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse’s bed is one of your favorite places. You’ve spent so many nights here, wrapped up in her arms, feeling like no one could touch you. And you’ve spent secret days with her hands on your waist, yours in her hair, lips pressed together so tight it’s like you were each other’s oxygen.

You love Clarisse’s bed. And you know Clarisse loves her bed too, seeing as it’s a huge source of pride for her- it’s the best bunk in the cabin, and she gets a major kick over the fact that you sleep here just as much as you sleep in your own cabin.

You’re sitting down, watching Clarisse pace back and forth, her spear in her hand.

“Clarisse,” you say. She brought you here just fo freak out. Now she won’t sit down and let you help her, and she wont just freaking listen. “Clarisse, baby, what’s wrong? Can you at least put your spear down so you don’t accidentally kill somebody? If you kill me with that I’m gonna come back and kill you.”

She stops for a moment and leans her spear up against the wall. You let out a sigh.

“Now just sit down-”

She resumes her pacing.

As much as you love just being in Clarisse’s presence, as much as you know you’re her rock, the only thing that keeps her tethered in the storm she constantly fights through, you need her to let you help her.

“Clarisse!” you stand up, placing your hands on her shoulders. “You’re freaking me out, okay? What happened? I-I’m sure we can fix it, I mean…” you rub your hands up and down your arms, which you know she likes, her muscles are one of her biggest sources of pride.

She sits down, letting you stand in between her legs, her hands moving to hold your hips.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. She’s not very good at handling her emotions, but she’s getting better, and at least she’s able to recognize and apologize when her emotions are hurting other people. Well, you, at least. She breathes out. “Chiron decided to switch the teams.”

And now she had to work with the Athena cabin? The Gods know after the Ares and Athena cabins have captained opposing teams for years, Chiron pretends there’s not, but everyone knows there’s a deep rivalry. More than just friendly competition.

“The Demeter cabin will be on the red team.”

“Okay,” you say, squeezing her shoulders. You aren’t really close with anyone from the Demeter cabin, it doesn’t really bother you much.

“And… the Aphrodite cabin will be on the blue team.”

“Oh.”

You’ve never not been on Clarisse’s team for capture the flag. Not only does the entire red team’s tactic rest on you using your charmspeak to protect the flag, but what the hell are you supposed to do fighting against Clarisse?

She wraps her arms around your waist, flopping back onto her bed and bringing you down on top of her.

“I know it’s all Annabeth and Luke behind this. I’m sure that little smartass has made up some sick plan to make me go insane.”

You scoff, planting your hands behind her head on the bed. “You’re the one who can actually fight. I’m, like, so bad it’s not even funny, Clar.”

“You beat me all the time,” she frowns.

And it’s true, you spar with her at least 3 or 4 times a week, and you win most of the those times. But Clarisse moves slower, she doesn’t hit as hard, she anticipates your next move and doesn’t block it so you can land a hit.

“We both know you let me win.”

“I like seeing you smile,” she says, her own matching smile on her face.

“Okay, you big romantic.” You let your hands slip, laying your head against her chest and your arms flat around her head. “It’s not that big of a deal, Clar. I’m sure it’ll be fine, then Chiron’ll probably switch them back.”

“Annabeth convinced him to do it. She has some sort of plan, Y/N, she does.”

“You’ve mentioned,” you hum. “Stop stressing. Nothing we can do about it.”

“Fine,” she hisses.

She wraps her arms around your waist and throws you to the side so you yelp, now she’s climbing on top of you, laying her head on your chest.

“It’s going to be the worst game of capture the flag in history, you know. I hope you’re happy, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do without you. I mean, I guess I could move that group in the west side to just south of the flag, so that’ll be a bit more for them to get through. Oh, I’ll stick that one good archer on the ground- no, no that wouldn’t work, I need him in the trees. But I’ll move his position-”

—-

You walk to the woods together. When it’s time to split up, Clarisse grabs you by your armor and points her finger into your chest.

“Clar, what the hell are you doing-”

“Don’t do anything I would do.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you smile, blinking once to avoid rolling your eyes at her ridiculousness.

She smirks, her arm squeezing your waist. She pecks you on the lips before pulling away completely.

“Done making out?” Jackie asks, her and Tyla suddenly appearing next to you.

“It was one kiss, Jacks. Are you sure we have the same Mom?”

“No, honestly.”

You fall into step with the two of them, laughing as you make your way through the woods and to the edge of the river.

Chiron makes his usual speech, the conch sounds, and everyone starts moving around.

Annabeth finds the three of you soon after. Tyla and Jackie fall away, following your other siblings. Annabeth always has this calculating look on her face, like she knows something you don’t, a true child of Athena. You have to admit, she really is one of the smartest people you know.

“Annabeth,” you smile. “I guess you want me by the flag?”

“No, I debated that, but I decided against it.”

She smirks and looks at you before spinning around, pointing to Luke and his team members who are always in charge of getting the flag.

“You’ll be with Luke.”

You frown. “You do realize I have absolutely no skill in battle, right, Annabeth?”

“Yeah, but skill doesn’t matter when you have power. Power over someone.”

“Oh, okay. Who do you want me to charmspeak-”

“Charmspeak whoever you come across, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You have power over Clarisse. I know she’s defending the flag today, right?”

She looks at you sharply.

You smile. “Oh, I really don’t know. But if you say so, sure.”

She starts walking, you follow her.

“Clarisse doesn’t talk strategy to you? I mean, I talk Luke’s ear off.”

“Oh, no, she does, I just don’t really retain any of it.”

She huffs a small sound of laughter.

“I know she’ll be there,” she affirms.

“If you say so!” you say, all sing song, Luke smiling as he meets your eyes.

“Y/N! How’s it feel to finally be on the winning team?”

“I love being on the red team, thanks for asking.”

“Ha. You’re so funny, are you sure you’re not a child of Apollo?”

“Too beautiful,” you glide your hands down your face. “I get it from my godly mother.”

“Luke, do you know what you’re doing?” Annabeth asks.

“Yes ma’am.”

She smiles and walks away, talking to more people while you can faintly hear Clarisse shouting at people. With the change in tactic, you know she’s been slightly stressed, but she won’t allow herself to feel anything other than confidence, outwardly.

She still walks tall. She still grips her spear in her hand a little to tight. She’s a bit too greedy with the things that are hers, she grabs on a bit too tight, but you know it’s just because she’s scared. You like it.

If this were a regular game, you would probably be walking next to Clarisse right now, or kissing her goodbye while you follow Matty and everyone else to go protect the flag.

When you and Clarisse first started dating, she was slow to be so affectionate, but the more of her walls you started breaking down the more you found a complicated teenage girl who felt unloved, and had a lot of love to give too.

The more confident she became in your private relationship, the more she wanted everyone to know. It was her fatal flaw, pride, hubris. She wanted everyone to know she was yours and your were hers. She wanted everyone to be jealous.

“I’m so glad we don’t have to wear those horrible earplugs today. They always make me worried. Someone could be shouting a few feet away and none of us would hear.”

“Stop gloating, Luke.”

“I’m just expressing my gratitude, Y/N, is that not allowed?”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Oh, oh, I know. You’re sad, aren’t you?”

“Sad?” you snort.

“Yeah, sad. Sad you aren’t with Clarisse. You’re devastated, destroyed, wrecked.”

You put your hand on your sword. “Who are you… and what have you done with Luke Castellan? Luke doesn’t know that many words…”

He hits your shoulder. “Shut up, Y/N.”

—-

You’re walking through the woods.

Not sneaking around in stealth, not running, but walking.

You’ve come across a few of your former team members, but one of the blue team just tackles them and you tell them to turn around and count to 5,000.

For some reason, it’s worse than sitting by the rock, waiting for someone to make a play for the flag. At least at the rock you’re surrounded by all these people you know. You and Matty are usually talking, Marjorie sometimes joins, and you all have fun bullying Corey for that one time he didn’t see the blue team coming.

Luke’s voice drops to a whisper.

“Here’s your job. You can either, one, go make out with Clarisse in a corner, which shouldn’t be too hard-”

“Luke,” you hit his shoulder. He hisses.

“I’m joking, joking. Just keep her distracted, fight her, maybe pull your shirt down a bit? Oh, or I can just cut it so it’s a bit more revealing-”

“Luke, shut up or else I will make you.”

“It’s not a bad idea-”

“Luke!”

“Sh, sh,” he whispers. “Don’t be so loud, we’re almost to the flag. We’re going for stealth, okay?”

“Oh, really, I didn’t notice,” you deadpan. He looks around.

“Blue team, stealth mode, alright?”

Everyone nods. You roll your eyes. You miss the red team.

—-

After Luke gives you the ok, meaning the blue team has successfully surrounded the red team and the clearing, you take a step forward.

Annabeth was right. Clarisse is there.

It’s fitting. If you can’t be there, she would.

You look up at Corey, but he hasn’t noticed any of you yet. You frown, thinking about how he’s probably going to get beat up.

“Clarisse!” you shout. You watch everyone jump into defensive positions. She can’t see you yet, but she stares in the direction of your voice, her eyes squinting, smiling softly.

“Luke?” she shouts. “That you?”

You frown.

“What the hell?” you say, stepping forward. “You don’t recognize my voice? I thought that was really smart. Like, a cool way to reveal myself, I don’t know.”

You come into the clearing, sword by your side.

Clarisse’s smile drops.

“I-I- no, baby, I just wasn’t expecting Annabeth to send you here-”

“Do I really sound like Luke?”

“No,” she says, immediately. “You sound like an angel.

Matty laughs. Clarisse stabs his foot with the end of her spear. She smiles at you.

“Is Luke here though?” Marjorie asks, subtly trying to look through the trees.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you do,” Matty snorts.

“You’re going to tell me though right, baby?” Clar smiles, stepping closer until she’s right in front of you.

“Obviously not, you didn’t recognize me. I’m, like, really hurt by that Clarisse-”

“Gods, Clarisse,” Matty shouts at the sky, laughing. You didn’t recognize her, and now we’re all fucked!”

“Shut the fuck up, Matty,” she says over her shoulder. She looks at you, smiling again, her hand reaching out to touch your face. “I’ll let you do that thing you’ve always wanted to do.”

You smile, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ll let me give you a makeover? Really?”

“Yes.” Her teeth grit, but she keeps smiling, her thumb rubbing your cheek.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you mutter, your eyes fixing on her spear when you suddenly reach forward, grabbing it from her hands and turning to run away.

The blue team emerges from the woods with war cries, swords start clashing, and it all happens so fast.

The plan was for you to grab her spear, make her chase you around the woods, and hopefully the blue team would be able to overpower the red team without her.

Instead, Clarisse kicks out her foot, tripping you. Then, she catches you and the spear in what you swear has to be a milisecond.

“Clarisse!” you shout, genuinely offended. She beat you so easily. It wasn’t even a fight. You didn’t even get the chance to run.

“Sorry, baby, it’s capture the flag!”

You about to start kicking like a wild animal when she suddenly lets you go. Luke is there, fighting her while you pick your sword up from the ground that fell in the commotion.

One of your team members dropped their helmet and you pick that up too.

You’re not that bad of a fighter, Clarisse just knows everything about you, you tell yourself. But your pride is slightly wounded and you want to prove to her, yourself, and everyone that you’re not just a weak Aphrodite kid or some poor thing that hangs off Clar’s arm.

You can hold your own.

You stick the helmet on and step into the fight. Someone groans and a sword comes wishing through the air, but you block it.

They swing again.

You block it.

You picked up things from Clarisse, and, besides, you weren’t just sparring for fun. She actually teaches you, better than the actual sword practice teacher if your biased opinion is to be trusted.

But you probably just feel that way because she rewards you with kisses.

It seems like you’re actually winning for a second, about to disarm him, when he seems to get fed up with fighting you and suddenly arcs hard over your head, making you lose your footing and letting him kick you.

You land on your back, groaning and trying to catch your breath.

“That was such a bitchy move,” you mumble. He leans over you, about to kick the sword out of your hand-

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Samuel.”

She holds her spear right under his throat, and he finally seems to look at your face instead of just your blue helmet.

“Shit. Sorry. Sorry, Clarisse, I’m sorry.”

She looks like she’s about to kill him but she just pushes him away.

“I was winning,” you groan. “But then he kicked me.”

She kicks him as he walks away.

You expect her to tug you up and start lecturing you but instead she leans down and throws you over her shoulder.

“Wha- Clarisse!”

“That’s enough for you today,” she says, patting the back of your thigh.

“Clarisse, I swear to Hades, let me down!”

“One second,” she mumbles.

When she places you down on the ground again, you’re leaning against a tree. She grabs your hand, frowning at something.

It’s the smallest cut, barely there, but Clarisse of course acts like it’s the end of the world.

“Does it hurt?”

Your eyes fix on Luke behind her, stalking slowly towards her turned back.

“No, Clar, it’s fine. Now I-”

“I think you should go the nurse.”

Your mouth drops open. “Clarisse, it’s a paper cut!”

“And if it gets infected? Go away, Luke, I can hear you.”

He locks eyes with you but ultimately turns around with a very scared and annoyed look on his face.

“Now do you see why I was all messed up? I knew this was going to happen. You were gonna get hurt, and it was going to be my fault.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not your fault, Clarisse-”

“But isn’t it? You would have been at the flag if Annabeth hadn’t known how much you mean to me. Instead, you were here. Instead, you were rushing off to go fight someone-”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, Clar!”

She presses her lips together.

“I can fight too. Not as good as you, but I can. I-I don’t want to be weak, I don’t want to rely on you for everything, it’s- it’s embarrassing.”

You didn’t even know you were feeling this way until you felt it. But it’s always been there, you guess. You always watch Clarisse spar and know she could never do anything like that with you. And you thought you were fine with it, and you are fine with having things that you like and things that she likes- but you don’t want to be so useless anymore.

She’s silent for a second.

“I- I get that. I do. But I just don’t know how to tell you I… I love you without showing it. I’m not good at saying it, you know that.”

“Clarisse,” you frown.

She puts her hands on your face.

“You are… the most precious thing in the world to me, Y/N. I really hope you know that.”

You wrap your arms around her neck, you can feel her heart thump from the fight.

“I know that, Clarisse. Of course I know that. You show me every day, I just- I just want to feel like my own person.”

She grips you tighter. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll teach you to fight. But you have to do it how I say, and you can’t go off and do this-”

You pull back so you can make sure this is real.

“Really?” you smile.

“You have to listen to me, Y/N, and do it slowly, okay-”

“Yes, yes, yes, okay, yes,” you breathe, planting your hands on your face before kissing her. It’s slow, it’s sweet, it’s exactly what you think of when you think of her. You think of the side that’s yours, the side that only you can see.

You break it, leaning down to pick up her spear.

The red team is losing the fight behind you.

“Ok, go win capture the flag. And I’ll stay here. My hand does kinda hurt,” you mumble.

She smiles and kisses your cheek. “Not just a paper cut, huh?”

“Can I still give you a makeover?” you ask as she turns away.

“Maybe!”

—-

y/n: what why did you not recognize me ☹️☹️

clarisse, genuinely terrified: i have no idea what the hell you are talking about please please please don’t take away kissing privileges please please please

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008

(pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!)

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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keyotos · 2 years ago

Note

may i request how blade, gepard, welt, jing yuan and dan heng react to the “what are we?” question (also if you could add a little bit of yanqing and jing yuan father/son dynamic in jing yuan’s part? 😭😭

feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel inspired tho. anyways, luv your works !! <333

the things we do

summary ⎯ late nights, lingering touches, longing looks. it just confuses you. this prompts you to ask the question that usually leads to the downfalls of most relationships: what are we?

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, welt, & jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ i got so excited when i saw this. there's no angst in this btw

dan heng

⎯ dan heng didn't know what you guys were. but if he said that he treated you the same way he would treat march and stelle, that would be a lie.

⎯ yes, he was friendly towards you. but there were things he'd only allow when it came to you. things such as allowing you in his room during late hours; borrowing (stealing) one of his books; distracting him; the list goes on

⎯ so maybe you guys weren't just friends. but if you weren't friends, then what were you?

⎯ dan heng recognizes that there is at least something between you two. sometimes while reading one of his books, you'd lean into him a little too close: closer than friends should be, but farther than two people who are together. it was like there was a wall between the both of you that kept you in the middle ground.

⎯ dan heng realizes that you two may have crossed that line on a cold night.

“dan heng?” you mumble as you felt a dip in your mattress.

“how’d you know it was me?” he mumbled back, breath fanning on your neck. he had his arms wrapped around your stomach, slightly pulling you closer.

it was a stupid question to ask. how could you have not known it was him? you’ve felt the brush of his hands against yours one too many times; felt the way his hands have held onto yours for seconds too long. had he not realized?

“who else would sneak into my room this late at night?” you tensed against dan heng.

⎯ it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep near each other. but that’s the thing: you fell asleep near each other, not next to each other. and especially not falling asleep whilst wrapping their arms around the other person!?!?!?

⎯ dan heng didn’t know what had prompted him to come into your room that night. he didn’t know what had came over him. that night, it was cold and you weren’t in his room with him. so, in a tired dazed, he thought it was completely normal to abandon his room to come cuddle in yours.

⎯ key word: normal. it was normal to be around you. it was normal to want to be around you all the time. it was normal to want to wrap his arms around you and burrow himself in the nape of your neck. it was normal to want to (perhaps) place a chaste kiss on your neck.

⎯ and that’s when dan heng finally realized: that is not normal and he is in love. but he wasn’t going to bring it up. nooooo. no, because it would never work. right?

it was another late night. this time, dan heng was sitting on his bed while reading. he was relaxed today while you could not stop moving. today was the day where you were going to ask the infamous question: what are we?

⎯ it shouldn’t be so scary, but when dan heng and your feelings are involved, it seems as such.

“dan heng,” you ask, looking at the ground, “what are we?”

⎯ dan heng, taken aback, immediately slams his book shut and places his full attention onto you.

“what do you mean?” dan heng gets up and moves closer to you. dan heng already has an answer to his question.

“what are we doing?” you turn, refusing to look at him. “friends don’t do what we do.”

“we are friends,” dan heng places his hand upon yours, it brings you a feeling you’ve grown to familiarize with. “but," he pauses, carefully choosing the next words that come out of his mouth, "we can be more. only if you want," he interlocks your fingers together, holding them close to his side.

dan heng doesn't miss the smile you're trying to bite down as he leans into your touch. when dan heng leads you to the ground to continue reading, you had to physically stop yourself from bursting out in a (embarrassingly large) grin.

gepard

⎯ gepard hadn't put what thought into what the two of you were until tonight. what were you two?

⎯ captain and lieutenant, of course. but do captains and lieutenants share late nights together, reminiscing on childhood memories as they sit thigh-to-thigh next to each other. do they also sneak off during night shifts to get late night dinner? do they also look at the others' lips, dreaming about inconceivable thoughts about the other?

⎯ i mean, maybe? but maybe not.

⎯ then it hit gepard: how long have you two been like this? did the lines start to blur after you started nagging gepard about getting rest? when you helped him take on paperwork in the late hours of the night?

⎯ gepard loved your nagging. he loved spending late nights with you, because even though he has to do mounds of paperwork, at least he was able to spend time with you. he knew he had a duty to belobog, but when you're tugging on his hand, his fingers feeling hot and tingly paired with his burning cheeks, how could he say no?

⎯ but there are always risks. especially when you're a silvermane guard. your lives are simply too risky for anything to ever happen between the two of you. that's why gepard immerses himself in the little moments between you two: moments where he gets to pull you closer into him; when you place your head on his shoulder to rest; when he gets to subtly brush his hands over yours.

⎯ little did gepard know that these actions sent you into a little frenzy. you were pondering where the lines between close coworkers and lovers were drawn. you felt hot every time he touched you; felt brazen when you placed your head on his shoulders. did he feel the same? if he didn't, why was he initiating all these actions?

you asked the question on yet another late night in his office, the both of you doing paperwork. "gepard, what are we?"

⎯ he looked up instantaneously, the sound of your voice immediately getting his attention. when the question itself rendered in his mind, he had to take a second to think. gepard knows you two weren't only captain and lieutenant.

"captain and lieutenant," gepard plays dumb, not knowing how to properly answer your question so soon. your face drops for a second and gepard already wants to rush over and do something to make you feel better.

"you know we're more than that," you trailed off quietly. you took your focus off of gepard and now put your all into finishing your half of the paperwork, taking gepard's response as a sign of rejection. you finished and left for the night. when you bid him goodbye, gepard wanted nothing more but to you pull you in with the slight grasp of his hands on your arm and beg you to stay the night.

⎯ after that, you avoided gepard for a few days. there was distance between the two of you, and gepard was freaking out. had you taken his answer as a sign of rejection?? how does he make it right?? what'll he'll do without you???? how can he LIVE without you?? so, he goes to serval for help.

⎯ the next day he storms throughout the fort to find you. he hasn't spoken to you in a few days, and gepard swore he was going mad.

"yn," gepard rushed to stand in front of you, briefly slamming the door shut. he knew that it was loud, but right now gepard had more important priorities, "i need to talk to you."

his arm was placed on your wrist, turning you around tenderly, "yes, captain?" when you said captain instead of gepard, he felt his heart shatter.

"your question. from a few nights ago," gepard panted out, "i don't know what we are. but i want to find out. with you. only you, if you'd give me another chance," gepard flushed when he said his last sentence. you took notice of this, coming closer towards him.

"you're dramatic, gepard," you teased, pulling him into an embrace. you felt gepard melt within your touch, "i would've given you a chance no matter what."

blade (kinda modern!au-ish).

⎯ the question of the relations between you and blade never dwelled on his mind. you were here, you stayed, and you're happy. shouldn't that be enough?

⎯ blade never gave thought to the little smile he had on his face when he saw you laughing. he never considered why he felt so much more at ease when you were around. he just thought that, because you two were friends, it was normal to have tingly blissful euphoric feelings around you! he would never admit it either, but he always felt so excited when he saw you.

⎯ yeah... who is going to break the news to him

⎯ as much as he tried, blade couldn't ignore the fact that some of the things he felt for you were more than just friendship. he knew he needed to reevaluate his feelings, especially after he saw you with another guy the other day.

⎯ it's unusual for blade to become jealous. he usually isn't bothered by the problems of others. but today, he had a solid reason. you two had made plans to walk around the xianzhou and get lunch. so why would you be associating with this random guy while you had plans with blade?? stupid reasoning but can u blame him?? he's jealous.

⎯ he rushes to your side, interested in who this new mystery guy was. you guys were friends, so it would've been common courtesy to introduce him to you, right? so he marches right up to you and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer into him.

"look at you making new friends," blade smirks as he feels your shoulder collide into his torso, "care to introduce me?"

⎯ you are out here FREAKING TF OUT. is blade jealous??? before this point, you thought your feelings for blade were unreciprocated, no matter how many times you tried to delude yourself otherwise. there were some times where you thought blade had similar feelings towards you, only for it to be debunked.

⎯ but this?? why was he suddenly pulling you so close to him?? why is he practically giving your friend the death stare?? is he jealous? he couldn't be: you two aren't even together. but is it possible that blade does reciprocate your feelings?

you try to avoid blade's eyes, making sure he doesn't see you flush, "this is [friends name]. he just moved here, i was just showing him around." you can feel your skin start to warm.

⎯ what does this mean? why is blade acting like this? are you two friends or not? is he just pulling your leg? these questions raced through your head as you followed him to the restaurant you two agreed to get lunch at.

your silence did not go unnoticed by blade. as someone who was usually very chatty and upbeat, you were exceedingly quiet today. "is something wrong?" he asked, tone less cockier than the one he used earlier.

⎯ yes something is wrong. you're confused on where the both of you lie. have you crossed the line? has he crossed the line? there were nights where you laid side by side, hearts both fluttering as you relaxed in the silent. there were also nights where you felt as though your heart would explode if blade had brushed a hand through your hair once more. but after blade's little stunt today, it left you confused on where he lay in the entire equation. you had to find out.

"what... what was that earlier?" you muster up the courage to look up at him. you're sitting across from him, legs almost touching his. if today was under different circumstances (and a different universe in general), this could be considered a date.

⎯ your question made blade lose this breath. maybe you caught onto the fact that he was jealous. blade fidgeted with his hand under the table; now that you've caught on, is now the time to sort out his feelings? blade realized that you two may not just be friends. but he hasn't thought about what you two would be if you weren't friends. and he'd sound like an asshole if he just responded with i don't know.

"just wanted to know who your friend was," blade diverted. it was an obvious and blatant lie, even he knew it.

"don't be like that," your eyes softened. you rested your head on your hand as you took a deep breath. if you weren't as hyper-focused on what blade's nexts words were going to be, you would be able to easily find your answer based on the way blade is admiring you. the way the sun hits your face perfectly, making you glow right across from him. you looked divine.

"what are we?" you finally asked. "are we really just friends?" you accentuated the last sentence with a small hint of hope in your voice; hope that may have implied you were wishing to be more than friends.

blade paused, trying to carefully construct his sentence. it would take hours for him to describe how he truly felt about you. it would take even longer to decipher his feelings towards you. so for now, he settles with this, "no. but whatever you want, i will grant it for you. and if you want to talk about it, i'll talk about it with you, because i'll be there for you. that i can assure you."

and you smile, because even though that answer was slightly incomplete, it meant that there was a sliver of hope after all.

welt yang

⎯ tbh i don't even think this man knows what a situationship is. but he regards you as a close colleague and his respect for you is very high. so high that some have trouble differentiating whether his feelings towards you are platonic or romantic.

⎯ there are so many nights and afternoons you two just spend together. you're either watching him draw or pressuring him to do art-offs. obviously the winner would be you (welt).

⎯ he spends so much time with you that, over time, the lines between friendship and relationship began to blur. you two were practically acting like a couple already, though you two didn't know it.

⎯ himiko had her suspicions. she knew there was something up with the both of you, but she didn't know if it was official or not. it would be embarrassing if she regarded the two of you as friends if the both of you were dating. however, it'd be equally embarrassing if she did the same thing, but vice versa. so she asked!

"so, yn. are you and welt together?" himiko asked out of the blue one day. the two of you were in the parlor car drinking tea whilst welt & the others were trailblazing.

you nearly spit out your tea at the question. before now, you've never viewed you and welt as anything but friends. "where did that question come from?" you quickly retorted.

himiko raised her eyebrows in shock, "are you serious?" she gave you a confused look, which slowly turned into a look of realization, "oh shit, i didn't just ruin your secret relationship right?"

you were baffled, "what?! no, no there is nothing going on between me and welt," you quickly downed your tea as a way to get rid of your blush (fluster = stupid). "where did you even get that idea from?"

himiko gave you a pitiful look, as if she knew something that you didn't. "everyone thinks you two have something going on. i mean, have you noticed the way he looks at you? and have you heard your little couple-y banter?"

"we don't 'couple-y banter,' himiko," you denied. himiko raised her eyebrow once more. "and he looks at me like a normal person would."

"yn, he looks absolutely enamoured with you every time he even glances at you."

⎯ from then on, you began analyzing everything that welt did. the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, etc. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. except for the fact that your heart raced the more you looked at him. and the way you felt like you were being transported to another world every time he would rest his hand on your shoulder. and welt was completely oblivious to it.

⎯ does he know about this? does he know about the grip he has on you? does he think you two share "couple-y banter????"

⎯ you couldn't take it anymore. at this point, you were desperate to know. partially because you felt as though everyone knew except you, but also partially because you needed to clear out these rampant feelings for your colleague.

"welt," you spoke with utmost seriousness in your voice, "what are we?"

⎯ now, welt did not expect this. he thought he was being subtle about his feelings. he thought the way his hands would slightly brush over yours was subtle. he thought that he wasn't being obvious. so how did you know??

"is there⎯something between us?" you stared at him, desperate for answers.

⎯ welt took your questions as rejections. the way your tone shifted to seriousness; the way you looked so worried; who else would act like this if they weren't going to reject someone? but alas, better to get it over with. things on the express may be more awkward, but it would've been awkward either way.

"i have feelings for you, yn," welt calmly stated. "i have for a while now. so, on my part, there is something between us. however, i completely understand if you feel differently."

you took a sigh of relief. this wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. plus, who said getting with welt was going to be negative?

"luckily for you," you leaned closer, "i don't," you grinned.

jing yuan

⎯ jing yuan was completely unaware of any romantic speculations between the two of you. of course, people talked, but it wasn't like he would pay attention to them. he was too busy focusing on you (how ironic).

⎯ jing yuan thought everything was completely normal between the both of you until yanqing brought it up.

"when is your partner coming over again? if they're coming soon, tell them i'm ready to beat them at chess," yanqing boasted proudly.

"i think you're mistaken, yanqing. i don't have a partner," jing yuan furrows his eyebrows in confusion. who would yanqing even mistake as jing yuan's partner?

"oh really? so the person that comes over every now and then with the horribly baked goods is not your partner?" yanqing was referring to you, of course. practically the whole entire world knows about your terrible baking skills.

"no? why would you think that?" jing yuan crossed his arms.

"the way you look at them. you're also really gentle with them. you're not cocky or like, smug. and you're always looking out for them," yan qing answers.

"okay, but i'm also gentle with you. and i always look out for you as well. what is the difference?"

yanqing sighs, as if jing yuan was the child in the room. "you'll understand soon enough," yanqing lectures.

⎯ jing yuan started to think then. he interrogated yanqing about his reasoning for the assumption, curious on how anyone could ever think that. but then he also realized that anyone also meant a lot of people. it wasn't just yanqing that felt this way; it was nearly everyone that knew the both of you.

⎯ jing yuan thinks you two are just platonic. keyword being thinks. with his job, he tries to avoid romantic connection most of the time, fearing for his future partner and more. but with you, jing yuan feels that connection there, but he's just ignored it so much that he thinks it's gone. little did he know that those feelings were still there, wild and unbridled.

⎯ one day you come over again, terribly burnt goods in your bag as per usual, and it seems like everything is normal. you casually talk with jing yuan like always. he still doesn't get why yanqing thought of you two as a couple.

your conversation is very casual and platonic. that is, until yanqing comes in, "i smelled burnt things and i knew you came, yn," he waved, "we need to play chess soon, before jing yuan," yanqing narrows his eyes, "starts training." yanqing smirked and immediately jing yuan knew he was up to no good. "we can talk about how jing yuan wouldn't stop asking questions about you the other day."

⎯ jing yuan swore his eye twitched. he was about to hunt down the little kid before melodic sound of your laughter captured his attention. and maybe, just maybe, jing yuan wasn't thinking anymore.

⎯ a few days passed and his feelings have not changed from, well, ever. jing yuan finds himself more and more entranced by you every time you come over. he finds himself falling deeper and deeper into you after yanqing's comment.

⎯ this has not gone unnoticed by your eyes, however, as jing yuan seemed to be getting more and more obvious. he'd gaze at you longer than usual, check up on you more often, be more affectionate. it was uncanny, but it was appreciated. besides, you had similar feelings for him too.

"are you two together yet?" yanqing whined as you took one of his chess pieces. "no," you, "why? want me around more?" you teased.

"yes," yanqing immediately responds. you didn't expect such a fast response. "so you'd buy me food when my allowance runs short. or better yet, convince the general to get me food. he'd practically listen to anything you say."

⎯ within these short days, you find yourself more and more intrigued. intrigued, yet confused. when and where were the lines drawn between you and jing yuan? and does he really feel the same, or is yanqing exaggerating.

you spontateously popped the question on jing yuan one night. yanqing was asleep (thank god), so no sneaky quips from him during this moment. "what are we, jing yuan?"

the sound of his name on your lips made jing yuan lose his mind; it nearly distracted him from your question at hand. "we are together, according to yanqing," he joked. you, however, were serious.

"do you want us to be together?" you peer up at him, "because i wouldn't mind," you say the last part so quietly that jing yuan has to lean down to hear you.

jing yuan grins; it's not a grin of a (so called) scoundrel, but a grin of a man who is in love. he takes you in an embrace and secretly thanks yanqing in his head, all whilst pulling you closer within him.

jing yuans was so insanely long bc i tried to include all the father son moments 😭😭 idek if it’s father son.

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koenigami · 1 year ago

Text

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART.

wriothesley x fem!reader summary : spending your night far away from everything and everyone with your lover in a cabin on a cold night, you finally uttered your deepest wish to him. wc : 3k tags : +18, smut, fluff, established relationship, talks about children, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, wrio about to unleash his breeding kink

The fire casted shadows along the walls as it danced in the fireplace, the warmth and crackling of burning wood creating a cosy ambience that could have made you fall asleep right then and there on the floor. Cold winters in Fontaine weren’t unusual yet you could not remember the last time you had seen thick layers of snow like the ones that currently covered the meadows and mountains of your homeland like large fluffy clouds.

A cold breeze rushed inside the little wooden cabin and made you shiver when Wriothesley slipped inside, nudging the door shut with his foot while carrying piled up pieces of wood in his arms. You smiled at the sight of his reddened nose and cheeks, flakes of snow sprinkled all over his hair and slowly melting away, leaving back a trace of slightly damp curls.

“Hope this will be enough for the night.” He sighed, neatly stacking the wood in the little basket beside the fireplace before he joined you on the woven carpet. “Good thing you stayed inside. It’s so damn cold.”

“‘Course, otherwise I would have turned into an icicle.” You smirked, remembering how Wriothesley earlier had threatened to tie you to the bed because you had begged him to let you accompany him outside to get the wood. Apparently, wanting to watch your handsome boyfriend use his astonishing strength to chop wood had been too much to ask for. However, the shriek that you let out when his bare hands touched your neck was proof enough that staying inside had not been such a bad idea.

“Shared sorrow is half the sorrow.” You grabbed his wrists, liberating yourself from the frosty feeling on your skin, and instead tried to gently envelop his hands in your smaller and especially warmer ones. Wriothesley studied you with curious eyes as your thumbs traced tender circles along the back of his hands while warming them up with your warm breath.

“You don’t need to do that.” Your movements halted, and you looked up at him befuddled. He went out by himself in that freezing cold, the least you could do was make sure that he was warm and- “Share my sorrows.”

Bearing others burdens on his own shoulders was a piece of cake for Wriothesley, because somehow he always managed to take care of them very easily. Yet the melancholic smile that he would shoot you every time you stated the desire to help him was a clear sign of a deeply rooted self-destructive habit. And despite knowing that it was only a way to keep you away from any further unnecessary trouble, in some situations it felt more like a brick wall that he cemented between the both of you.

“You’re right.” You stated matter-of-factly, leaning over to ruffle his hair and ridding him of the residue snowflakes. “But I want to. And the next time you threaten to tie me to a piece of furniture, I’ll simply handcuff you to the bed.”

“Threatening me with a good time, huh? Sweetheart, you should really work on your bargaining strategies.” His smug smirk turned into a lighthearted chuckle when he saw you scoff and turn your head away from him in annoyance. Though your body did not resist even an ounce when one of his arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer against him into a tight embrace. You instinctively snuggled into his side, the knitted pullover that he was wearing making him look tamer and more cuddlesome than his usual dress shirt and tie.

Coming here was a good idea. Far away from Wriothesley’s duties as well as your own work, no court cases or due dates for your reports; you were grateful for some uninterrupted shared time with him even if only for a few days. It’s what you both were in need of. Especially since there were matters that had somehow been lingering on your mind and soul for a while now-

Soft tender touches were shared as the snowfall outside the window slowly started to get heavier. His hands along your hips and waist, sliding underneath your pullover to caress and feel the heat of your skin, your lips on his jaw and cheeks, feeling the light stubble on his face. Slow and teasing movements that made your skin tingle and heart do somersaults, the awareness of how happy this man’s presence was making you, bringing a genuine smile to your lips.

“Want me to make some tea?” You eventually asked when you detached yourselves from each other for a moment. Tilting your head slightly, you looked at him. The fire casted an orangish light over the side of his face, the flame reflecting and swirling in the deep blue of his eyes and risking hypnotising you if you wouldn’t stop staring right into them.

“Nah, maybe later.”

“Did you just deny an offer of tea? Are you sick?” You giggled and watched his own lips form into a wolfish grin. In the blink of an eye, you were tackled and pinned to the carpet while Wriothesley’s body now loomed over yours and caged you between his arms. “I see so now it’s sex over tea?”

With nothing but the fire illuminating the cosy bedroom, you looked so ethereal. Your hair was sprawled around your head like a halo, and your skin felt so soft and warm as he glided his fingertips along your cheek and further down to your neck where he started littering light fleeting kisses. “Of course not, my love. It’s you over tea.” He spoke between each kiss. “You over everything.”

A gasp escaped you when the sweet kisses turned into teasing bites, heat already pooling between your legs at the way he sucked on your skin, finishing his markings with light traces of his tongue. Your legs instinctively spread, letting him slot himself between them as he kept assaulting your neck, tasting you, inhaling you in such a fervent way that he made it seem like you have been separated from each other for months. And in some kind of way, it truly felt so. One tiring day after another had led to the both of you being so exhausted and depleted of energy that your shared bed had solely served as a way to recharge your batteries before the next same draining day would arrive with the same taxing work and tasks to be completed.

His breath hitched when your hands slid into his hair, and with the tight grip you had on his strands, you noticed him lower his body, his hips grinding against yours and letting you feel the prominent growing bulge in his pants.

“Mr. Wriothesley.” You suppressed a wince once you noticed that your attempted comment did not sound as teasing as you had hoped it would when you were so out of breath and desperate for him. “Don’t tell me we’re about to have sex on the floor when there’s a king size bed right next to us.”

“Oh, shut up.” Blindly reaching to his side, Wriothesley tore the soft blanket off the bed, the both of you spreading it properly before you hurriedly settled on top of it. “There, better now?”

Though in all honesty, you could not care less about whether the ground beneath you was cushioned or not, whether you did it on the floor or in a thousands of mora expensive bed, as long as it was him that your hands got to touch, as long as it was him that got under your skin and never let go of you. His patience was slowly crumbling to the ground and disappearing into nothingness as much as yours was. His touches became more eager, with rough hands groping your chest, and lips nearly devouring you, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue- It was so easy for him to make a mess out of you.

The fabric of your jumper was soon bunched up, and your bra pulled further down to let the fat of your tits spill out of it. The warmth of his lips wrapped around your nipples as he started sucking on one while his thumb and forefinger played with the other, the corners of his mouth turning upwards when he noticed you arching your back. “Fuck, missed these tits so much.” He rasped, drunk on your body and the way it felt beneath his hands. His tongue slid around your areolas, sucking and biting at the plump flesh of your breasts until they glistened with his saliva.

Once you two finally pulled back to completely rid yourselves of the clothes and fabrics that created a barrier between you, you were almost astonished at the light shake in your hands and breath, adrenaline and hormones having riled you up like a desperate teenager. Breathless chuckles and giggles echoed through the dimly lit room while you hopelessly struggled to undo buttons here, unclasp a bra there, and unzip and tear off legs of pants. Wriothesley hissed in pain when you harshly tugged the thick woollen pullover over his head, his helix getting caught in the fabric before you yanked it off him a little too harshly.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing over the apex of his ears to soothe the sting, and settled back between your legs which you deliberately wrapped around his waist. Digging your heels into his lower back, you pulled him almost impossibly closer as if any space left between your bodies would physically hurt you. With a hushed sorry, you trailed your mouth along the shell of his pierced ear, hearing and feeling his laboured exhales brush across your face when the pads of his fingers finally stroked along your already soaked folds. He played with you. Smearing your arousal over your clit, the circles he drew on the erected little bud made you let out the sweetest noises, his cock twitching in anticipation while he could barely wait any longer to hear you moan once he was inside you.

Wriothesley carefully drove his thick middle finger inside you, so painfully slow that you keened needily, tightly gripping the blanket underneath you in your clenched fists, knuckles white. Though his exterior seemed far more composed than you were, the hard cock that you caught a glimpse of as it hung heavily between his legs with the irritated and glistening tip, the weight of it brushing against your thigh; your pussy unconsciously clenched around nothing, the empty and aching feeling inside you only getting stronger.

“Oh my god-” You nodded mindlessly with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, pouty lips slightly open in a silent moan when he finally added a second finger, filling you further up. Though you were far away from satisfied, and at the way your fluttering and pulsing walls gripped his fingers he too could tell that you needed more. The indecent squelching sound of his palm slapping against your wet pussy with each thrust was so loud, he couldn’t help but groan knowing that you were in such a desperate need for him, that you needed him to fill you up to the brim and satisfy you over and over again.

“Let me see that pretty tongue.” You felt something in your stomach flutter at the sight of his satisfied smile once you obediently stretched your tongue out, letting him brush his soaked fingers on the pink muscle before dipping them into your mouth. With swirling movements, you made sure to lick them clean, the light suction of your lips making his breath hitch undeniably as he relished the sight in front of him, your pretty doe eyes glistening with moisture as the flame of the fire flickered inside them. “My gorgeous girl, always so good for me.”

“Wriothesley.” You croaked when he retracted his hand, a dribble of saliva running down the side of your mouth while the taste of your own arousal still lingered on your tongue. As you reached down between your bodies to take his cock in your palm, brushing it along your folds to cover him in your juices, you involuntarily sunk your teeth into your lip, gnawing at the raw kissed flesh. No matter how many times you took him, he always made sure you were nice and ready for him, wanting to make this as pleasurable for you as possible. Yet something about the brief burn when your walls stretched around him, the way it sent shivers down your spine and made your toes curl until your body accommodated to his size; you could never get enough of it. “Just fuck me already.”

“Alright, alright. Don’t hurt yourself.” His chest vibrated with a deep airy chuckle when he witnessed your eagerness, his big hand taking a hold of yours to place it beside your head, fingers weaving through yours and giving it a tight squeeze when his free hand guided his leaking tip to your entrance. “Going to fuck my darling real’ good, yeah?”

“Yeah, oh-” The warm mushroom tip entered you, as Wriothesley slowly started fucking himself deeper into you. Inch after inch, he sank deeper, stretching you further before pulling back out, and leaving you a whimpering mess. The hand he had placed on top of your stomach to keep you in place, involuntarily grounded you and you wondered whether he could feel himself in your guts. Because with each thrust that he sank deeper into your dripping wet hole, you swore you could feel him in your throat. “Baby-”

“I know, I know.” He breathed heavily against your ear when he eventually buried himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your skin, and tight walls gripping him like a vice, constantly clenching and unclenching. “Taking me so well. Always so… fuck-”

Wriothesley’s voice died down when he felt you fuck yourself against him as if you were in heat, moaning and gasping every time you lifted your hips off the floor. Your legs were shaking by the time he moved his hand to your sex, thumb quickly brushing back and forth over your clit and making you topper over the edge. Your entire body turned rigid when you came, the intensity of your orgasm would have scared you if it weren’t for Wriothesley’s roaming hands, caressing and reassuring you. You had not even realised the tears running down your temples until he kissed them away, letting you taste the salty liquid when he slotted his lips against yours. “That’s it, I’ve got you, love. Ha, squeezing me so fucking tight.” He mumbled against your mouth. “Don’t think I’ll last much longer like this.”

“Then don’t.” Regaining some control over your body, you were finally able to speak up though with a hoarse voice, and weak legs which you desperately tried to wrap back around his waist. Clasping his neck with your arms and holding onto him as if he was your life line, you moved your hips against his with a frail push, wanting to spur him on. “Wanna see you cum too. Want you to fill me up.”

“W-what?” His own thrusts stuttered when he caught your last sentence, letting your words sink in like honey on a burning wound.

“Want you to cum inside me.” By the expression on his face and slowed movements, you could clearly tell that Wriothesley probably thought that your words were stemming from a spur-of-the-moment decision. Brain fried by pleasure and oxytocin, all words that left your mouth should be taken by a grain of salt, though right now in this moment, there was not a single thing that you were more sure of than the thought and wish that had been occupying your mind for weeks. A small being incorporating the love that you and Wriothesley held for each other. Crawling and toddling around your house, filling it with sweet laughter and cries, while looking just like him. His eyes, his nose, his kind heart.. “Y/n, we can’t just-”

“Been meaning to tell you this for a while now.” The pads of your fingers brushed against his flushed cheeks as you cupped his face in the softness of your palms. His deep blue eyes had taken on a darker shade, staring right into your soul, and you swore that if there was a way to drown into that ocean of blue, you would do it instantly. “Wriothesley, I love you so much. I-I can’t imagine a life without you.”

Another stream of tears followed that made his eyebrows furrow before he gently wiped them away. Of course he had already had similar thoughts. How could he not when you were everything he had ever wanted in his life. Images of a little girl with the same sweet smile as yours, same hair, same attitude-

“Wanna give you a baby.”

“Are you sure about that?” His gaze zeroed in on you, looking for something, just anything that could tell him that you were not being serious, that all of this was nothing but an awful joke, some terrible dirty talk. Though all he could find while gazing into your eyes was nothing but pure love and warmth as you nodded at him. Warmth that seeped into the deepest parts of his body, spreading and filling his heart to the brim with affection for a woman he would always be ready to do anything for. “Sweetheart, you’re-”

You choked with wide blown eyes when his hips all of a sudden snapped against yours, his cock diving into your deepest parts and about to make you fall apart again. “You’re going to be the death of me, ya know that?” His voice quivered the slightest bit as he buried his face in your neck, and with his chest flush against yours, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart as it pounded only for you.

The fire had dimmed by now, the dark red flame covered by ash and residue parts of scorched wood fighting for its last ounce of oxygen, while the heavy snowfall outside had calmed. However, when you let your nails scrape down Wriothesley’s back, leaving red marks beside the already residing scars along his skin, while his body eventually tensed up, fingers digging into the fat of your hips and cock pulsing, coating the walls of your insides in white- You knew that your night had barely even started yet.

“Shit- Can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my kid inside you, darling.”

#wriothesley #wriothesley genshin impact #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact wriothesley

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daengtokki · 4 months ago

Text

part three // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 14.4k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: angst, murder, blood, very brief m/m, bodily penance/self-harm, medication, sex, more blood

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

thank you again to @thackery-blinks, and also this song

˗ˋˏ♡ please reblog/tag if you enjoy, and help my work reach a wider audience. thank you friends!

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST ]

After the second cup of coffee, you start to pay more attention to the time. It feels like an hour has passed, at least, but you can’t be sure, because you have no idea what time it was when the two of you woke up this morning. It’s even colder now, and the draft continues to blow in—that’s how you know he’s still out there. Doing what, though? Being alone, yes…meditating? Punishing himself?

You fill a third cup of coffee and decide to let fifteen more minutes pass before checking on him. You could just get up and go now, but it doesn't feel like your place to question his actions. This is really none of your business. Should you make it your business?

His back is straight, his head is down…you can see the steady puffs of condensation leave his nose. The blanket you pulled from the couch is rolled up under your arm when you push the curtain aside and walk out onto the balcony. It’s even colder than you imagined, now that the walls of his bedroom are gone.

How could he have been out here for so long? Seungmin isn’t made of much; he’s thin. Tall and broad, yes, but thin. And though his body has been warm and comfortable when you’ve been close to him, he can’t possibly keep that warmth in him right now. He doesn’t seem to hear you approach, or kneel at his side. You unfold the flannel blanket, the same one he gave you before, and carefully wrap it around his shoulders, up to his neck. Now he moves a little, and when you rub your hand over his back and shoulders, he opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Why are you out here?”

“Why are you?”

“Come back inside, please”

“Are you sure?” He grabs the blanket and pulls it around him.

“Yes, of course, I’m sure”

He nods, but he doesn’t move yet. Maybe he needs to find some energy first—there’s no way he has any left now. His legs look lifeless and pale, but they still work when he gets his feet flat on the ground. You follow him as he rises, hold his arm, and you’re surprised that he lets you guide him back inside.

He starts toward the door.

“No, you should get back into bed”

“I need some coffee.” His voice is so small, and weak.

“I’ll bring you some”

Seungmin stops, and stands there for a few seconds.

“Please”

When you return, he’s halfway under his covers with the blanket still wrapped around him.

“If you still want to be alone, I won’t stay in here”

“You can stay”

“Okay…” you climb onto the bed, find a spot in the middle, close to him, but not too close, and watch him as he quietly shivers. His cheeks and ears are red and chapped from the wind, and his usually pouty pink lips are pale and barely there against his colorless face. “Get all the way under the covers.” You reach a hand out to touch his neck, and he jumps.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you before”

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me”

“I didn’t?” He reaches out and lifts your shirt, and the marks look even more apparent. A few bruises are already starting to bloom where his fingers pressed. “I did.”

“Lie down, you’re still shivering.” His hand is like ice when you grab it, but he shakes free and sets it flat across the bruises. It feels so good, but you try not to make your content sigh too obvious. “Okay, okay…lie down.”

Seungmin listens this time, and you decide to take a chance and move closer. You still don’t know why he was out there, or why he was torturing himself, but maybe he’ll allow you to wrap an arm around him and pull him even closer. His body is so cold, you’re not sure you have enough heat in you to help, but you’re going to try. You’re not sure why, but you know he would do the same for you.

/ / /

Wrapped up…that’s really the only way to describe him this time. Seungmin’s long limbs are all over you, holding tightly. The look on his sleeping face, at least what you can see squeezed against him, is the most content you’ve ever seen it. He’s sleeping like a puppy curled up in a heated blanket. And that’s exactly how you feel—warm, damp with sweat. Too warm. Seungmin’s heat returned, and then some. His cheek feels like a radiator when you touch it.

“I’m so tired,” he mumbles, moves around a little, then settles again. “Why am I so tired?”

“Because you sat outside for hours and it’s -2 degrees”

His eyes pop open like he’s wondering why someone is in his bed, answering him. He lets go, pushes himself back, and examines you.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

Well, maybe he’s not all there yet. It doesn’t matter. Something about being in bed with him like this again blurs everything. You’re comfortable and warm here, and this is all that’s mattered. You should probably check your messages, your email, your bank account…something—your family might actually be worried enough to send money. It doesn’t matter, though. You don’t plan on going anywhere right now.

“I need to shower, and go out…what time is it?”

“Go out? Why do you have to go out?”

“I have to find…” Seungmin stops and looks at you again. “Someone.”

“Already?”

“Yes”

When did he do this last? Did he do it recently? The last time you asked him, it was in the park, and he told you he killed someone the day you met. After you met, because he didn’t kill you. You can’t even remember how long ago that was, so you close your eyes and think…two weeks, and—

“It’s been two days,” he says.

Oh, it was recent. You find yourself looking around the room as if you missed some clue about his recent activities. Is that why the bedding is all new? Did he do it right here on this bed? “Two days?”

He rises slowly. The arm that’s still draped over your hip slides away, and he stumbles a little as he gets to his feet. “Yeah, on Friday. After I thought you left.” And he’s gone without another word.

You hear him in the shower—he’s in there for a very long time, and when he finally comes out, a cloud of steam follows him. He’s still dripping wet, and his hair is slicked back so tight, he almost looks like a different person. And he’s completely naked. No towel wrapped around his waist, no shorts, just wet skin glowing in the sunlight. Seungmin makes himself more coffee, an iced one this time, and doesn’t say a word as he sips and looks absently at his phone.

He takes his coffee to the bedroom, and he comes back out a few minutes later, partially dressed. All you can do is watch, nervously, as he approaches where you sit at the corner of the couch. Why are you so nervous? Seungmin isn’t even looking at you— he’s staring at the floor, and then at whatever small thing he has in his hand. He holds it out and waits for you to take it before speaking.

“Get whatever you need, or whatever you want…both,” he says softly—practically whispers it. “Max it out, I don’t care.”

If you didn’t assume he planned on doing this since last night, you’d think it was his indirect way of apologizing. Seungmin clearly has money to throw at things to make them go away, or to bring them closer to him. You’re not sure which of those he wants from you right now.

This was your first time shopping in Seoul, and it was overwhelming being on your own in the crowds, but you have to admit it had its moments of calm, and even a few moments of joy—particularly when you found a dress very similar to one that you lost, and especially when you stumbled upon something that reminded you of Seungmin. It seemed silly to get, but it seemed still to pass up, too, and you haven’t decided yet if you’ll give it to him. But you have it just in case. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood after a few more hours of solitude. Maybe he won’t be as bad as you think he’ll be at accepting gifts.

The apartment is dark, and very quiet when you return. Seungmin gave you a copy of both keys, and the code to the final lock—being trusted with that did feel good, and it made your morning a little better after his standoffish attitude. It does make it feel like last night's comments probably weren’t the truth, but you still have to wonder about everything else. You set the bags down and look around; the kitchen light is on, and you can see some soft light coming from the crack beneath his bedroom door. There is sound, but it’s very quiet and you can’t catch any type of conversation.

The closer you get, the more confusing it becomes, until it finally hits you—you think you know what you’re hearing, and it throws your heart into your throat, and you feel a little sick. Seungmin is moaning, over and over, but it’s not quite how he sounds when he’s with you. It’s a steady rhythm, and then he stops…starts again, stops. It almost sounds forced, but he’s the only sound you can hear. Maybe he’s getting himself off; maybe last night wasn’t enough. You don’t want to interrupt him if that is what’s going on, but when you hear another voice, you really start to feel sick.

“Is that good?” the voice says. It sounds masculine, but still, it’s hard to tell for sure. You can’t understand it, anyway. You don’t hear Seungmin’s response, but the other person laughs, and you feel your entire body start to heat up. It could be from anger, or embarrassment, or sadness...all of the above. You feel pretty stupid standing there, but it’s not like Seungmin is your boyfriend. He’s not yours, and you guess you’re not his, either. No, he just took in a stray and gave it unlimited money to shop, absolutely no big deal. Nothing serious.

“Yeah, you are…” Still the nameless, faceless voice. Definitely masculine. “Come back, don’t be a tease.”

You take a few steps back. The language barrier means you can’t say for sure what’s happening behind that door, but it feels obvious. The deep, sensual whispers and the moans can only equal one thing.

“Yeah, keep going”

It’s Seungmin’s voice that time. And then everything goes quiet. A few seconds later, he comes, loudly. And then it’s quiet again.

You take a few more steps back until you hit the side of the kitchen counter, and it’s then that you hear a loud thud. Very loud, like something heaving hitting the ground.

“Fuck…what are you doing?” This time, the voice sounds…angry? No, surprised, confused. It’s hard to tell even as you listen as carefully as possible. Your head is swimming with every strange thought, though. “No…stop, please.”

“What the fuck?” You say out loud to nobody. Your legs are trembling. Another loud thud makes you jump, and then you hear Seungmin. It almost doesn’t sound like him, but you know it’s him. It’s big, and deep, and unlike any version of him you’ve heard…

“Fucking…hold still. Fuck, give me a break.”

The door shakes, the doorknob turns, and as soon as it swings open, all you see is the stranger's terrified face. He’s half-dressed, jeans still mostly zipped, but he slips a little as he makes a run for the door. Seungmin is right behind him, and you just barely see the shine of his knife as he runs by.

Your legs tremble more, and you don’t know how you’re still standing. The feeling of needing to vomit now hits, but nothing happens when you lean forward—just a dry heave, and then your throat tightens right back up. He doesn’t see you…he has one thing in his sights, and it’s almost at the door you’re pretty sure you left unlocked.

The man stumbles again, and Seungmin grabs him by the back of the neck as he falls forward onto the carpet. But he screams, and it’s so loud. You see the glint again as he pulls back and plunges it into the side of his neck. The sound…you think you actually hear the metal as it slides through his skin and tendons and cartilage. Did you really hear it all the way over here? You did hear Seungmin’s angry growl, and you can still hear his heavy, uneven pulls of breath. Finally, you fall to your knees and take one deep breath. The light-headedness outweighs the feeling of vomiting, but you manage to keep it together.

“Son of a bitch,” he says, in English this time, and you definitely hear the blade being pulled out and thrown to the side. It bounces and makes a mess everywhere it hits, and it lands right next to one of the bags you brought home.

Seungmin sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair, “another fucking mess.” He says it in a sing-songy voice as he turns his head and looks for his knife.

You can see his face now, and it changes immediately when he notices the bags. His eyes grow, and his tongue pokes out a little between his lips. First he looks at his work again, and the mess of blood slowly pouring onto the carpet. Then he looks at the door, which you know he can see is unlocked. If the stranger would have beat him to it…well, you’d rather not think about that. Finally, he turns his head. His eyes seem to soften as they land on you, and something about his face looks guilty.

“Hey,” he says, and very carefully stands up. Seungmin towers over the body, examines it again, and then adjusts his shorts. It’s the only thing he’s wearing, except for two silver necklaces, and a little bit of blood on his stabbing hand. “Hey…I thought you’d be out longer,” he quickly closes the space between you and kneels a few feet away. "Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

You stay in your spot and watch him as he heads for the sink to wash his hands…once, and then a second time.

“You okay?” He kneels again, much closer this time, and places his hand on your knee. “Hm?” Seungmin keeps his face relaxed, and his eyes heavy, as if he’s trying his best not to make this seem as serious as it really is. To him, it is nothing, you think, and he may be lacking a bit in empathy, but he’s smart enough to know that what you just witnessed was a lot. “Do you wanna stand with me?”

No, you don’t, but you nod anyway and give him your hands.

He stares at you for a long time, silent, wondering what to say next. “Why don’t you go take a long, hot shower? I’ll set some clothes in there for you.”

“Why?”

“Because when you come out, you’ll feel a little better, and everything will be back to normal.”

“Normal?”

“Yeah, mostly. Please, just give me…30 minutes.”

“How are you going to fix this in a half an hour?”

That’s a very good question. Seungmin can clean up in that span of time, but he certainly can’t dispose of this body, as well. Luckily, he usually has a backup plan floating around in his head. “You’ll have to believe me.” He relaxes the vice grip he has on your wrists and slides his hands up your arms. “Try to.”

/ / /

He digs out the hard shell suitcase from the living room closet, and thanks himself for choosing a smaller kill this time. This is not how he likes doing things, and the knife is also not his favorite, but what he really doesn’t like is having an audience. This is a first. At least he didn’t know until after the fact.

As soon as the body, his shoes, his shirt, and whatever else he took off, is out of his sight, he focuses on the carpet. He rolls the rug up neatly, cuts it off as cleanly as possible, and wraps it as tightly as he can in several layers of garbage bags. Luckily, nothing made it down to the hardwood floor. Only a few little spots from the knife need to be cleaned. And the knife, of course. The biggest problem now is how he’s getting this down 26 floors to the basement, two separate times before he has a chance to get to the bedroom.

Seungmin tries his best, and he underestimates how good he really is. He locks everything away in his basement storage, for now, and gets back to the apartment with time to spare. Maybe you’ll give him a few extra minutes. Or maybe you’ll stay in there until he comes to get you.

The bedroom isn’t bad, but you know what was going on in here. He pulls off the bedspread and replaces it with a heavy blanket, just big enough to cover the king-size bed. The clothes on the floor get tossed in the hamper. Everything is thrown back in his drawer, neatly, or in the trash. He’s never worked so fast, because he’s never had to, and he really hopes he never has to speed run this again.

Last, he looks down at himself. He’s sweating, and out of breath, but luckily, he can’t find a splatter of blood on him. He rips off the tshirt and sweatpants, and replaces them with fresh ones.

You still haven’t made a sound, thirty-seven minutes later, so Seungmin knocks… “Hey, do you need anything?”

“Can I come out?”

He smiles at your small, timid voice. “Yes, you can come out.”

Seungmin looks around with you, a little paranoid he forgot something in his rush, but everything looks normal. Everything except the missing piece of carpet. He follows as you walk over to inspect the area, and when you seem satisfied, he follows into the bedroom.

“Where is it, the body?” You look around carefully. This is the first time you really explore his bedroom, and Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind when you end up at one of his bookshelves.

“Not here, not in the apartment.” He watches your hand reach for the music box, but you don’t open it. Your finger slides over the lid, and then you move on to the withering vase of flowers.

“You need some fresh heliotrope. We can change the water, though…they might perk up for another day.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Seungmin’s heart starts to race, and he doesn’t know why. It picks up even more when you return to the music box, gently pop the latch, and open it. He holds his breath, but luckily, he didn’t wind it. It’s quiet.

“Oh, this…” a dainty silver chain is pinched between your fingers, but you examine it closely before you continue, “no, it’s almost the same.” You hold it up so the St. Michael medallion hangs and sways like a pendulum. “Is this yours?”

“It belonged to my mother. So did the music box.” Seungmin reaches out and grabs the charm between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, I guess it’s mine.” How did we get from there, to here? he thinks to himself. You don’t ask him anything else—you carefully set the necklace back inside, close it, and pick up the vase of flowers.

“Where did you get these? Is there a greenhouse nearby?

It takes so much of his energy not to tell you exact truths right now, and he doesn’t know why. Seungmin can’t help but want you to ask him what happened; what did you walk into? Why aren’t you more shaken by this? You did have time to think in the shower, but thinking is one thing, and demanding more information is another. He was actually ready to explain himself. “Yeah, sort of.”

“Can we go get more?” Your voice fades as you head for the kitchen, to the sink, where you carefully replace the water in the vase.

No, Seungmin doesn’t think he can handle that right now. He’s never quite sure when he can, and he usually has to force himself. That might be the case soon. He does need to replace these.

“You gonna dry these, too?”

“…are you okay?”

He assumes by the long silence and the way you’re staring at the flowers…probably not. It was a good act, but you still don’t say anything when you walk back to the bedroom and set the vase back in its spot.

“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Again, you leave the room. Seungmin is beginning to dislike not getting a proper response from you. “Dammit…will you please just answer me?”

You’ve been trying to think of a way to answer him—you really have. This entire day, aside from your alone time shopping, has been strange, and so uncomfortable. He can’t possibly expect you to just be okay, though…Seungmin isn’t stupid. He just wants something, anything besides you changing the subject again. But how are you supposed to tell him the kill wasn’t the worst part? Or that you weren’t even completely sure he was telling you the truth about his killing? You actually thought for a moment that he made the whole thing up, or exaggerated. You don’t have to wonder about that anymore. He did it, and it wasn’t his first time. “I’m okay, it was just,” you think, stall for another few seconds, “hearing you in there with someone else caught me off-guard.”

“Oh, that’s all? I thought I scared you...set off another panic attack, maybe.” The look you give him makes him revisit his response. “It was just a blowjob, I barely touched him, but that will happen again.”

“I know”

“You're jealous?” Seungmin smirks and takes a step toward you. “Is that it?”

“No, I’m not jealous,” you lie. What a stupid lie. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Nobody else lives in my house, or spends my money.” Another step. “Right?”

“Yes”

Close enough to kiss, but no. He reaches out, touches your neck, and leans forward as he does, “nobody else sleeps in my bed.” You can see yourself in his unblinking eyes, until he’s even closer. His lips ghost over your forehead, moving slowly over your temple, and to the spot just above your ear. He kisses once. “Just you.”

A moment of courage comes over you—he’s so close, and he smells so good, and you need to touch him. His hips feel good in your hands, and when he makes a sound, you move them slowly up his sides. You haven’t forgotten, he’s sensitive here.

Seungmin moves down until his breath tickles your ear, “but nobody touches you,” he kisses again, “or I’ll kill them.”

“I don’t want anyone else”

“Good. Now…are you gonna show me what you bought?”

/ / /

“I can try some, right?” He leans back on the couch, yawns, and stretches. Everything suddenly feels very normal. He feels like himself right now, and you suspect it’s his post-kill high.

The way his eyes follow you all over the room is suffocating, though. For some reason, it's making you feel shy, and way too seen. You can’t figure out what it is he sees in you, and what wants from you, and from all of this. What are you giving that somebody else couldn’t? If you knew what he looked for in his victims, maybe it’d be easier to figure out, but you don’t know. You don’t know why he talked to you that morning.

“Yeah, you bought it”

One of the things you bought, something you definitely didn’t need, was 70,000 won almond blossom tea. You only wandered into the shop to escape the crowd, but the owner let you try a sample, and it was impossible to pass up after tasting it. The scent, and the flavor took you back to the warmth of him wrapped around you this morning. It felt good.

Seungmin sneaks up behind you, and when his hand squeezes your waist, the hot water almost ends up on the counter. “It’s pretty…it smells nice,” he’s so close, you can almost feel his lips on you. “How long?”

“Two minutes.” You didn’t think brewing tea would make him so touchy and sweet, but you’ve started expecting pretty much anything from him. “Maybe a little less.”

“Show me something you bought”

“Pick something”

He slides away and heads for the three large bags at the end of the couch, and then he peeks in each one. “Okay, let’s try this one.” He reaches in and pulls out a smaller bag from inside the large one.

“Oh, maybe not that one…”

“Why not?”

“Pick something else”

“Okay, I’ll try again.” He reaches into another large bag, and again, pulls out a small one. “This one, you can’t say no.”

You nod and hand him his tea, “I won’t say no,” and take a sip. He does, too, and you watch him. “Do you like it?”

Before he answers, he takes one more slow sip, and a smile appears. His cheeks round out, and you see the shine of his teeth behind his lips. “I do…it’s nice and sweet.”

“Good,” you peek in the small bag and pull out a flat white box.

Seungmin watches the little golden movements as he swirls his cup, closes his eyes, and drinks again. Memories pop up in his mind: the kitchen, and the sun coming in through the window above the sink. His favorite chair—it faced the stove where he watched her cook every morning, every afternoon. Bundles of dried flowers hanging by the doorway, and the sweet smell of yakgwa if he behaved all week. Sometimes even if he didn’t.

He doesn’t realize how quickly he drains his cup, and he hopes you’ll make him another one.

“Hey…you there?”

“Hm? Yes, I’m here…sorry”

“I wasn’t sure about getting them, or about getting anything for you. So I hope it’s okay.”

“You bought something for me?" His eyes grow as he looks at the box, "this was supposed to be your shopping trip.”

Still soft, and you hope with everything you have that he stays like this for a little longer. Tonight, in the morning, and maybe through tomorrow. You think it, scream it in your head. Maybe he’ll pick up on it just enough. Maybe it’s the tea. You should make him more.

“I know, but…”

“Let me see," he moves the tissue paper out of the way and looks, touches the soft fabric first, and then carefully picks it up.

“It’s corny, I’m sorry”

“Corny? No, they're beautiful.” He reaches in and picks up the second silky handkerchief, and runs his thumb over the embroidered purple flowers, every petal, “and these won't die." Seungmin keeps one and hands the other back to you. You don't know, of course, but this is the first gift he's been given in years.

“Oh, they came as a pair…you don’t want both?”

“No, you keep one. It doesn’t look like you bought much for yourself.”

He’s right, you didn’t get as much as you should have, and that explains why you got back early and interrupted his work. You should have made a list.

“We can go again tomorrow. Maybe you just need company.”

“Company? You’re gonna go shopping with me?”

“Yes, we can do that. We can get lunch somewhere nice, and maybe we can go get more flowers...what? Is that okay?”

Whatever confused look you’re giving him, he caught it. This is the Seungmin from last night, just happier, and more euphoric. “Yeah, we should do that. How about we have more tea, and then we get some sleep? It’s been a long day.”

“It has, but I need to bleach my hair”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, I almost forgot. There were a lot of people around earlier, when I…you know, picked him.”

“I can help if you’d like. And make you some more tea.”

/ / /

The orangey-blonde head of hair sticking out from the covers confuses you in your half-sleep. It’s early, and you set an alarm, but you can’t remember why. Last night hasn’t come back to you quite yet. The puppy plush is in the gap between you, and you really don’t remember putting him there last night. But he’s there, sitting up, almost like he just walked up and took a seat. He’s still a mystery, just like his owner.

The bleach job didn’t work as well as he’d hoped last night, because he forgot he just tried to darken it a few days before. It’s still soft and pretty, and even in his sleep, his bangs frame his face perfectly. Lucky for him, he’s handsome enough to pull anything off.

Seungmin squirms, rolls onto his other side, and settles again. Now, looking at his face, you remember why you set that alarm. How could you forget? You have the day planned out with him, and you’re counting on a smile when he finally wakes up. Something put him in a better mood, a mood good enough for a date, and you suspect it was two kills in three days. He moves again, but you don’t want to wake him yet. He looks happy, or at least comfortable. If he’s dreaming, it’s not strong enough to show, so maybe he got a good night of sleep. Again, you think, hope, plead for the same man to be there when he wakes.

His eyelashes flutter a few times, and open slowly. Close again, open. He looks at the dog, blinks, and then he finds you. Your stomach swirls with butterflies as he stares, and finally, after really waking up, a smile pulls on his lips—a sweet, sleepy smile.

“Jal jat-ssuh?”

“Ne,” he laughs. “That sounded good. Did you?”

“I did”

“Is my hair still orange?” He sits himself up and pulls on a piece to check.

Hopefully it doesn’t discourage him from today’s plans. Hopefully he remembers today’s plans. “It is, it looks good on you, though. A very handsome tangerine.”

“Tangerine? Do you like tangerines?”

“I love them”

“We’ll get some today”

He didn’t forget, and he’s still okay. Seungmin’s head falls back to the pillow, eyes close again, but his smile stays on his lips. And then he starts to hum. If this mood lasts long enough, maybe you can finally hear him sing. You let him go for a little while longer, until he starts to quiet, probably dozing off again…

Seungmin is cute when he’s focused, and he’s very focused on the grill between you; poking and flipping the meat, plating it carefully. His mouth is squished to one side, and the dimple on his cheek is especially noticeable.

“You’re good at this”

“Hm? Oh, sorry, I’m so used to eating alone. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“I am, too, it’s okay.” You take the plate from him, and he hands you a few of the things he hoarded on his side of the table. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling?” He takes a very big bite of zucchini, and it takes a few moments for him to get it down. “I feel…pretty good. Better now that we’re eating. I don’t like being hungry.”

“Good. The mall was pretty crowded, so it was nice not being alone. Still, it’s a little overwhelming.”

“We shouldn’t have to do it again for a while. I think we replaced everything you lost, plus extra.”

“Too much extra”

“No, not if it makes you happy”

Happy Seungmin is still here, and now he has a full stomach...even better. You can’t get attached to this feeling, but you’ve become much more attached to him than you thought was possible it such a short amount of time—all of him, good and bad…and the bad still seems to outweigh the good by a lot. It doesn’t seem believable, looking at him right now, but this was him the day you met, you think. Maybe not completely, because he was obviously on the hunt when you showed up, but this Seungmin was there, a little bit. You could feel it—he felt right. He still does.

“Sitting here with you makes me happy”

He stops stirring his broth and looks at you. Was that too much? It was too much, you might as well have just told him you love him. What if you trigger something, and whatever is going on in his head changes completely? You need to get a hold on whatever is going on in your own head. He’s staring, and you can feel it, even with your eyes fixed on your plate.

“Why?” He whispers. You barely hear it, and it’s as if he’s speaking to himself. Asking himself. “I haven’t done anything to make you feel that way.”

“Yes you have”

“Tell me”

The server interrupts with more banchan, more water, more tea. It gives you a whole ten seconds to think, and not sound like an idiot when you answer. Does he really want to know, or is he just putting you on the spot?

“You came back for me, and you took care of me…do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“I tend to forget what I say, apparently”

There’s some attitude in his voice, and you immediately regret saying it. He obviously remembers you asking him the same thing yesterday morning.

“I remember. Depends, though, I said a lot of things.” He moves his eyes around as he thinks, and you’re relieved to see a smirk pop up. “But I assume you’re referring to…killing anyone who touches you.”

He did say a lot of things last night, but yeah…you nod at him.

“You liked that.” No more attitude. He whispers, almost growls under his breath. “Didn’t you?” His eyes are so heavy, and dark. He’s still smiling, but it’s different. It’s so much different. “You did.”

“Maybe”

“Speaking of that..someone in here has been staring at you since we walked in”

“I doubt that”

His eyes move slowly to the left, and stay there. You look in the same direction as discreetly as possible, and you see who he’s talking about—it’s the bartender, and Seungmin is right. He wipes down the bar and smiles at you, but looks away almost immediately after. Maybe the timing was just a coincidence, though.

“He’s just looking. He barely looked.”

“I don’t really like that, either”

“Seungmin”

A shiver runs over you when he says your name…whispers it. “Why don’t you get up and head to the bathroom. Leave the door unlocked.” He cocks his head to the side when you don’t move, or respond. “Please.”

He smiles when you push your chair back, and shows you all of his teeth when you stand. Still happy. If this keeps him that way, he doesn’t have to ask again—as if you'd deny him. Your legs already shake at the thought of him touching you. The bartender's eyes are on you as you walk by, and you feel them linger as you disappear down the short hallway toward the (luckily) private bathroom. You close the door, lean against it, and look around. It’s nice, at least.

Thirty or so seconds pass between you closing the door, and his soft knock. You don’t know why your heart races. It could be that you’ve never done this before, and it doesn’t help that the bartender saw both of you come back here, and he knows exactly what’s going on. If you’re nervous enough, you won’t be able to do this, and he’ll be very disappointed.

The doorknob turns, and he comes in slowly. It’s just Seungmin, there’s no reason to be nervous, and it’s just public sex…very public for you…but your stomach drops when you see someone else…not him, not even close. You only see the face for a split second before he disappears—pulled backward so fast, and with so much force, the door slams shut again. A thud on the other side of the wall echoes through you, through the bathroom, and you have to assume through the entire restaurant. And then, right before you pull the door open, you hear it again. The man—the bartender, is on the floor, flat on his back with one hand covering his bloody face, and there’s a crack in the plaster wall. Seungmin is standing over him, still seeing red, but showing some restraint by not touching him again.

“Wh-what happened?”

He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “Naleul bwa...” He nudges the man with his foot until he removes his hand and looks up. “Creep.”

A small crowd gathers at the end of the narrow hallway, but he pushes through, still holding you close. Nobody says a word or stops you as you grab your bags and head for the door, and as soon as you get outside, you’re both lost in the crowd.

“Stop, stop…Seungmin!”

“Yeah, what is it?” He slows down, but he doesn’t stop. “You okay?”

“What the hell happened?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s walking you as far away as possible, as calmly as possible. The look on his face is familiar, but different…nervous, worried, excited maybe. You can tell his adrenaline is sky high, and you don’t know why, but you assume this is unusual for him—this somewhat random act of violence. Almost everything you’ve witnessed from him has been disjointed and clumsy, but he hasn’t been caught yet, so you know he’s been careful up until this point. You’re messing him up.

Finally, he stops and lets you catch your breath.

“We’ll head back, drop your things off…”

“Seungmin”

“I’ll drive us to Uljin, if you still want to get flowers”

“Uljin?”

“Yeah, let’s go before we miss the train”

The train is crowded, of course—standing room only, and Seungmin’s fingers grip your wrist the entire time. He’s clearly overwhelmed and soothing himself; there’s nothing romantic or possessive about it, he’s just suddenly very nervous about something. Either the crowd, or what just happened. You change the subject for now, not wanting to move his mind around the incident anymore than necessary. “Uljin is far.”

“I know. I can get us there in three hours, and if you’re tired we can wait until morning to drive back.”

You close the space still left between you, until your face grazes his sweatshirt, “why so far for flowers?” The small corner of the silk handkercheif just pokes out from his back pocket. You didn't notice it before, or catch him putting it there before you left this morning.

“They’re the best ones. And they’re always there for me.”

The ride wasn’t as long and awkward as you feared it would be. Both of you were silent most of the way, but Seungmin kept his music low the entire time, not once deviating from whatever playlist he initially put on. It feels like he’s made this drive more than a few times, and he has a set routine. As you moved closer and closer to the end of the drive, everything became greener, and darker. Lush and beautiful in some spots, but desolate and almost forgotten in others. It all seemed to reflect him.

You’re not sure how far out you are from the destination when he makes the second and final stop, but it’s been three hours, almost exactly, so you wonder why he made another stop at all.

He doesn’t go inside the gas station, but you do. For no reason, really. You check yourself in the bathroom mirror, grab some water, and then watch him for a moment before leaving. Maybe he just needed to stretch his legs—he’s walking slowly toward the edge of the pumps, and then across toward where a small section of woods start. It zig-zags upward and into a much larger section that you can’t see the end of. Seungmin is staring through those trees, hands in his coat pockets, and he doesn’t move when you exit and jingle the bell above the door.

“Here, you haven’t had anything since we left.” He looks at the bottled water in your hands, sighs, and takes it.

“About twenty minutes…we should be there”

“Where exactly is there?” Seungmin downs half of his water before stopping and taking a breath. It’s cold out, but sweat is beading on his forehead and around his temples. You reach up and touch his cheek with the back of your hand, and he turns his head away. “Sorry. You’re very warm. Do you feel okay?”

He nods and takes another long drink, “there is the house I grew up in.”

“Oh.” They’re the best ones, and they’re always there for me makes much more sense now. It’s sentimental. The flowers here are special…special enough for a six-hour roundtrip drive.

The remainder of the trip takes you further into the woods. The road narrows, and the pine trees get closer and closer until, every mile or so, there’s a break in the woods, a clearing, and you can see the sky as it slowly darkens. You know when you arrive, because there’s one lonely hanok in the distance. Seungmin sighs again. He never turned the music back on, so you can hear every sound, and every breath. The snap of twigs under the tires, the chirp of bugs, and the chatter of a few magpies fills most of the silence.

“You grew up here?”

He doesn’t answer until you turn and look at him.

“Yeah, until I was nine. And then…” he can stop there. He doesn’t have to tell you every single thing. You’re just making conversation, not setting him down for therapy. “I got passed around to different family members.”

“Were they good to you?”

Somebody certainly wasn’t, and Seungmin knows you know that. He can feel you looking through him, gathering up his thoughts, and his feelings, and figuring things out on your own. “Yes, my grandparents did the best they could, and my aunts…they did, too.”

His answers just make more questions, considering his life now, but you’ll save them for another time.

The car comes to a slow stop. The house is dark and overgrown, but still somewhat looked after, you assume because of him. To your left is a large garden shed, not as well kept. Once, it was probably nice, but time was not kind to it. A little further down is a large greenhouse, also starting to show its age, but it’s iron and glass, and it’s standing strong without much help.

“Good”

“I wasn’t…uh,” he stops himself this time, and reconsiders. Instead of finishing his thought, he opens the door and steps out.

You do the same, and as soon as you stand and close the door, something hits you. It hits your chest, and works its way down to your stomach until you can’t stay on your feet. You kneel, trying not to fall onto the cold, damp ground, but your hands spread out in front of you as you lean forward and empty the contents of your stomach onto the grass.

“Fuck…what happened? Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah I think so. Maybe.”

“Do you get car sick?”

His hand on your shoulders takes you back two nights, and the memory makes you feel a little bit better. Opening your eyes and staring into the distance makes it worse again. “No.”

“You’re warm, too”

“Maybe we should do this tomorrow, if we’re staying the night." After the long drive, Seungmin might want to do it now, so why are even asking? But you also know he doesn't feel well. The fever heat between the two of you could bloom more flowers. "We should."

“We can," he says, secretly a little grateful, “I’ll find a room somewhere”

He pulls you to your feet, and it feels awful, but once you’re up and leaning against him, the dizziness is gone. “We’re not staying here?”

“No, we wouldn’t be very comfortable in there”

/ / /

The sick feeling passes eventually, and the room Seungmin finds at the last minute is not far. It’s small, and it’s comfortable. He’s working on the instant tteokbokki a few feet away, very focused, just like he was at the restaurant.

“It smells good”

“Feeling better? We have frozen bungeoppang, too. The hosts are very generous, we got lucky.”

“Lucky, even with one tiny bed?”

“Yeah, even with one tiny bed,” he laughs, and looks at the twin-size bed tucked away in the corner. He’s reminded of the one in your apartment that he never got to try, and he’s surprised his mind can even go there right now. The memory of his last trip home is mostly a blur, even though it wasn’t more than a day or two before you showed up. “Let’s eat, and get into bed.”

Still happy. So why are you suddenly feeling so empty? “I don’t wanna go to sleep yet.” You pick at and stir your food, and watch him devour his. “Hey…”

“Yes?”

“What happened earlier, at the restaurant?”

He was hoping you forgot about that. Seungmin isn’t typically violent unless he plans on seeing it to the end, so today was unusual. He keeps himself out of sight, and out of people’s memories, because he can’t afford to be noticed that much. He doesn’t regret what he did, though, and he has no problem admitting to himself that it felt good. “Before I got up, he started following you. He watched you walk by, and maybe you looked at him and he thought it was an invitation…or he’s just a piece of shit taking advantage of the opportunity.”

“I don’t think I looked at him”

“I caught up, just in time”

“And smashed his face into the wall”

“I didn’t know what I was going to do, but yeah, it seemed like the best choice at the time”

“It was effective”

“Still ruined our moment.” Seungmin’s eyes are tired, but he’s obviously nudging you into bed for more than just sleep. He wants to make up for whatever lust was building inside of him earlier, and you haven’t told him no a single time yet. Why would he expect you to tell him no tonight? But you’re feeling off—much more than just tired. It may have been the adrenaline rush earlier, combined with the very long car ride. It could just be the new setting, because the new setting reminds you a little bit of home, right down to the claustrophobic woods and this 300 square feet of living space.

“Maybe we should go to sleep.” You say, staring hard at your food as you eat. “It’s been a long day.”

/ / /

The twin bed is perfect, at least for you. Seungmin backed himself against the wall and kept his hands to himself after you crawled in beside him, and luckily, there was nothing but sleep for both of you almost immediately. A sharp pinging sound wakes you, and you open your eyes to him at the tiny kitchen counter. The sound you hear is sleet falling against the window, and the realization makes you shiver under the covers…but the smell of brewing coffee brings you right back.

The icy rainfall picks up as you force yourself into a sitting position, but staying up is still hard, regardless of his soft good morning, and his eyes peeking over his mug.

“Morning.” The headache has been there for a while, but you’re conscious now, and really feeling it. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost eleven, we slept a lot”

You count to three and force your feet onto the cold floor, “doesn’t sound like good driving weather out there,” and make it to the other stool, where now you see an empty mug and a plate of warm bungeoppang. Without a word, you reach a hand up and set it on his forehead. “How did you sleep?”

Seungmin doesn’t shake it away, but he gives you a confused look, and he shrugs. “I slept.”

“Did you have any dreams? Nightmares?”

“The usual. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Because you had one, too. “You had a fever yesterday. It’s gone.”

“I think you took it from me, you look miserable”

“Do I?” Miserable is a strong word, but the headache, and the slightly off feeling is definitely close. Maybe you’re allergic to something up here. You make a mental note to take something for that, and for the headache, just in case.

“As soon as the rain stops, we’ll get what we came for, and then head back. Eat something.”

/ / /

The drive through the narrow forest road is even crunchier this time. Tiny icicles hang off tree branches, and no bugs chirp this time…no birds sing. It’s somehow darker this afternoon than it was yesterday at dusk, and the low mist hanging over the property makes you wish you would have just gotten this over with yesterday. Something strange is definitely living in these woods It’s beautiful, though, in its own lonely way. It’s still very alive here and it breathes easily through the cracks in the wood.

Seungmin is quiet, and you expect that. Whatever you’re feeling right now, he must be feeling it threefold. This is his home—or it was, at least, at a very important time in his life. The memory of why he had to leave is still lingering here.

Greenhouse is all he says as he steps out. You follow, and this time, you feel okay when your feet hit the ground. The headache is still there, but not so bad that you can’t fight through it, so you catch up with him and try not to lose your footing in the soft, muddy ground.

“Take your time, it’s uneven down here”

You watch each step as you take it, and weave around the stones and spots where the grass is drowning from the melted snow and ice. Some spots are still slick, so you wonder how anything could possibly be hanging on mid-December…especially what he came for. Even inside the greenhouse. You catch a shine of light from the corner of your eye and stop, even as he bolts ahead of you. Something in the ruins of the shed catches what little bit of sunlight makes it through the clouds.

"Come on..."

The boots you wore could have been better; could have been worse. Seungmin’s Redwings are splattered and caked with mud, old and new, because he knew what he was getting into up here. These are specifically the boots he wears here, you think. No hunting, no murder, no body disposal. Every job has its own equipment.

It’s even prettier up close, and inside, through the condensation rising up every perfect panel of glass, you see green and yellow. Purple, and blue. He opens the door to the anteroom, and the sweet smell of flowers fills you up. When he opens the main door, the warmth still trapped inside almost knocks you on your back.

“Does someone tend to this all year, or…”

“No.” He heads to a workspace in the corner and picks up a pair of gardening shears, a little rusty, but probably still very sharp. “Nobody comes here but me.”

“I like it, it’s nice”

“Yeah?”

You catch up to him and nod, “mhm, I don’t like it outside, but this is better.”

Seungmin leads you to the spot filled with purple flowers. Some of them fill big decorative pots, and some are elevated on homemade wooden shelves, but the largest ones are in the ground. It’s a little bit chaotic, but something about it feels organized at the same time. It’s everywhere, but it’s everywhere exactly where somebody wanted it.

“I see why you came all this way. It’s yours.”

He doesn’t answer. Seungmin lowers himself to the ground and kneels, and you watch as he does nothing for a very long time. The sounds of the greenhouse take over; the creak of the panels as the wind outside hits, and the cries of the bugs. Whatever insects managed to make a home for themselves here are very happy. And it isn't until now that you notice the sound of a single windchime. You find a spot to sit and wait, but you keep your eyes on him. Eventually, after more of his silence passes, it feels as if you’re intruding on something very personal, so you stand, quietly turn away, and focus your attention on a different spot; on different flowers.

What he’s doing over there is more cathartic and necessary than you can imagine.

Seungmin is always careful about how much he cuts and where he cuts from. Some blossoms seem brighter than others, and those are the ones he knows he can take. But before he does anything…

“how have you been?”

It’s exceptionally quiet, and his voice, so soft and light, carries in the small space. At first, you assume he’s speaking to you, because he’s speaking English. But he’s not. You can’t block out his words, so you walk as far from him as you can in an attempt to give him some privacy, but…he knows you’re here. He invited you inside knowing what he was going to do.

“Okay, I guess…sometimes it’s tough to tell from the inside”

Silence. He waits a few moments before speaking again…

“I am, I promise”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　　

“I know, I’m not alone this time, isn’t that strange? It feels so strange”

⋆ . 　　˚　　　　*　　　

“Yes, it’s a good thing, I know”

　✦　˚ 　˖✶

“I’m trying really hard, I promise”

The silence is much longer this time. You think he might be finished, but he speaks one more time…

“Saranghaeyo…I love you, too”

You finally turn and look at him through a cluster of forget-me-nots, and he’s bowing so low you can hardly see him. The sound of the shears opening and closing finally comes, and you see him very carefully trimming what he needs. Two bundles. He takes both to the workspace, ties them with string, and wraps them gently in dark brown paper. The amount of care he takes is impressive, and he doesn’t rush through it. You take the opportunity to move closer to the blooms of heliotrope, but not too close. Just enough to admire them. They look like they just saw a warm, summer day, not the cold, icy morning you woke to. You almost forget it’s December as you stare at them.

“I’m ready, if you are.” His voice, still gentle, makes you jump.

“Yes, I’m ready”

“Oh, hold on.” Seungmin walks to the corner where you hid, looks around for something, and after a few minutes of him moving things around, digging, pulling, and digging again, he returns with dirt-covered hands and a small pot filled with the little blue flowers. “We’ll take these, too.”

He hands it over, and you hold it close as you start toward the cold again. The rain begins to fall as you carefully make your way back to the car, but it’s just a fine mist this time, no more ice. The bundles of heliotrope are placed in the backseat, but you hold tight to your flowers. Seungmin never implied they were yours, but you know they are. The forget-me-nots are for you.

The closer you get to Seoul, the more withdrawn you feel him becoming. There was some conversation this time, very minimal, and very light, but you said nothing of Uljin, or the greenhouse, or the conversation he had with the flowers. It slowly dwindled until it became a painful silence; no music, not even a contemplative sigh from him. You held your flowers and stared out of your window until the countryside slowly turned to small town, to city, to busy highways, and finally…home. Home?

“I’ll be gone for a few hours”

He tended to his flowers first. One bundle in the vase, the other tied and hung on the side of the window nearest the kitchen.

“Gone? You’re leaving?”

“Haven’t we seen enough of each other over the last two days?”

“Uhm…” Yeah, you guess so. “Sure.”

“I have to get rid of that body, and the carpet. It might take a while.”

The body. You completely forgot about two nights ago. How could you forget about watching him kill someone right in front of you? Luckily, Seungmin didn’t. He may have kept it at the front of his mind this entire time.

A quick change of clothes, and he’s gone without another word or glance in your direction.

The last two days and the night before was more than you expected from him—but enough? How could it possibly be enough? Whoever you were with today in the greenhouse, and in bed with yesterday morning; there’s so much of him you haven’t seen yet. You’ve barely met him. This was nowhere near enough.

So you shower and sort your things from your two shopping trips in an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But where to put them? Not in his drawer, because you need permission for that, and not in his neat, organized (full) closet. Eventually, you decide on folding and setting most of it on the chest near his bookshelves. The vase of flowers sit brand new and bright and fragrant exactly where the previous ones did, and now you have a chance to really look at them; you touch the delicate little petals and lean forward to take in more of the scent, and you wonder what exactly all of this means to him, because it’s something very special. Some of it you think you can figure out on your own, but you know there’s much more.

The flowers send your thoughts back to the music box. Your fingers itch to touch it again—to pick it up and turn the key, so you do. Seungmin isn’t here, and he might not be back for hours, and maybe he wouldn’t mind you looking at everything more closely. He didn’t seem to mind the first time. You pick it up and examine it in the low light. On top, there's a design burned and stained into the wood: a cloud-covered full moon shining down on a leaping rabbit. You turn the key three times, and hold it as it plays a sweet, sad melody that you don’t recognize. Inside you see the necklace, the one that looks almost exactly like yours, a silver bracelet, and a ring that could only be a wedding band. There’s a small piece of worn paper tucked into the corner, folded into the shape of a butterfly, and you leave that alone. You can see little bits of Hangul written on it, so clearly, it’s some sort of note. Even if you could read it…well, you could always use your phone and translate it—no, it’s none of your business.

The drawer could be your business, though. You’ve already seen it, and you can’t imagine it’s much different now than it was that night, but just thinking about it gets your heart racing.

You click his lamp on first, and look at everything sitting on the table. These are things you haven’t done yet, and there are so many little details about him still to learn. His glasses sit in their open case; a pair of thick black-rimmed ones, not the ones you’ve seen him in. His other ones, the ones that suited him so well, were round metal frames, and they’re not here. His silver Chanel necklace is here, and two prescription bottles that you never noticed before. KIM SEUNGMIN is written on the side of both—lorazepam (the little white pill he offered during your panic attack) and haloperidol. The haloperidol doesn’t look like it’s been touched, but the other is nearly empty. So, he has been diagnosed with something, and medicated for it, he just hasn’t followed through with his treatment. Maybe he’s tried, and it didn’t work—or it didn’t work the way he wanted it to. Finally, the drawer. It’s a little messier than you remember, but not bad. He probably hasn’t touched it since he killed two nights ago because the knife isn’t back in its spot. The sheath is there, and the cuffs, the gag. You carefully pick up one of the syringes and examine it, turn it so you can see the liquid inside move around like a tiny lava lamp. Still three of them. Further back, you feel something else. Something small. It’s an earring, just a tiny gold cuff, and it looks familiar. You reach and touch the top of your left ear, and you realize it’s yours. It must have fallen off while you slept, and he found it, and threw it in his drawer…but why didn’t he just return it?

Just as you put it back and turn off the lamp, you hear the click of the lock. You’d like to stay up and greet him, but if he’s still in the mood he was when he left, it might not be worth it. Instead, you climb under the covers and turn off the lamp on your side. He doesn’t come in right away. You can hear him go straight to the shower, and you stay awake and listen the whole twenty minutes he spends in there. Next, you hear him in the kitchen, and the thought makes your stomach growl. You haven’t eaten since midway through the ride home earlier, and that’s hardly worth mentioning. Maybe you should get up and see him, eat with him, if that’s what he’s doing. But you can’t move. You look at your phone: 9 pm. It’s not late at all, but the dark and the cold makes it feel so much later.

As soon as you smell coffee brewing, you decide to get up and check on him.

Seungmin is sitting in the kitchen, elbows on the counter, head down, face completely hidden in his hands. You can’t actually go out there and face him—no, you’re going to be a coward, because the possibility of his anger, no matter how small, is already making you tear up. But his little movements, the shake of his shoulders, make you think that’s what he’s already doing. You push the door up and slink back to bed and under the covers, and this time you somehow fall asleep.

/ / /

The cold air and smell of cigarette smoke wake you, hardly half an hour later, and as soon as you open your eyes, Seungmin slides the balcony door closed. You briefly shut them again when he walks up your side of the bed, and heads to his bookshelf. He looks at the flowers but does nothing else, and because he turned his lamp back on, you can see his face, and you can tell he was crying. He lifts his arm and wipes his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, so you have to assume he just managed to stop while he smoked.

He stretches his neck, pulls his sweatshirt off, and heads for his side of the bed. You feel the blankets shift, and the movement as he sits and slides himself underneath. Then you hear the rattle of a pill bottle…the full one, but you don’t hear him remove the lid. He shakes it again, as if he’s looking at it and thinking, but places it back on the table, unopened. You’re relieved when he finally settles onto his pillow. You can relax again, maybe even turn and face him in your pretend sleep, but you don’t get a chance; Seungmin moves closer, and closer. You try not to jump when his hand slides hesitantly up your arm, over your shoulder, and then back down. He moves once more, until his chest can press against your back.

You’re positive he can feel your racing heart, your erratic breathing. His steady breath is traveling down your neck, under the collar of his tshirt you’re still wearing. Should you say something, let him know you’re awake and here with him? It’s possible the thought of you sleeping while he does this makes it easier, and you don’t want to ruin that, so you wait. His hand is on you again, but the touch is still hesitant and stuttery. Seungmin is thinking about his next move. He’s unsure.

After a few more moments, it slides between your arm and your waist, wraps around your stomach, and gently squeezes. He’s pulling you tight against him, finally, all of him. His forehead rests against the nape of your neck; his hips, his thighs, all curve and surround you. Skin on skin, warm under the blankets. You wait until you feel him relax, then set your hand over his…

“Oh, did I wake you?”

“No, you didn’t.” You feel him pull his hand back, but you hold tight and lace your fingers with his. “You didn’t.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Not long, I heard you coming in from the balcony.” Seungmin isn’t as relaxed now. You can feel his body tense, and his breathing change. “I felt you climb into bed.”

He pulls away again, and this time, he escapes your grasp. Seungmin pushes himself back, and when you turn to look, he’s already facing away, readjusting himself back into his spot.

“Seungmin?” Does he think you saw him crying? He must, and he’s right. Should you tell him he’s allowed to do that? “Can I come over there?” You whisper. “Please.”

“If you want to”

“I do,” you crawl to him and get back under the blankets, but instead of wrapping an arm around his waist, you grab his hip and pull until he’s flat on his back. “If…you want me to,” you really hope your smile will spread to him, but he just looks exhausted. His eyes are red and swollen, and his face is pale.

“Say it again,” he mumbles.

“Say what?"

Seungmin lets you push the hair away from his forehead and out of his eyes. “My name."

“Your name?”

He nods and closes his eyes, so your gaze drops to his lips—you haven’t kissed them in a long time, and now seems like the perfect opportunity. “Seungmin.”

“Mm, I like the way it sounds when you say it”

“Have I been saying it okay? Is my accent messing it up?”

“No…it’s perfect”

You take a chance while his eyes are still closed, first at the corner of mouth, and then a little closer. He doesn’t move, so you press your lips firmly against his. He returns it, and his breath deepens. You think he might stop at any moment, so you enjoy it—the way he tastes, the coffee and the leftover minty sweetness of his cigarette. He stays, though. He touches you. Seungmin’s hand moves to your waist and pulls you closer, and you think, maybe the night will be okay now…but it doesn’t last very long. It’s gone, and he turns his head until you stop kissing. Your lips land on his neck, and they stay there.

“Seungmin” you say again, whispering it slowly and carefully.

“I haven't been feeling very good”

“You haven't? What is it?”

He sniffles, and moves his legs against yours under the blankets. Seungmin is warm, but not fever-warm, and something tells you he doesn’t mean physically. Maybe he’ll open up this door, though. Telling you he isn’t feeling well is already a lock unlocked.

But he doesn’t say another word. What he does do is let you touch—he relaxes again as your palm slides over his chest, down his stomach. You press your lips to his collarbone and make a path across his shoulder. “Tell me what’s hurting.”

“Everything”

“Everything?”

“Almost everything”

"Your body?"

He slowly shakes his head.

"Something up here?"

Seungmin's eyes dart toward you as your fingers run through his hair. He thinks for a long moment before answering. "A little."

"Alright, one more...here?"

His hand closes over yours on his chest, but he doesn't give you a yes or no answer. If it's a yes, which you suspect it is, he's probably not going to give you anything else. You leave it at that.

“Tell me what feels okay, maybe it’ll help a little,” you follow the path you made, returning to his collarbone, and working your way up his neck. This time he’s more receptive to it, and his cheek turns to press against yours. “What feels good?”

Seungmin sets his hand on the small of your back and brings you closer. “Good?”

“Mhm…and how can I make it even better? Let me make you feel good.”

“Bite”

“Bite?”

“Right there, please”

You don’t bite yet, but you kiss him again, lick, and graze your teeth across his skin. “Right here?”

The sound he makes is small, and desperate, like he’s afraid you might not do it. “Please.”

Very cautiously, you suck the skin again, and bite until he makes another sound. It feels like a lot of pressure, but it’s not enough for him. You try again.

“Yeah…like that,” he moans, and squirms beneath you, “don’t be shy.”

The spot you sunk your teeth into starts to turn red, and the marks are there…but you didn’t break the skin. You kiss it, and then kiss a new spot just below it and nibble. When he squirms again, you bite down hard, and this time he sounds satisfied. He grabs your hand and guides it under his waistband, and you bite again when your fingers move over his head, down the length of his cock. You stroke him, and watch him watch you work.

“Don’t stop,” he brings you down to his chest, and when your tongue finds his nipple, “harder please”…you bite, and his hips push into your touch. “Fuck.”

You don’t hold back this time, and you feel the skin break between your teeth. The coppery taste of blood hits your tongue when you lick the spot, and Seungmin makes a sound like he’s never made for you before, and he moans your name…

“Seungmin”

“Mmm…yeah?” He sighs and grips your arm as you stroke, “yeah?” and he smiles as his head hits the pillow. Blood starts to bead from the mark on his chest, and it slowly drips down toward his stomach.

You watch it, then look at him, and the urge to clean it off is too strong to ignore. This is new for you. Is it new for him? Before you get the chance to try, he sits up. “Oh, you gonna bite me?”

Seungmin smiles, shakes his head, “no,” and gets himself out of his shorts, “no, sit back…” he touches you, and slides his hands up your outer thighs, but instead of undressing, they come back down, caressing, squeezing, as if he’s taking a moment to admire you. It gives you a knot in your stomach, the thought of it, and the look on his face. The next time they move up, he grabs your underwear and pulls.

The knot grows; the nervous feeling in your stomach won’t go away, and you don’t know why, because you’ve been here already. You’ve been with him, no panic attack. Again, he touches—very softly runs his fingertips over the top of your thigh and to your knee.

“Give me your arms, hold onto me.” He throws more pillows behind you, and rearranges them while he holds you against him. It feels so sweet and so personal, how he’s tending to the spot where he wants you. “Comfortable?”

“Oh…yeah,” you grip the back of his neck, and the other hand digs into his side. “This is nice.”

“Mm, your nails are sharp”

“Are they? Sorry,” you adjust your hold on him, but he shakes his head as you do.

“No…do your worst. Or your best, I guess.”

The thin line of blood running down his chest is beginning to dry, and the marks you made all over him are darkening. He wants more, though, and you can do that. You gently rake your fingers up his back…just enough to tickle, and then back down with a little more pressure. At the same time, his fingers tease you, ghosting up and down so perfectly and carefully.

You spread your legs in anticipation of more. “Hey,” you whisper. His eyes are wide open, but focused elsewhere, just away from you. He’s thinking hard, or spacing out…you can’t tell. “Look at me.”

A little smile tugs at his lips when he looks up, “hm?” And his eyes are big and shining inches from yours, ready to swallow you up. He pushes his hair away from his forehead and comes in for a kiss, and you’re not prepared. At all. It’s just like the elevator kiss—so deep and eager like he can’t get close enough. You fall back on your spot and pull him with you, and he keeps going, slips his tongue in, and moans softly into your mouth. You scratch across his back, not enough to mark, and he does it again.

Each time, you give him more. A little more pressure, a little slower.

He slides in, and with each push, hits deeper and stretches more. His lips keep kissing, though, like he’s trying to distract from the pain he might be causing as he pushes every inch into you. But with every twinge of pain, you dig deeper, pull so slowly, and feel your nails get close to breaking skin.

When you open your eyes to check, his upper back is so much more red and angry than you anticipated.

“Don’t stop,” he whines as he finally pulls away from the kiss.

“It looks so sore…Seungmin, I dunno if I can…” from here you see old scratches mixed in with the new ones, much older, scarred over—they look like more than scratches. How did you never notice them before? You’ve never seen him like this, in this light.

“You can,” he pants, “please.”

The skin is hot when you touch it, and you wince just thinking about how it must feel, but Seungmin doesn’t make a sound when you graze over it. He does, however, let you know that he likes it when you push your nails in again. One more swipe and you see blood.

You stop, and he doesn’t ask you to do it again—instead, he pushes in fully and stays there, kisses and sucks at your neck, nibbles a little, but nothing like what you did to him.

“Good,” he sighs and pushes your thighs upward, and he starts to move in and out, slow at first, but he can’t help himself. His breath catches as he speeds up, and loses himself in the moment, but still, he stays in your neck, moaning against your skin, and breathing down your back…into your ear where he whispers a fuck…fuck, as if he could come any second.

“Slow,” you knead your fingers into his hip, hold him off a little bit, “slow down, relax.”

Seungmin listens and does his best, but it feels too good.

“We have all night...all night”

But this is what he needs. He wants it now. This will make him feel better. All of this. The sting of his back, the gentle throb from each little bite mark, you squeezing so tight around him.

You place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere…Seungmin?” Then move it to the nape of his neck, being careful not to touch the scratches.

This time, he slows much more, almost stops. You worry for a moment and wonder if the words didn’t fall quite right on his ears, but you meant want you said—you’re not leaving.

“I do want you…all night,” Seungmin smiles, and he lets out a laugh tinged with nerves, as if he’s embarrassed about admitting exactly what he wants, or what he needs.

“Good. Did this…” you touch the spot on his chest, and smear the almost dried blood. Then you touch another. “Did this help?”

“A little”

“Sit up,” you hook your arm around his neck as he rises, and now you can slide onto his lap. “Hold onto me.”

Seungmin holds you where you are, hands on your hips, eyes on the space between you. You lift yourself, and you don’t have to tell him what to do—you’re more than ready for him again, and his cock slides in smoothly as you come down.

“Oh, that’s good.” Seungmin is smiling again, and his satisfied laugh is much less anxious. He grabs the back of your shirt and pulls so he can see everything as you move up and down on him…”neomu johda” he mumbles under his breath, “nice and slow,” lifts your shirt over your head, and both arms wrap around you.

“Much better, yeah?”

His presses his cheek against your chest, and you can feel his nod.

“I don’t mind working for it”

Seungmin laughs again, and turns his face to kiss wherever he can get to; your shoulders, your throat, down your chest to the soft skin of your breast. He’s surprisingly gentle when he gets there, and even more so when he runs his tongue around your nipple. He stares up at you, eyes wide and shining, as if he’s waiting for something…your reaction, your approval. It’s not a side of him you’ve seen—you didn’t think he even had a side like this.

You run the pad of your thumb just under his eye, where a faint scar shines in the light, and he smiles again. His face disappears against you, so all you see is the top of his peachy-colored head. Seungmin squeezes you close before letting go, and he falls back to rest on his palms.

“Cute”

His eyes open even wider, “what?” And he very slowly lowers himself as you push him flat on his back. “Me?”

“Maybe”

“Maybe?”

“You know what would be really cute?” You ask.

“What’s that?”

“You…coming for me”

Seungmin smirks when you laugh, and slowly rolls his hips, “so I can come now?” Your laugh turns to a moan. He does it again, and takes your hands in his. “How’s that feel?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“Don’t stop”

He doesn’t. Seungmin rolls his hips, sliding in and out so smoothly, but the stretch, the pain—this pain feels so good, just like his pain, your bites and your scratches. And the pressure as you finally get all of him in, when your body finally slams into his hips, Seungmin moves faster and faster, pulling you down close enough to kiss as he fucks you. He bites softly at your lip, slides his tongue against yours. The kiss throws you over the edge, and your orgasm hits so fast, and so hard, you scream right down his throat. His cum runs warm out of you as he slows, and stops, but you keep kissing, and Seungmin returns it.

“Okay,” you don’t want to, but you pull away to breathe, and Seungmin pulls you back for one more, “okay.” You lay down on him and try to catch your breath, listen as he catches his, and close your eyes to the feel of his chest rising and falling. One hand slides across your shoulders, and the other sets at his side, fingers fidgeting and picking at the blanket, and everything feels good, and normal.

The rumble in his chest as he groans and sighs brings you back a little, but you’re not ready to be back quite yet. It’s too nice, laying here on his chest, listening to the wild beat of his heart. But you give in, and look up at him—Seungmin is just as relaxed, maybe more. You slowly lift yourself off of him, and pull at the blankets, but you’re the wrong way around, and covering up isn’t easy.

“Seungmin?”

His eyes open slowly, and then immediately shut again.

“Turn over, so I can look at your back.” He listens, but this time, he winces in pain when the skin moves and stretches. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Before you get up, you have to give your legs a stretch, and before you can walk, you stand for a moment and adjust. As soon as your shirt is back over your head, you carefully head to the bathroom, trying not to trip in the dark. The hand towels are in the very last drawer you check, but the water comes out ice cold, just like you need it.

You lost yourself with him. Pushing him on his back was stupid, and a few of the scratches broke open even more.

“How does it feel?” You ask, and very slowly drape the cold towel across his shoulders. He winches again, but it’s quickly followed by a sigh of relief. “It hurts now that the moment is over, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s not as bad as it looks. I promise.”

Even if you do believe him, you can still see the pink of his blood coming through the opposite side of the thin towel. It spreads out and connects and starts to look like angel wings…butterfly wings. You think of the old note in his music box.

“Are there lots of butterflies in the greenhouse in spring?”

“Hm?” Seungmin lifts his head and tries to look at you, but you’re too far back. “Butterflies?”

“Yeah,” maybe you shouldn’t be mentioning the greenhouse right now, or bringing the trip back to his mind, but…he was happy for it. “The heliotrope and the asters, butterflies love them.”

“Yeah, you’re right…that’s why—“ he stops himself and lays his head back down on the bed, “that’s why they’re in there. Why do you ask?”

“Uhm, no reason…it just came to mind”

“We’ll see in a few months, I guess”

In a few months. In the future. That’s a nice thought. Will you both still be here? You look down at him and wonder as you gently lift the towel to inspect. “Do you have any antibiotic ointment?”

“You don’t have to do all that”

“Bathroom?”

Seungmin nods.

/ / /

He stares at you from his spot on the bed, right side up this time. Seungmin is on his stomach still, with one pillow fluffed up under his head and chest. You can’t tell for sure, but he might be a little annoyed at you for covering him in cream and making him stay still.

“Are you going to sleep?” He asks in a small voice. “Are you tired?”

“No, I’m not anymore…but you look tired”

“I’m always tired,” he turns away and pushes his face into the pillow, “or I always look tired.”

“No, you don’t. Just very pensive, and sad, and handsome.”

“Handsome? You said I was cute.” His face is still mostly hidden, but you can see one eye peeking at you.

“Yeah, you’re cute when you think really hard, or when you’re worried”

“So, all the time?”

“All the time”

The quiet that falls over the room is nice—it’s not awkward, or filled with questions. There’s no tension. Seungmin just lies there, eyes closed, comfortable and content, and he doesn’t move when you lay down next to him. You could fall asleep if you allowed yourself, but you could also lay here and look at him for a little while longer. All night. You pull the blankets higher, grab a second pillow, and something familiar catches your eye. The little yellow puppy rolls and falls between the bed frame and the wall, but you catch him just before he disappears. “Do you walk around on your own?” His big black eyes stare silently, and they remind you of someone.

“Do I look sad all the time?”

There they are…they open so wide, and he seems to focus on a spot somewhere behind you—somewhere in the dark where the light doesn’t reach.

“No, you don’t look sad right now”

Seungmin reaches out and takes his friend by the paw, squeezes it. Now he looks sad, as if something suddenly started weighing on his mind. You glance to the table where his pills sit, and wonder, stupidly, if you should ask about them—ask very gently if he’s given them a chance. Not tonight, though. “Does he have a name?”

“Hm? Oh…him, yeah he does. His name is Daengmo.” Seungmin smiles as he says it, but it matches the rest of him; sad. “Daengmo,” he whispers.

“Does it mean anything?”

“Yes, daengdaengie is for puppy, mo is…uhm,” he stops and thinks. Or hesitates. “Mo, for a nickname I had when I was little.”

“Mo? Your nickname was Mo?”

“Mo, or Seungmo. My mom called me that when I didn’t listen…when I misbehaved.”

“Maybe I should be calling you Mo”

The sad look fades a little, “because I’m bad?” Seungmin lifts himself up on his elbows and turns on his side.

“You are, objectively, sometimes. But…” Seungmin does bad things, and you’ve witnessed some of it. He’s lied, and he’s manipulated. He might still be lying, for all you know. But he’s also told you truths. You’re choosing to trust him right now, just like you’ve been since he brought you home, because he has shown you a surprising amount of kindness even though it was clearly difficult for him. “No, I don’t think you’re bad," ...because you think you might be in love with him.

“I’m glad you think that. I am, though. I’m a nightmare."

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thewritetofreespeech · 11 months ago

Text

BG3 - Taking care of sick Reader

prompt: I'm sick. so I wrote this up to help me feel better.

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‘Your head throbs in tandem with your own heartbeat. Pain coursing through your body with every stifled breath you take, as your tight chest struggles to fill with air. It had been a long time since you were sick. You nearly forgot how uncomfortable it was. Without the tadpoles protective qualities shield you anymore, this new wave hit you like a stone wall. You almost wished to have it squirming mass back in your brain just to be over this. Luckily, you were not alone at least.’

Astarion

“There there darling, allow me.” He handed you a small cup of water. Letting you sip from it for a bit before he put it back, and you fall back against the bed. “You still look awful.”

You glare at him; or at much as you could with this pain behind your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean…you must still be feeling bad and that is unfortunately for you.”

He sat on the edge of your bed, just looking at you. You can see a bit of concern on his handsome face. You wonder if he’s worried about you or what to do. “I’ve never had to take care of anyone who was sick before. I don’t know what to do.” So, it was the former. “Vampires can’t get sick. So I’ve spent the last few centuries in perfect health, minus a few injuries here & there.” He told you. “Should I…get you a new blanket? Prop your head up? Make soup? I’ve never actually made soup before either, but I’m sure I could be up to the challenge.”

You reach out and take his hand in yours. The cool feel of his skin a welcome reprieve against your warm, clammy one. - Just stay with me.

Astarion smiled. “I can do that.” He curled around to lay in the bed beside you. With no fear of sickness, he had no reason to stay away from you until this past. Your body letting out a sigh as his coolness enveloped you. Feeling some of your heat sap out, even over the covers. “You know, maybe I have a knack for this healing thing.” You let him think that, and curl into Astarion’s body to rest and try to regain your strength back. Sleep is easier this time. Hopefully you’ll be better soon enough.

Ascended!Astarion

Coughing and sputtering, you try to sit up as to not choke on your own spittle. An undignified end for a hero. To vanquish so many enemies and an Elder Brain, only to die by asphyxiating on their own sick.

“Still not feeling well, my treasure?” You look up to see Astarion standing in the doorway. His face neutral as ever, but with just the slightest hint of disdain only you can pick up on at the corner of his mouth. Maybe it’s the smell. Or perhaps because now you are so weak. “I bet you wish you had taken me up on my offer now, hm? This wouldn’t be happening to you if you had just listened to me.”

You watch him as he sauntered over to the side of your bed. Annoyed by his comments. You knew deep down Astarion was still hurt that you turned him down on becoming his spawn. He said such cruel things to you in the moment. Even with all that power, still the boy who lashed out at other. But even with everything he said, he’d never left you. Or more to the point you hadn’t left him, as this was his palace, but he hadn’t pushed you out. Comments and jabs here & there said out of latent anger, but always some excuse quickly on why you couldn’t leave just yet.

“Nothing can be done about it now though. I wouldn’t dream of biting you in this state. Agh…” You felt the shutter was uncalled for. You felt bad enough psychically already. Did you really need to be degraded too? “In any case, I’ve had the servants go and fetch you somethings to aid in your recovery. I wouldn’t know the first thing about mortal illnesses after all but they seem to know the trick.”

– Say nothing to him

Bending down at the waist, Astarion pressed his lips to your forehead. The cool touch soothing to your feverous brow. “Ugh. Salty. I’ll be much happier when you’re back to normal, pet. Anyway, must dash. If you need or want anything, please let the servants know. I’ve instructed them to tend to your every need, and expect no slip ups. I look forward to having a new conversation when you’re…better, my treasure.”

You knew, even as he left, what the conversation was going to be about. Another offer to turn you again. You had only turned him down before because you thought you’d have more time to decide. It was literally a life-changing decision. But, laying here, sick and weak as a kitten, you were beginning to wonder if the change might not be a welcome one, as you fall back asleep.

Gale

“Alright love. Here we are.”

You open your eyes and sit up. A little as a tray was sat across your lap. Bread, fruit slices, a bowl of something steaming, and…a flower, all adorn the tray in front of you, and you arch a brow at Gale. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to feed you any strange potions or what not. Despite all my magic and study, there seems no cure for the common cold. No, no, this is just good old kitchen ‘magic’. A Dekarios family recipe past down for generations.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. You trust Gale though and take your first bite. It is delicious.

“I’m glad you like it.” Gale told you with a smile. “I must admit, I feel a bit conceded in this moment in being able to help you. I wish I could say it was pure altruism, or concern for your health, but it’s not.”

- What do you mean?

“Well, I’ve never had someone to take care of before.” He told you. “Mystra never needed anything of me but my loyalty. And…my body from time to time. You need me for things though. Not as often as I would like sometimes. Your independence is a marvel still. But for now, I get to help you. Help you on the road to recovery. I hope it is a speedy one but I have to say,” he reached out and took your hand in his own, “I don’t mind taking care of you.”

You suppose his underlying message was sweet, and you weakly squeeze his hand back.

“I’ll leave you to eat and rest then. Should you need anything, anything at all, just ring this bell and I’ll come to help.” A bright, crystal bell appeared in Gale’s hand, which he presented to you before putting it on your tray. “Be well darling.” He gave you a quick kiss before he saw himself out. Checking on you regularly, with or without the bell, to make sure you didn’t need anything.

Wyll

“Still feeling under the weather then?” You look up to see Wyll entering the room. A bowl of something in his hand. “Come on. Sit up. You need to eat this.”

- Continue to lay down.

“Come on…don’t be like that.” Wyll moved to help you up with his free hand. As delicate and gentle as a badger as he hoisted you up. “Here. This will help you well better.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. It smelled of spices though. Rich and full, as well as a red color to it. To humor Wyll, you take a bite.

- It’s spicy!

“Of course it is. That’s how you know it helps. Tri-pepper soup. My grandmother used to make it for me when I was sick as a boy.” You stop gulping the water by your bed and look at Wyll. “Since my mother was gone, she took care of me often when my father was away. The duties of his work, then Flaming Fist, and then again Grand Duke kept him away a lot. So, she stepped in to take care of me. Until she got older, I had to take care of her. ‘til the end.”

You lower your spoon and just watch Wyll. The loss etched on his face like his scars. For someone usually so good natured, you forget how much he had lost in his life.

“But! Her recipes live on. Now, eat your soup to help sweat out the sickness. And you’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I guarantee it.”

You feel a little manipulated into eating the spicy dish. How could you say no to such a fine, dead woman’s recipe? It takes a lot of will, but you eventually gulp it all down. Wyll seemed pleased. He then took your bowl and left you to rest. Your stomach churning with the spicy soup now bubbling in it. Unable to fall back asleep with the torrent raging in your gut.

Shadowheart

A cool towel pressed against your forehead like a soft caress. Gentle and serene.

“I wish there was more I could do for you.” Shadowhearts voice called out behind the dark of your eyes. “My magic is only for curing wounds and battle ailments. Sicknesses well…being a source of comfort was not something that was taught to me.”

You want to tell Shadowheart that she was doing a fine job. But your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt like it was made of iron it was so heavy in your mouth.

“I can’t recall a time I was sick like this in the past. But I do remember once I was poisoned. Part of my training. Warriors of Shar must be immune to all poisons, least we fail our mistress in such an unseemly way. Anyway, it was horrible. I would writhe in pain for hours while I waited for the poisons to pass. Nocturne would come in now & then, with Mother Superior was busy, and dab my head like this. It helped. I hope it helps you all the same.”

- Turn towards Shadowheart and tell her thank you.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Shadowheart replied with a sweet smile. “After everything you’ve done for me. This is the least I can do.”

Shadowheart took the cloth away and stood from the bed. “I’ll let you rest now. I can…find some herbs and salts to maybe help with the pain. Again, this is not my forte. Eliminating pain. But…I can try.”

She rushed out of the room. Set on her task as you continued to lay in bed. Slowly drifting off to sleep for now, now that your skin was not so hot and your mind a little clearer.

Lae'zel

“What are you still doing in bed?” You turn to look at Lae'zel in your doorway. Her frame stoic and strong as ever. “There is much to be done today. We must make hast.”

- I can’t Lae'zel. I’m sick.

“tas'ki! Absurd. You’re much stronger than some istik disease. Get up and get moving. Your body will not heal if you continue to wallow in this manner.”

You try to sit up as Lae'zel commanded, but your head swims the second you get upright. Lae'zel sucked on her teeth. “Nevermind. Clearly you are in no condition to be out of bed today. I am unaccustomed to this, as no true Githyanki would dream of falling ill and be a burden on their crèche. Perhaps rest is what is needed.”

Before you can tell her thank you, Lae'zel went over to the window and opened it. Letting the cool, fresh air in. “But you must leave this window open to purge the sickness out. Wallowing is one thing, but to marinate in such sick? Disgusting.” You glare at her a little. Not appreciating that she was implying that this was all your plan.

“I will leave you to your rest and check on your progress later. I trust your recovery will be swift.” Lae'zel stepped closer to the bed. Still far enough away, but closer than she was. “Get well soon. It pains me to see a warrior like you weakened this way. And someone I am fond of. It crushes my heart. I do not like it.”

Your face turns into one of surprise at Lae'zel’s back as she left the room. Closing the room behind her. You had not expected that from Lae'zel. To show open concern. The room was much colder now, but the crisp air was a welcome expanse in your lungs. You would need to get up to close them later, but perhaps that was Lae'zel’s plan all along.

Karlach

“Hey there soldier. Feeling any better?” You lull your head to the side to stare at Karlach. “Oof. That good eh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

She pulled up a chair by your bed and sat down. Face still in that almost perpetual smile of hers. Optimistic as ever, although a bit more tepid than usual. “But hey, you’ll be fine though. You’re tough! I’d check if you had a fever or something but…you know.” Karlach held up her hand. Still fiery and hot from her infernal engine, even if she was gifted to touch. “I wouldn’t be the best judge on who runs hot.”

The two of you sat there for a bit in quite. But quite was never long with Karlach. “So how do you think you got sick? Too long out in that swamp marsh? Going to sleep with wet hair again? Like, when I get stabbed, I know exactly where it came from. Do you know when you got bit by the sickness bug?”

- I don’t know Karlach. Please let me rest.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous. Guess that doesn’t help. I’m just worried…you know…that this might not be something I can help you fight. Monster, demi-gods, ghouls, I can fight that all day! But this…you have to do it on your own. And I hate sitting by the side lines.”

Karlach stood. Leaning in to give you a brief, warm peck on your cheek. “I’ll let you get some sleep then. But let me know if you want some company. I’m really good at that part.”

The tiefling then left, and the room suddenly felt emptier without her presence. Like a void had just sucked up all the energy without Karlach in it. Still, you fell asleep. Trying to think of interesting dreams that you might share with Karlach when you wake up. You were sure she would enjoy that.

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roosterforme · 11 months ago

Text

Adult Education Part 19 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake's birthday starts out with the perfect breakfast in bed and ends with a night out at the Hard Deck with his girlfriend. Somewhere along the way, Jessica gets the wrong impression of the way he feels about her and the gift she got for him, but he's ready to straighten her out.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, language, drinking, 18+

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake woke up late with sunlight on his face and Jessica still sound asleep next to him. His fingers were threaded through her hair, and his lips were close to her forehead. When she squirmed a little bit in her sleep, he kissed her, and she tucked herself under his chin.

"Happy birthday," she whispered, and he stroked his thumb along her cheek.

"You already told me that last night," he drawled softly.

"Is there a limit on how many times I'm allowed to say it today?" She kissed his Adam's apple and ran her fingers through his chest hair, and he melted at her touch.

"No," he whispered. "I'm just not used to anyone making a fuss over me."

"So you said," Jessica replied. "Do you want to make waffles? I'd offer to do it, but I think you should at least supervise."

Jake chuckled and pulled the blanket higher up over both of them. "Not yet," he murmured against her lips. "I just want a little bit more of this first." She let him pull her against his body while he rolled onto his back, and she ended up on top of him with a smile on her face. "God, Jessica," he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You're so fucking gorgeous."

He saw the blush that colored her cheeks before she rested her head against his chest. "I should be the one showering you with compliments today," she mumbled. "Not the other way around."

Jake grinned and tucked his hands behind his head. "Go for it," he said, and she met his eyes again. "Do your worst."

She took his chin in her hand and moved his head around at different angles. "You're okay looking," she said with a shrug. "For a blonde." She was obviously trying not to laugh as she said, "And your body is decent."

"Decent?" he repeated.

"Yeah. You heard me."

In an instant she was on her back with both of her hands pinned above her head in one of his, and Jake's fingers grazed her side. "There goes the idea I had where you were going to be nice to me all day."

She laughed and tried to squirm away from his fingers. "You told me to do my worst! You're hot, and you know it. Now don't you dare tickle me."

Jake winked at her before gently squeezing her below the ribs making her squeal. "That's just a little threat right there, Smart Girl. To keep you in line."

"I'll be nice!"

When he released her hands, she looped them around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. She was still laughing, which made him laugh. And then Jake just made out with his girlfriend. His hands stayed on her waist even though she was naked and perfect, and hers remained on his shoulders and in his hair.

"I like this," he whispered against her neck. "Having you here is a nice birthday treat."

She nipped his lips and ran her nose along his cheek as their legs tangled together. "I like it, too." When she ran her nails along his scalp, he groaned and ended up curled up in her arms. "You're adorable," she whispered.

"I thought you said I was hot."

With a soft kiss to his forehead, she said, "You are. But that's not even close to being the best thing about you, Smart Boy."

Jake was so in love. It was time to say something. He was sure about it. But she pulled her hand away when his stomach growled, and she laughed. "Let's make waffles."

-----------------------

Jessica was wearing one of Jake's TOP GUN shirts and running back and forth between the waffle iron and the wall outside his bedroom door. "Is it straight?" Jake asked as he held up the print of his jet that she gave him for his birthday. And he was completely naked which just made it so much better.

"Wait!" Jessica called out as the waffle iron beeped. She was getting pretty good at this now. She made the batter this time with just the tiniest bit of help, and she knew just how much to scoop onto the iron to make them come out perfectly. Once a new waffle was cooking, she ran back to Jake again. He hadn't moved an inch, and when she checked to see how the frame looked, she kissed his back and said, "It's perfect."

He handed the frame to her, hammered the nail into the wall, and then hung it up. "I love this," he whispered. "Thank you."

Then he cut up strawberries again and ate a stack of three waffles that he told her were the most delicious things he'd ever had while she finished hers. "Actually... I lied," he said as he took the dishes to the sink. "They were definitely not the most delicious thing I've ever had."

"Oh." She felt a little dejected as she said, "I'm just getting used to making the batter, so I'm sure they'll be better next time." She was about to offer to wash the dishes when he started to grin at her. "What?"

"Come on, Smart Girl, use your big brain. What do you think is the most incredible tasting thing I've ever had my mouth on?"

"Oh!"

Approximately fifteen seconds later, Jessica was on her back in the middle of Jake's bed with the shirt pulled up to her chest and his lips on her pussy. She tried to push him away, tried to insist they could take a quick shower together first, but he wasn't having it.

He ran his tongue slowly, luxuriously up and down along her slit and whined her name as her back arched off the bed. "So sweet." He plucked meticulously at her clit with warm lips while he spread her open with his thumbs. "And so pretty." She could feel the cool air on her most intimate parts as he ran his nose and lips through her wetness, making her moan.

"Jake."

"Mmm. I love how you make it sound like so many syllables," he teased, looking up at her. "Like you can't get enough of saying my name." Jessica watched him lick his lips before he smirked, and then Jake spit on her pussy. She watched the strand of saliva leave his lips, and she felt it hit her clit, and she bucked up off the bed as his mouth met her once again.

She was panting, so turned on. She thought about the damp thong Jake had peeled off of her last night that was still somewhere on his floor. He'd fucked her slow and steady after that, but now he was eating her like he was starving. "Oh my god," she groaned when she felt him suck on her a little hard. "Oh hell." It was pleasure skimming the line of pain, and he soothed her with his tongue before doing it again.

"That's it," he grunted when she started rolling her hips up to meet his face. He licked her with his tongue flat and firm while she rubbed her pussy against him, completely out of control now. Her fingers were curled in the bedding, and she was digging her heels in as she got closer. Just a little bit closer.

When he wrapped his lips around her clit and cradled her rear end with both hands, Jessica came, thrusting against his handsome face and shaking her head. She was still hanging onto the bedding, her brain feeling fuzzy as he plucked at her with his lips, drawing out every little aftershock until she was giggling deliriously.

"Damn," he murmured as he looked up at her and dragged his lips along her inner thigh. "So much better than the waffles."

"Jake," she gasped, his name coming out with surprised laughter as she carefully propped herself up on her elbows. He was kissing her knee now and running his hands along her skin, but she noticed his cock was so hard, so red and so ready to go. "Are you gonna fuck me, birthday boy?"

His eyes went a little wide as she bit her lip. "Is that okay?"

She nodded. "Absolutely."

In an instant he was easing his cock inside her and kissing her lips. "I didn't want it to feel like too much," he whispered, his voice ragged as he started to thrust. He tasted like her, and she was exhausted, but it still wasn't too much at all. Not with the way he was already so close, and the way he talked her through it. "I didn't want you to think I expected anything more than the pleasure of my mouth on your body."

She moaned and raked her fingers through his hair as he filled her up. He was sweet and loving, and there were so many things she wanted to tell him. But as soon as he was spent, both of them curled up together and fell asleep.

---------------------------

Jake watched Jessica parade out of the bathroom wrapped up in one of his towels. She was insistent that she spend an obscene amount of time on her hair and makeup. Sure, she looked good, but she looked great all the time. He lounged back on the bed, already dressed and ready to go as she finally dropped the towel and started to put on the little lingerie set she brought with her. God, he wished that lived in his closet permanently.

He grinned as she hooked the black bra that he would be taking off again later, and he said, "Dinner's in the oven."

"Okay," she replied, smoothing the lace against her body before she pulled a little black dress on. "How does this look? Because if it's not okay, I brought like five others to choose from."

Jake raised one eyebrow. "Is this some sort of joke? You look perfect, Baby."

"Are you sure?" she asked, adjusting the fabric across her ass and only making the damn thing look even better. "I want to make a good impression, you know?"

Jake laughed. "You're worried about that?"

"Well... yeah."

He sat up and reached for her. "You know Bradshaw and his Sugar will be there."

"It's so funny to me that he calls her that, because she's such a hardass when she needs to be," Jessica replied with wide eyes.

Jake snickered, well aware of that dynamic by this point. "I think that's why he loves her so much," he muttered, wrapping his hands around Jessica's thighs. "But you have nothing to be nervous about. Coyote already knows all about you and can't wait to meet you. Phoenix will be excited to have more estrogen in her presence. Fanboy will ask you if you like Star Trek or Star Wars better, and he'll judge you relentlessly based entirely upon your answer. Payback is probably the nicest person you'll ever meet in your life. And Bob will blush and stutter as soon as you shake his hand."

"I might be the one stuttering," she whispered nervously as she adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers.

He stood and wrapped an arm around her waist. "You'll feel better after we eat," he promised.

She gasped in delight when she saw that tray of chicken and vegetables he pulled from the oven. "My grandma used to make these kinds of dinners on birthdays, and I guess it kind of stuck. I'll make one for your birthday, too." He realized that was five months away, but he meant every word of it.

"With all the fancy herbs and everything?" she asked softly.

"Of course. All the fancy shit."

He watched Jessica take a bite of food, and all he wanted to do was drag her back to bed for the night as she closed her eyes and moaned softly. "It's so good. Oh my goodness, Jake!" She cleaned her plate and got more, and he told himself he'd make it again sooner than her birthday.

When she offered to wash the dishes, he said, "I'll do them tomorrow. Let's get to the bar and get back home for the night."

After she slipped on a pair of red high heels that he'd never even seen before, he led her out to his new truck and helped her in. She talked a little bit more about work and her tenure review as he drove, and Jake realized how much happier she seemed when she didn't have to see Brian every day. He wondered what it would be like when that asshole came back to work. He would have to make sure he visited her office hours with enough frequency to keep Brian in line and keep his hands and nasty words to himself.

"It's so cute!" Jessica gushed when he pulled into the Hard Deck parking lot.

He laughed and said, "Don't let Penny hear you call it that. It's a Naval hangout, Reedy. Supposed to be a little rough around the edges."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Just like you're supposed to be a little rough around the edges? Since you're in the Navy? Yeah, nobody's buying that."

"Come here," he whined, and a second later, she was on her back on the front seat with Jake's lips hovering over hers. He had one hand up under her dress, wrapped around her bare thigh and the other stroking her collarbone.

"How do we keep ending up like this?" she asked as he moved his hand slowly down to her knee and then her ankle while he kissed her neck.

"I have very poor self control when it comes to you."

Her skin was soft and warm everywhere beneath his hands and lips, but he knew she was right when she said, "We have to go in and have at least one drink." So they walked across the parking lot holding hands, and Jake didn't even bother to fix the little smear of her lipstick next to her bottom lip. In fact, he kind of hoped their kissing was evident on his own mouth, too.

But after they were inside for about ten seconds, he started to feel a little apprehensive. The girls from last weekend were back, and they spotted him right away. He wrapped his arm around Jessica's waist as she smiled up at him and fixed her glasses. But the bar was also filled with a lot of women he'd hooked up with in the past, some on a regular basis. He felt warm and a little bit embarrassed already, even though his girlfriend didn't seem to notice.

"I know it's your birthday, but you have to buy me a Sam Adams," she teased, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He felt a little bit better as he ordered two beers from Penny. While they waited, he saw Bradshaw over by the pool table in an obnoxiously bright tie dye shirt and backwards cap, with his lips pressed to his wife's ear. Jake used to think they were a little bit ridiculous, but now he got it. He understood what that felt like as he turned toward Jessica again and kissed her next to her lipstick smudge.

When the beers were set down in front of them, Jake cleared his throat and said, "Penny, my dear, this is Jessica. My girlfriend."

He saw the bar owner's eyes go wide as they settled on her face. "Wow. It's a pleasure to meet you, Jessica."

"Likewise," she replied with a smile. "Jake told me not to tell you that I think your bar is cute, but I really do think it's kind of cute." She gestured to all the personalized mugs hanging from the ceiling with a laugh.

"Thank you," Penny replied. "It's like they don't think anything related to the Navy can also be whimsical."

A minute later, Jake was leading Jessica toward the pool table while she giggled. "You just couldn't help yourself, huh? Now everyone's going to like you, and the secret's going to be out."

"What secret?" she asked as he let his hand settle low on her hip.

"That I'm dating a nice girl."

-----------------------------

"Advanced Physics! Welcome to the Hard Deck." Jessica just gaped at her friend. Gone were the tweed skirts and pants and loafers. She looked devastatingly sexy in a black bodysuit and jeans with dark red lipstick and her husband's hand on her waist.

"You look nice," Jessica told her as she started to rethink the rather modest dress she was wearing herself. Actually, most of the other women here were wearing essentially nothing, and she wouldn't be surprised if she saw someone else's breasts soon.

"Hey, Jess," Bradley said, barely taking his eyes off his wife. "The beers here aren't as good as the ones Dev makes at Beta."

"I don't mind," she replied, taking a sip of her Sam Adams. It was still one of her favorites.

"Can we not talk about Dev? On my birthday?" Jake drawled, downing half of his own bottle.

Before Jessica could even respond, there was a petite brunette woman in front of her, eyeing her up and down. "You're joking, right? Hangman? You're dating Jake?" Jessica felt her cheeks grow warm in embarrassment, unsure what to say. "What do you possibly see in him?" she asked, sending a smirk in Jake's direction.

"And here we go," he muttered, kissing Jessica's cheek. "Jess, this is Phoenix."

But before she could even respond, Payback and Coyote were both there, too. And then she got cornered in a conversation about the Marvel Cinematic Universe with Fanboy. And Bob did in fact blush when Jessica told him she was pleased to meet him. Then she had a really nice conversation with Coyote about fuel combustion, and Jake handed her another Sam Adams with a smile before he started to play pool.

She was surprised at how easygoing and welcoming everyone was. She supposed it wasn't so long ago that the group had welcomed Bradshaw's wife with open arms, because she was clearly one of them now. This evening was turning out really nice. Well, other than the two girls who were looking at Jake like he was a snack.

"Wanna play?" Jake asked, holding out his pool cue for her.

"Sure," Jessica replied. She watched Bradley re rack the balls, and he let her break. So she did, forgetting herself for a moment. She ran the table just like she always did, sinking shot after shot, leaving nobody else a chance to even go against her. When she was done, she looked up and stood to her full height to find everyone gaping at her. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Jake burst out laughing, head tipped back in delight. "That's my fucking girl. Physics mastermind."

"Damn," Payback said, clearly impressed. "Usually nobody can beat me."

Jessica shrugged and said, "I could give you lessons?"

Now everyone was talking and laughing, and Phoenix winked at her as Jake backed her up towards the wall. "That was so hot, Baby," he whispered. "So fucking hot." His lips skimmed the shell of her ear, and heat flared through her belly as she gasped.

"Jake," she whispered, reminding him they definitely weren't alone.

"I'll behave until I get you back home," he promised, but she could feel his hand slide down from her back to her butt, and somehow she doubted it.

She spent the next hour feeling too hot while she tried to tone down her pool playing skills a bit. Every time Jake looked her way, she felt herself clench with need, and eventually she excused herself to the ladies' room.

"I'll be right back," she promised after he pointed in the direction of a narrow hallway on the other side of the bar. It was thankfully cooler back here and a lot quieter, too. Jessica took a few minutes to get herself under control. It must be obvious to everyone what she was thinking about doing with Jake later in the privacy of his condo. She washed her hands and realized that her lipstick was smudged, but when she checked herself in the mirror to fix it, she looked happy.

With a smile, she smoothed down her dress and headed back out into the noisy bar toward the group of aviators. But she stumbled in her heels when she saw Jake next to the jukebox with his back to her and a girl wearing tiny shorts in his personal space. Jessica didn't even need to be good at reading lips to know that she just told Jake I miss you.

The two beers she drank started to sour in her stomach as she watched the other woman reach for Jake's hand. None of this stuff seemed like such a big deal when he mentioned it last weekend, but now Jessica kind of understood things a little better. This is what Jake was used to, and she was nothing like these other women. Her black dress felt like it was mocking her now even as she just finished checking herself out in the bathroom mirror. She was more covered up than basically anyone here besides the bartenders, and she flushed in embarrassment.

Jessica took a few steps closer while Jake pulled his hand free, but she could clearly hear the woman ask him, "Do you remember what I gave you for your birthday last year? I could take you outside and suck your cock again. Or we could hook up in your truck like a few months ago."

Jake was adamantly shaking his head and backing up, turning toward the bathroom, and then he saw Jessica standing right there. "Reedy," he groaned miserably, reaching out for her just as she stepped further away from him. "Please."

Tears filled her eyes as she watched the other woman grin before walking away, and if she was embarrassed before, now she was mortified. Jessica got Jake an actual birthday present and wrapped it up for him when she should have been offering to do those kinds of things instead? Why was she even here? And how many of these women were looking at her with pity in their eyes, because they knew she was completely out of her depth?

"God, I miss Chippy's," she gasped softly as she tried to turn away from her boyfriend.

"Baby, listen," he begged, ending up in front of her again no matter which way she turned. "I haven't even looked at her in months. Since before we met!"

She kind of nodded as her lips quivered. It wasn't that she didn't believe him. "I know," she managed, trying to look at him through her tears. "I'm just embarrassed about what I gave you for your birthday. I mean, I can give you a blowjob here if that's what you want. I just...didn't know."

He dropped his hands to his sides and looked at her as if she'd just slapped him. "That's not... Jessica, that's not what I want." He swallowed hard and raked his fingers through his hair as he groaned and looked at the floor.

"I should have put all the pieces together," she whispered. "I never offered to do anything like that for you before." Her mind was filled with the image of some other woman going down on him right outside where anyone could stumble upon them in the darkness, and she hiccupped awkwardly. The next sentence was out of her mouth before she could even consider her words. "How long do you really see us being together?"

"Jessica," he barked, looking more upset than she'd ever seen him before as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer to him in the crowd. She didn't try to fight him as his forehead came to rest against hers as a tear trickled down her cheek. "Baby. I'm in love with you."

She closed her eyes as more tears fell. "You are?" she asked in disbelief as he pressed her back against the wall next to the jukebox, afraid to meet his eyes. She'd almost said the words before, but she convinced herself it was too soon for them.

"Reedy," he gasped, wiping at her tears behind her glasses with his rough thumbs. "Please look at me." When she opened her eyes, his expression was soft but anxious, and he moved one hand back to her waist like he was afraid she was going to try to run away. "I love you. I love you, because you're not like everyone else. You're not offering to do that shit here, because you don't have to do anything like that to have all of my attention."

She stared at him with softly parted lips while her heart pounded, and he kissed her. "Jake," she whispered against his lips, and he kissed her harder. His hand was a little rough now as he tipped her chin up so she was looking at him.

"Nobody else has ever called me smart before. Nobody else ever cared about my opinions before you, Jessica. You think anyone ever thought I might like to read a physics journal, let alone pick out some specifically covering topics that interested me? No. Just you," he said, kissing her forehead before continuing. "I love you, because you treat me better than anyone else ever has. You're actually perfect, Baby, and you treat me like I matter. And you made me work for it. I've been flying with a picture of you in my helmet bag so I can look at it whenever I want. I can barely handle going a day without seeing you. So when you ask me how long I see us staying together?" He sighed and studied her face before he said, "Forever? Or until you come to your senses? You tell me, Reedy."

She threw her arms around his neck so hard, he grunted as he caught her. "I love you, too. And I'm sorry I said that. I didn't mean it. I'll never come to my senses."

Jake laughed, and something like a giggle mixed with a sob escaped Jessica's lips before he kissed her again. It was really loud inside the bar now, but they were tucked right next to the jukebox like they were alone, and he dragged his lips against hers and tasted her tongue until he was practically gasping for air. "I love you," he told her again, green eyes earnest. "I've never said that to a woman before tonight, but I love you so much, Jessica."

She scraped her nails along the stubble on his jaw and cupped his cheek, her heart ready to overflow. "Will you let me beat you at pool one more time before we leave?"

"Anything you want," he promised with a grin.

Jessica managed to inadvertently ensure her victory as she whispered to Jake how much she loved him until his cheeks were flushed and he was missing almost every shot. "I don't even care," he announced after she won. Then he quickly said goodnight to everyone else and accepted birthday hugs as he held onto Jessica's hand.

When she couldn't run across the parking lot in her heels, Jake carried her while she laughed. "I just want to get home, look at the cool birthday gift that's hanging on my wall, and unwrap you in bed."

Two hours later, when he finally completed everything on his list and finished making love to his girlfriend, Jake lounged back against his pillow as he caught his breath.

"Did you have a nice birthday?"

"The best."

------------------------

Jessica basically only needs to exist to have Jake's full attention. I'll be wrapping up this series soon! Get at me if there's something you're dying to see! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 20

@blahehblah

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497 notes · View notes

melodic-haze · 7 months ago

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Okay, hear me out. Having the power over the Tsaritsa herself

If we get Arle our levels should surely surpass and manage to get the ice woman herself under our thumb.. RAHSHSHHAHD the thought alone makes me so turned on Imaginee???

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Tsaritsa x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Degredation 🤷‍♀️✌️ one day I will use this part for something genuinely worrying like someone dying idk but today is NOT that day

☆ — NOTES: When I tell you I stared before screaming in sheer glee 😭😭😭 LIKE THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME AND MY POWER FANTASIES HALLELUJAH

God I love having powerful women at my feet ty YESSIR I CAN IMAGINE IT AND I'M GOING INSANE❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

This woman was once a goddess so full of love, only for her heart to harden once she ran out of love to give :(((( it's up to you to give her that love again 🥰

In all seriousness though it is such a PRIVILEGE to be let past the many walls she has made for herself, let alone being able to hold her heart in your hands. Please hold it gently :( I know you lot wanna get on with it already but the path towards loving and domming this archon is! Very difficult! But in the end it's so worth it :333 bc she will show you pure, utter love and devotion—it'll have everyone, especially the Harbingers, jealous of such a connection, though whether they're jealous of you for being in the arms of their Tsaritsa or they're jealous of their GOD being the receiver of your love is anyone's guess

Ofc there's always the option where you date the Harbingers too but like that isn't the focus here shhhhh 🤫🤫🤫🤫

Once you have gained her full trust, now all you need is to reassure her that it's okay to put down her crown whenever it's just the two of you. It'll certainly take a while again, but when she finally has the courage to let go and essentially give you the reigns, well...

It started off with the same sort of song-and-dance, with the two of you kissing each other deeply as your hands roamed around each other's bodies.. yet usually none of your actions have ever gone beyond simply feeling each other up and building up that excitement before simply letting it down lightly and settling for something less.. carnal.

This time, however, it's as if some hidden switch had been found—you know not of what spurred your beloved archon to get more starved for touch than usual, with her hands wandering within the confines of your clothing and brushing onto bare skin, but you weren't complaining in the least.. though you couldn't help but feel confused.

It is only when she backs you up and pushes you down onto the bed before straddling your lap with a brand new look in her eyes, so utterly clouded with need, that you realise what she wants.

"Are you sure? You know I don't mind waiting for as long as you need."

"And how long will you last in this world before it takes you from me too?" The Tsaritsa shakes her head with a sad smile as she focuses on you despite the lustful daze she's in, "No, I am ready to be taken by you, in both body and soul."

You couldn't help but soften at your lover's confession, warmth filling you despite the cold radiating off her skin—something of a side effect from being the Cryo Archon, you had guessed—and just a touch of melancholy brushing against your heart as she speaks of her fear for the loss of you.

It's not as if you were going to simply discard such a proclamation, especially when it comes from the Goddess of Love herself, so you gently brush a hand on her cheek before moving down to squeeze her bicep in reassurance, "If that is what my Archon wants, then--"

"No."

"No?"

"Within the confines of this room, I do not want to be above your stature." She wraps her hands around your neck, causing you to shiver pleasantly at the icy contact, "I wish to be equals.. and..."

"And..?"

Her voice was quieter this time, a lot more bashful as she looks away with a rosy tint on her cheeks, "Perhaps even.. below you.. with a loss of my power."

"..You're sure?"

"Yes, I..." She lets out a light exhale before looking at you with true sincerity in her eyes, "I trust you with full control over me."

You try to find the words that seem appropriate to answer with, and yet you find none. So you kiss her tenderly at first.. before deepening the kiss, taking charge as you pull her towards you.

When she lets out a low moan of satisfaction, you couldn't help but smile as you proceeded beyond the line that the two of you were initially hesitant to cross.

Anyways after that, you have the feared Tsaritsa at the palm of your hand, ready and eager to do what you'd want to do ☺️☺️☺️☺️

Imagine being gentle with her at first, showing her soooo much love in your actions as you kiss and touch and worship her body. Her breaths are heavy and deep, perhaps even hot if it weren't for the fact that they came out as cold fogs. In fact, she's cautious at first due to her being very cold, her body temperature SO unlike yours but you tell her that it's okay!!! It'll feel even better anyway 🫶 why?

Temperature play ☺️☺️☺️ she's naturally really cold, so if you put your finger in her sopping cunt, your warmth is doing basically like half the work for you. Start adding friction into the equation, moving your digits inside her as you pepper hot kisses on pale skin and let your tongue swirl on her breasts, and she'll be squirming in basically no time due to how hot your touch feels compared to hers 🫶🫶🫶🫶

THEN you get rougher with her; adding more force into your touch and you start getting more relentless by the second and preventing her from actually taking a moment. The moment you say something degrading towards her by pure accident, you swear it just slipped out, at first you think you've made a GRAVE mistake like yk she said that you can do whatever but YOU DON'T THINK SHE MEANT??? THAT!!!!!!! But when a whine escapes her lips as her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head, her wet folds squeezing your fingers all the while, you realise she LIKES that. And that's like. Holy shit she trusts you THAT much that she's LETTING you essentially ruin her and her godly image

The moment you mutter both words of praise AND degredation is the moment she's gonna be SOOOO GONEEEEEEE❗️❗️❗️

"You're sucking me in," you mused out loud with a light smirk. "Who knew the Cryo Archon turned out to be such a pretty whore... For someone like me, no less."

She bucks her hips up with a raspy moan at your words, the sound absolutely sinful to your ears, despite the fact that at the state she was in, there was no way she understood most of what you said. Her skin flushed and her lips swollen because of you, the once ever-so-frigid archon was reduced to a pathetic mess.

Of course such a scene was an ego boost for you, not to mention a turn on.

Your lips traced a line all the way down, from her lips.. to her chest.. to her abdomen.. until it brushes her sensitive clit, your breath hot against cold skin. You feel her fingers tangle themselves in your hair, gripping tightly in anticipation and need for you to do whatever it is you wanted to do.

"My beautiful girl is so eager for me, aren't you?" You cooed as your free hand airily grazed the outside of her thigh before gripping onto it, "Don't worry your pretty little head, hm? I'll give you sooo much love, you won't even know what to do with it all."

All it took was one lick with your tongue, the muscle so unbearably hot to her touch, for the Tsaritsa to realise that you were going to make good on that promise of yours.

SHE'LL TAKE EVERYTHING WITHOUT A WORD OF COMPLAINT UGGHGB in fact she'll even DELIGHT in the change of roles, in the way that you're happily using and toying with her :3333

Overstimming her would be SO MUCH FUN because of the temperature build-up. Not to mention if you say that you love her??? Oh FUCK her reaction is delightful—she'll start fucking CRYING, both at the overstim and the fact that you truly love her and you were willing to show it in every way you can :((((( and suddenly she's seeing STARS behind her eyelids as she cums herself silly :3

From that and the later sessions you have, it's very clear who TRULY holds the reigns between you 🫶🫶🫶🫶 and with the Tsaritsa, who needs and DESERVES a break from being looked down upon as some......some antagonist in Teyvat's story, well. She wouldn't have it any other way 🥰

Oh. One more thing before this is done!!! She's an EXPERT at aftercare hello she's not the (former) Goddess of Love for nothing, just saying..........just give her a few mins to recover first. Or maybe an hour. Just give her a moment 😭😭😭 OR ALTERNATIVELY PAMPER HER AFTERWARDS❗️❗️❗️❗️ Take care of her, you'll see her cry again, something she'd usually refuse to do around everyone else, and you just gotta hug her and tell her you're here and it's okay and that you love her :((((

#hazy demos!#hazy explicits!#tsaritsa x reader #tsaritsa smut #sub tsaritsa #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #sub genshin #genshin women x reader #genshin women imagines #genshin women smut #sub genshin women

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luveline · 1 year ago

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kisses before dinner — steve comes home to his girls after a long day. 2k, mom!reader

Steve has a back ache twinging between his shoulders that takes his breath away as he treks the last step up to the front door. The door gets caught on the latch when he pushes it open, which is awesome, Steve’s so glad you’re being safe late at night, but deplorable in that he has wood grain etched into his jaw and no way inside.

“Girls?” He knocks the glass pane. “Anybody home?”

Everyone should be home. Your car is in the driveway, the girls’ shoes are by the wall. He pushes the door open as far as he can (not far) and weasels his face into the gap to look for you. It’s dark besides the upstairs bathroom light.

Steve calls your name a few times, but eventually comes to the realisation that you’re all asleep and he’s locked out. He closes the door and heads back to his car to scrounge the spare back door key from under his seat.

He fights through the garden gate covered in brambles to the backyard. It hasn’t been touched since summer, forgotten things left to the elements. Avery’s bike flakes with copper coloured rust against the wall. The trampoline net is tangled and fallen off of one side. There are plastic cups in the stinging nettles growing back beneath it and gummy bears swollen with water along the paving stones like some poor retelling of Hansel and Gretel. He unlocks the back door and promptly knocks over the trash can he’d left in front of it. His back whines as he cleans it away, but at least it’s warm inside.

It’s good to be home.

He shoves the toppled garbage back into the can, washes tomato sauce off of his hands in the sink, and lets himself bask in his own poorly lit company for a moment, rubbing his tired eyes. He was hoping for a welcome party. It took longer to help Robin move than they’d anticipated.

“I won’t be back for a while,” he’d said apologetically down the phone.

“Okie dokie,” you’d crooned. He didn’t need to see you to know there was a baby in your lap. “Just come home when you can, babe. And lift with your knees! I’ll put your plate in the fridge, yes? Love you.” Your voice turned to sugar. “Love you, love you, love you, honey.” You definitely weren’t talking to him at that point. Mother of my kids, he’d thought reverently, the strength of a thousand men restored for an hour or two before the fatigue truly set in and he and Robin considered leaving the rest of her furniture on her new front lawn.

He scratches his hair from his eyes with both hands. Mother of my kids, he thinks again. You’ve actually managed to keep the kitchen tidy, the only evidence of a day of play being the grape juice rings on the dining table placemats. How the fuck you’ve done it is a miracle worth marvelling. Three children, one (admittedly smaller) baby bump, and a full eighteen hours by yourself. You’re very impressive.

He decides to tell you emphatically with his face in your neck. He should shower, and he will apologise to you for subjecting you to his sweaty hair in the morning. You’ll shrug off his apology, say something sweet about for better or worse or maybe wrinkle your nose and kiss him anyways.

Steve honestly can’t find any shame about how much he likes you. Like and love can begin to diverge in a marriage, especially after kids when your duty as parents is more important than it is as partners, but you’ve yet to let him pull away, and he won’t give you a reason to. He’ll keep trying as hard as possible to be a husband you can adore. And you don’t have to do much, really. Realistically you give the majority of yourself every day to Steve and your kids, but he would cling to you if you got sick of it. He knows he would. You could turn hermit and live under the bed, and Steve would spend half his life on his stomach just looking at you.

Half trying to pull you out again. The other half getting the girls ready for school. He’s so tired he doesn’t realise that this is too many halves.

When he gets to the top of the stairs he feels like a lifetime has passed since he left that morning, bright and early at 5AM. There’d been driving, car swaps, booing at people from behind the wheel, a hundred boxes, a million trips up and down the stairs, and a suspicious washing machine recalibration. This was without the cold coke drinking, peanuts, popcorn, mistimed movie references, and the obligatory insulting of Robin’s girlfriend’s mauve chaise, of which Robin refused to participate.

Between all that, there’d been worrying, and a want for more phone calls. Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything at all, he’d said that morning, giving your face a fond caress. There’s a confidence that comes with this much love. Steve can pour every inch of his affection for you into one touch and knows you’ll soak it up like a sponge. Really. Any problems, any stress, any tantrums. Just call me. I’m ten minutes away.

You were grateful if amused, telling him he didn’t need to worry so much, and then offering him another slice of toast.

Is it weird how much I love my wife? he wonders, pushing open the bedroom door gently.

You’re actually awake! He’s shocked and a little betrayed to find you looking at him, but the betrayal fades when he notices the swelling around your eyes and your trembling arm as you hoist yourself up under Avery’s weight. He’s woken you up coming in.

“Sorry,” he mouths, frowning at your shakiness.

You manage a smile and beckon him forward. The problem is the little ladies strewn about in the way. Avery drools on your chest while Dove takes up the entirety of Steve’s side, spread into a star shape, and Bethie snores loudly by your knees. An especially aggressive one makes him laugh as he rounds the bed to your side.

“Hello,” he whispers, taking your face into a loving hand, “sorry I’m back so late.”

You smile into his palm but don’t say anything.

“You okay? Had a good day?” he asks.

You hum something nonsensical. He wipes at your cheek in the rough way you enjoy, your face bumped with every stroke of his thumb.

“Did you…” Your eyelashes flutter closed. “Did you eat?”

“Loads. Sorry. I’ll eat my dinner tomorrow.”

You wrinkle your nose. He’s been dying to see it. “Don’t bother, it wasn’t my best.”

“All dinners are your best.”

You cover his hand with yours, and then you steal it away from your cheek and kiss it all over. Steve bends down to hug you.

“Missed you,” you say at the same time. Steve laughs. “Was it a long day?” you ask.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“It was aeons,” you say. “The girls were good, mostly. Baby not so much.”

“Aw, no,” he croons softly, “what’s she been doing?”

“She won’t let me eat.”

Steve rubs the top of your arm. “I’m sorry, honey. You should’ve called me.”

“What are you gonna do, H?”

He breathes out into the side of your face. “You’re right, like always. What can I do?”

He can’t do a thing to ease your morning sickness, so… Steve ends up taking a knee on the bed beside you to hold you for a while, no rush to lay down even though he aches in strings and shouts. “I’m glad I can’t get pregnant. I’d have hundreds of your babies if I could and it would be torture.”

You laugh at his absurdity in the giggly startled way he’d been hoping for.

“Did you throw up?” he asks, pulling away enough to see your face while his hand starts the soft journey down your front to your bump. You’re about three months along and the bump came quickly. It’s cute and Steve loves it and he tries not to be weird about it but he’s weird about you.

“No, just kept churning. I made eggs for breakfast and we can’t eat them anymore.”

Steve kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye, knowing it’ll make you happy. Your smile follows swiftly after, and he kisses that with gusto. “I don’t even like eggs,” he mumbles.

“You love eggs.”

“What was it like being the stay at home mom today?” he asks.

“Hard. But fun. Avery was being really nice to me all day, did you have something to do with that?”

“Avery’s always nice.”

Your smile widens impossibly, “Yeah, but she was asking me if I wanted to sit down and if I needed a glass of water all day.”

Steve shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

“Well don’t do it again, H. She’s just a baby. She doesn’t need to worry about me.”

Steve strokes your forehead, totally in your orbit. “She’s not worrying. Are you worrying about her when you take care of her? And sometimes you need a reminder.”

You chew it over. “Okay… you’re right. You win that one, Harrington. Mostly ‘cos I’m too tired.”

Steve always wins when he gets to slide into bed next to you. You push yourself over and bunch the kids up tighter. There’s not quite enough room for him. He feels as though he’s one little legged kick from falling back out, but he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around you and Avery where she’s sliding off of you and onto the mattress between you both. The poor girl is in a deep sleep, dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Steve wipes it away.

“You comfortable enough?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

He rests his head against yours on the pillows. “Missed you.”

“But you had fun, right?”

“It was great. I feel like I ran a marathon.”

“Exhausted?” you ask.

“And accomplished… You sure you’re okay? It was a long day by yourself. That stunt you pulled in the kitchen? Incredible.”

“I thought you’d like that. I told the girls you’d buy them a pony.”

“You did not.”

You laugh into his cheek. “No, I didn't, you caught me… I’m fine, really. I did miss you. It’s not nice, not seeing you. I’m used to a couple of hours, but it started feeling wrong when it was dark out, I… it’s silly but I was thinking about how horrible it would be if you never came back–”

Your pitch lifts up as Steve gasps and slaps a hand over your mouth (doesn’t slap, but covers, big hand on your lips and pressing them shut without sympathy).

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He meets your eyes, smiling hard despite the fatigue clinging to you both, and doesn’t buckle, even as you kiss his palm again. “Pregnancy brain is a scary thing.”

Your eyes turn to melting. He’s putty immediately, pulling your hand away to caress your cheek.

“Wanna be crazy in love in the morning?” he asks gently. You put your arm behind Avery’s back and smile as she snuggles into your ribs. Steve kisses your nose. “Go to sleep, honey. I can feel how tired you are. Back to normal in the morning.”

“Love you, Steve.”

“Love you, too.”

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strangethlngs · 5 months ago

Text

── ❀⋆.ೃ࿔ somebody told me | steve harrington x fem!reader

✧ summary: [based on the song somebody told me by the killers] after breaking up with steve because of impending freshman year of college, both you and steve are haunted by what could have been. in an attempt to cope with the swirling emotions, you pursue a sexual relationship with eddie munson. halloween rolls around, and eddie invites you to a party. your blood runs cold in the midst of sweaty bodies when none other than steve harrington finds you in the crowd.

pre & post s3 steve harrington x fem!reader x slight fwb!eddie munson | angst, very slight smut vibes if you squint | no use of y/n

✧ word count: 4.8k

✧ warnings: MDNI! no full smut but talks of sex and sexual touching/dancing, use of marijuana, cigarettes, and alcohol, steve is an asshole, college struggles | if there is anything that i missed that should be listed, please let me know

✧ a note from s: hi everyone !! i listened to this song for the first time in a while the other day and immediately pictured this storyline and had to write it. this is my first ever fic on this account / first time writing for steve so please be gentle. i also want to put a disclaimer out there that don't write for eddie normally, but i did enjoy writing him in this fic so if everyone enjoys my eddie writing too i might add him to my list of those i write for. sidenote: as i was writing the party scene i couldn't get the image of steve harrington as jacob elordi in the club scene of saltburn out of my brain so enjoy that mental image xoxoxoxox

i'm so nervous to post this so plz lmk your thoughts & plz reblog/like/share to support my writing! enjoy <3

You gently pick at a loose thread on the quilt draped over Steve’s bed. You feel his eyes boring into your head, but you can’t bring yourself to look up at him and meet his eyes. You know they’re sad. Pleading. You can’t bring yourself to face it.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I really am… I just-“ you don’t know how to finish the sentence. You just what? You want to go into college single, why was that so hard to get out? It’s not like you and Steve had dated for years. You’d been casually together, only sporting the girlfriend label for the past 4 months. So why was this so hard? Had you known Steve wasn’t going to be able to get into the college you were going to, or most colleges for that matter, you wouldn’t have gotten as involved with him as you did. You never wanted to hurt him.

“You just what?” Steve prodded, not moving from where he sat, across from you on his bed.

“I don’t know Steve,” you struggle to get out, words failing you severely.

“I think you do. Just say it. At least give me the decency of a reason why you’re… dumping me.”

“I just think… when I leave in the fall,” you swallow, your voice pathetically getting smaller. “I should be single.”

He is silent for a moment.

“If this is a distance thing, we can just do long distance. We can make it work. I know plenty of people who were able to do that. I’m sure my manager at Scoops and I can work out a work schedule that leaves my weekends open. And we can alternate weekends to visit, or… or something,” he rambles on, shaking his head as if the idea of breaking up was not acceptable in his mind.

Maybe because, to him, it wasn’t acceptable. You were his dream girl. Even after a few months, you had him wrapped around your finger. He would walk through a wall of fire if you were on the other side. He hadn’t felt anything close to this since Nancy Wheeler. And you were nothing like Nancy Wheeler. And that’s one of his favorite things about you. But you hadn’t realized how deep his feelings for you ran, and you didn’t realize how deep leaving him would cut. It wasn’t easy for you either, sure, but at least you had a freshman year to look forward too. What did Steve have? Slinging ice cream? That insecurity of not being able to experience college at all was gnawing at him more than he’d let on to you.

“I just think this will be easiest for both of us in the long run… and who knows, maybe I’ll end up back in Hawkins after I graduate, or maybe in a few years you’ll be able to make it to college,” You offer, trying to be as gentle as possible. You stand up, walking to his desk to pick up your backpack.

Once you slip it on, you turn and finally make eye contact for just a moment, before he makes a noise between a scoff and a sniffle and breaks the eye contact, looking out his window. The vein in his neck twitches. You can tell something you said just set him off.

“You mean it will be easier for you.”

You furrow your brow. “What?”

He shakes his head and lets out a sigh, exasperated. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and slaps his palms on his knees.

“You know what… go and have fun at college. Go have fun and be single, while I stay here and make ice cream sundaes. That’s all I’m good for, right?” he sneers bitterly, his tone shifting from the soft pleading he just tried to offer moments ago.

You’re stunned and frozen to your spot next to his desk, hands gripping the straps of your backpack. “Excuse me?”

“I just don’t understand how you don’t want to even try to make this work. And I can only think of one reason you are refusing to try.”

You ignore the last bit, not even wanting to go there. “Steve, I just don’t think I have the mental capacity to maintain something between us. I worry I’d end up neglecting this relationship,” You really are trying to be a peacemaker here, but you feel Steve heating up, frustrated that his attempts to rectify this relationship were futile. Truth is, you don’t want to be single to date around. College was daunting as it is, and you wanted your time to be free to dive into your studies and figure out your place in this world. That, along with keeping up somewhat of a social life in a new big city far from the one boy you’ve ever actually liked would be hard enough.

“No,” He starts, shaking his head. “I think you want to be able to go out to parties and bars and flirt with and date whomever you’d like, right?” He spits, standing from his bed and folding his arms across his chest.

“Wow…” you slowly nod. You know he’s projecting, but damn if it didn’t hurt to hear your boyfriend you’d really started to fall in love with say. “If… if that’s what you think of me, I’m just glad I did this now.” You turn to leave before either of you say things you don’t mean, but Steve beats you to the punch.

“If that’s not the truth, why wouldn’t you at least give it a chance? You’re leaving me no choice but to believe that it’s the truth,” He saunters close to you. Angry Steve is not someone you are fond of. Sure, you had a huge crush on Steve junior year when he donned his iconic, yet asshole-ish King Steve persona. But you hated being in King Steve’s line of fire, just like you were right now. He’d grown and changed from those days, but if you got him upset enough, he would rear his ugly head. He stopped right in front of you, reaching around you to the door to exit his room. He gave you a look up and down you can only describe as pure disgust and muttered close to your face, “have fun with those college boys.”

You let out an airy laugh, his condescending words and tone sending you over the edge. You turn and fiercely walk to the staircase and stop at the edge. You know it’s a low blow. You know it’s hitting him where it hurts. But you’re so mad, you don’t recognize the man you’d gotten to know for the past few months. You spit out the sentence without thinking twice.

“I know you couldn’t possibly understand what I’m feeling because you couldn’t get into any colleges, but it’s not my fault you slacked off and didn’t get the grades. Don’t be bitter at me because I’m leaving in the fall and you’re not.”

You don’t have time to see his hurt reaction before you turn on your heel and race down the stairs and out the front door. As soon as the words left your lips you felt guilty. He’d been so insecure with his college application troubles and you used it against him. But it was over. You slide into your car and quickly speed down the road. You take a shaky breath in and out as you drive, trying to put Steve in the back of your mind and bring college preparation thoughts to the forefront of your focus.

✧

You push through the front door of your dorm building, heaving your heavy backpack through the long hall. Your eyes ached from reading your textbook for hours to cram in a last-minute study session for your exam tomorrow. You were teetering on a failing grade; you just knew it. This class in particular, but all your classes your first semester, were kicking your ass. You couldn’t afford to pay to retake classes. The stress of juggling all these hard classes was bogging you down, and you still didn’t know what you even wanted to major in. It’s not an exaggeration for you to say college was definitely not the exciting, thrilling fun you thought it would be.

When you push your room door open, you’re greeted with the smell of liquor and cheap cigarettes. Neither of these things you were above, by any means, but not on a Tuesday night when you have an exam in the morning. On top of your grades being atrocious, your roommate was downright terrible. Throwing dorm room parties constantly, always up at the worst hours, and messy. So incredibly messy. And the worst part is, she doesn’t even like you. She acted as if you were the one intruding on her.

You push through the group of girls in your way, ignoring the snide remarks, throwing your backpack onto your bed, fishing out your wallet, and immediately removing yourself from the room. You trudge over to the vending machine, hoping for some kind of food before you force yourself to sleep through the inevitably restless night. You grab some candy and turn, nearly bumping into another person. You mutter an apology and step to the side, engrossed in opening the packet of M&M’s.

“Hey you’re one of the girls in room 13 right?” The voice from behind you asks. You turn and see a vaguely familiar girl.

“Yeah,” you respond.

“You got a call at the payphone earlier,” she steps up to the vending machine. “Some guy named Eddie.”

Eddie.

Throughout the awful college experience you’d been enduring, your one saving grace had been Eddie Munson. You thank the girl and nearly race up to the one of the phones down the hall. You shove in some quarters quickly and punch in the all-too-familiar number. He picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?” you hear his voice answer, and heat flushes over you. But not the giddy, lovey-dovey heat you’d had when you and Steve would have your routine nightly chats, back when you were still with him. This was a different heat. Darker, more lustful.

The summer after you’d broken things off with Steve, you found yourself having a harder time moving on than you thought you would. The things you’d said to Steve you knew you didn’t mean. His hurt face swam into view every time you thought about it. It was haunting you, and you’d do anything to forget about it. One of your friends had suggested Eddie, being a drug dealer and all. You couldn’t recall who Eddie was exactly, but you knew he sold things that could take your mind off real life, so you were set. Soon, you found yourself not just picking up weed from him. It became smoking with each other and ordering a pizza, getting to know each other at a surface level, watching stupid movies and laughing at stupid things. You didn’t like him, definitely not in the way you liked Steve. However, you were very attracted to him. So, when he made advances one night you two smoked in his van out at Lover’s Lake, you most definitely weren’t going to stop him. It was just a one-time thing, you’d both agreed. Until he called you a week later. Then it started to happen more often. When you left for college, you both expected things would fizzle out. Oh well, you’d had your fun rebound.

Though, on a particular Friday you were getting weighed down by the toll college was taking on you, you found yourself calling him from your dorm, asking if he was free that night. Phone calls between you and Eddie started to become more frequent. Usually it was, “what are you up to this weekend?”, followed by him saying something along the lines of, “you should come visit. I got a new batch from Rick, and we should smoke it and see how long we can go without touching each other”. Because of this, you started to make occasional trips to Hawkins to smoke weed and hook up to cope and escape your personal hell that was freshman year.

“Hey, you” You smiled into the phone.

“I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna call me back,” you could hear him smiling on the other end of the phone too, a lusty drawl to his voice you detected immediately. “You weren’t cheating on me by being smoked out by some other college stoner, right?” he teased. The thing you liked the most about you and Eddie’s agreement was that you both knew where you stood. There were no complicated feelings involved.

“You know I would never,” you fake-gasp.

“So, listen,” you hear him shift on the other side of the phone. “There’s this huge Halloween costume party this weekend here in Hawkins. I’m not one for Hawkins parties… but this one actually sounds like it might be fun. Wanna come?”

“Most definitely,” you nod. “Are we coordinating costumes?” you tease, fiddling with the phone cord.

“Well, I actually have an idea, but it’s kind of...”

“I expect nothing less from you,” you cut him off. He begins to ramble about some Motley Crüe music video that he loves and how you could dress as one of the ‘hot chicks’ and he could dress as one of the band members and it would be ‘totally awesome’. He explains the costume details to you in the best way a male brain can, and you make a mental note to stop by a video rental store tomorrow to rent the music video and see what you’re working with here.

“I’ll be there Friday night, costumed up.”

“Oh, I do like the sound of that,” he breathed out. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

✧

As you pull up to the party, Eddie makes a point to trot over to your van door and pull it open for you. Ever the gentleman, dressed head to toe in an undeniably incredible Tommy Lee costume.

“Why thank you,” you smile, taking his hand as you step out of the van. You could hear the bumping bass from the party all the way from where Eddie parked down the street.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Eddie started, giddily walking, already producing a joint and sparking up. “Your costume looks insane. I don’t know how you managed to do that within a few days,” he lets out a puff of smoke and hands you the joint.

You give a twirl and slip the joint past your lips. “It’s pretty easy to be out shopping for things when you wanna spend as least time in your dorm room as possible.” It was true. After your big exam, the rest of the week had gone by smoothly with you busying yourself by either being at the library or out shopping and crafting your costume.

You both pass the joint to each other a few times and before you know it, you’re both making your way through the people crowding the lawn. Just before you make your way into the house, Eddie stops to chat with some of his D&D buddies. You decide to leave him to his friends, it’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything.

You already feel a bit tipsy, mentally thanking Eddie for roping you into taking a few tequila shots before leaving for the party. The inside of the house is dark and smoky, save for some flashing colorful lights illuminating the crowd of closely knit dancing bodies. You spot an opened, nearly full bottle of… Merlot? Was it merlot? You soon realized you didn’t care. Your fingers tighten around the sticky bottle, and you heartily swig it, the liquid grossly warm. Your feet take you to the edge of the crowd, immediately getting engulfed in the group of people, dancing to the music, happy and carefree to be anywhere but your dorm room.

You lose track of time. After a while of dancing on your own and progressively letting the wine, tequila, and weed all take their effect, in the haze of the dark, smoky crowd, you hear a wolf whistle over the music in your direction. You took a spin, expecting to meet eyes with Eddie.

Your blood ran cold, and you choked the swig of wine you’d just taken. Steve’s beautiful face was illuminated by only the occasional flashes of light in the large room, a lopsided, drunk smile on his face. He stood closely in front of you, slightly swaying to the music. You quickly take in his Scarface costume, a small voice in the back of your mind immediately assuming that a beautiful, blonde Elvira is close by.

You both stare at each other for a minute, you stand still amid drunk dancing teens. You quickly realize you are obscured from wherever Eddie’s view happened to be by the large crowd around you, but why was that your first thought? You try to glance around to see if Eddie had decided to come inside, or if he was anywhere in eyeshot so he could rescue you. But you’re feeling Steve’s eyes raking over your body. Heat flushes over you, and you clamp your thighs together, stifling the thoughts and feelings washing over you prompted by his seductive gaze.

“What do you want”, you ask, it coming out snarkier than you’d meant for it to. You’re just… uncomfortable under his heavy gaze. But not uncomfortable, like you didn’t want him near you. No, no. Moreso… uncomfortable because when you saw him looking at you the way he did, a heat ignited somewhere in you. It had been so long since you’d seen his face, nevertheless seen him look at you with such… lust? Could you even call it that?

“I’d been trying to get over to you for the past 17 songs,” he retorted over the music, just loud enough for you to hear. “You are hard to track down, you know that?” More teens were dancing into you, of course pushing you and Steve closer. Too close. So close that you could smell that he had been drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes. And his cologne. The cologne you’d complimented one of the first times you’d hung out. The cologne that reminded you of being close to him. Smelling it on his neck when you had been kissing his collarbone…. Heat flushed over your cheeks, and you’d hope he didn’t see it in the rhythmic flashing of lights. A particularly hard jab from a girl dressed as Madonna hit your arm, causing your bra strap to fall to your arm.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you choked out, frantically adjusting the strap of your top back to your shoulder, finally finding your voice again. You were suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Your hands grow sweaty as the wine bottle slips through your fingers. You take a swig, desperate to break the charged eye contact he was making with you.

“Did you happen to forget I still live here?” He snarked back, a goofy Steve Harrington smile on his lips.

“And so what if I did?” You respond, looking to try and brush past him. You need to find Eddie. He’s your crutch here. You need to remove yourself from the situation, because you know you’ll get in far too deep if he keeps looking at you this way. But his large frame steps in front of you, blocking you in between him and the group of girls behind you.

“You leave town onto bigger and better things and end up rightback next to me, huh?” He gives a cocky smirk and takes a sip from his cup, not breaking eye contact. “Funny how that works.”

“I’m just here visiting a friend,” You retort.

“Yeah, you know, I did hear about that…” He started, a hint of a scoff bubbling out through his lips. He leans close to your ear, one hand grazing the fabric on your forearm, dangerously close to the swell of your hip, the other hand clutched around his red solo cup. Beads of sweat form on your forehead, but not from the heat.

“Somebody told me you’re actually here with Eddie Munson,” he chuckled a bit, as if it was unbelievable. You pulled away and scanned his darkened and unreadable eyes, trying to get what he’s playing at. You notice the King Steve persona again, like you did the day you dumped him. You don’t know it, but something inside him flipped when he saw you dancing on the dancefloor, skirt riding up your thigh, bra strap slipping down your arm.

“Why do you care? I’m sure there’s some girl around here you brought,” you play it off like it doesn’t sting your tongue to say. You wanted to know so badly why he was asking. Did he care? Was he going to make fun of you? Was he hurt? Jealous?

“I just didn’t think he was your type, you know…” He persisted, raising his cup to his face, a dark smile starting to form as he speaks. “I mean… now that I think about it, something about him reminds me of Nancy. I think it’s the curly hair…” He said with a wink and a swig of his drink. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. You immediately knew what he was getting at. You’d been so insecure in your entire relationship with him that you were just his Nancy rebound. Idiotic Tommy and Carol would never let you hear the end of it with how different you were from Nancy, and it ate away at you and made you so insecure. Because you weren’t like Nancy Wheeler, like, at all. And with this comment he was not only insulting you, but your choice in having Eddie Munson as your date to this party. This was his response to the low blow you had made before leaving his house the day you broke up with him. You take a deep breath in, releasing your arms and shoving his chest with the top of the wine bottle.

“Was that the best insult you could come up with, Stevie? Is Eddie Munson making King Steve that insecure?” you mock him, the alcohol finally giving you your fiery attitude. “You know what, he may not be as manly as you think you are but trust me…” you drunkenly grab a fistful of his shirt and bring him close to lean towards his ear, “he’s more of a man than you ever were. Especially in bed,” you purr. You release his shirt and shove him away.

You’re expecting him to be stunned, to be speechless. King Steve, dethroned. But to your horror, he gives a dark, dry laugh.

The opening riff to a new song starts playing, and the crowd cheers, causing Madonna to bump into you so harshly that you’re thrown into a compromising position. Steve places his hands on your arms, steadying the both of you, so your back close to him, and he starts moving with the music.

“Oh, I’m not worried about him competing with the way I made you feel,” he leans in, millimeters away from your ear, hands sliding dangerously close to your hips. “I’m sure Eddie Munson doesn’t know you well enough to know the right ways to pleasure you like I did. Tell me,” he breathes, hot and close to your ear. Shivers run down your arms. “Do you let him use those pink handcuffs on you? You know… the ones I bought for you?”

Your mouth goes dry, numbly moving as his hands guide your body to the music with his. A gasp hitches in your throat as you feel him closer behind you.

“Just give me tonight… for old time’s sake. I think I need to remind you just how good I made you feel.” A shiver runs up your arm as his hand runs down your arm, gripping the wine bottle with his hand over the top of yours. He brings it up to his lips, your hand trapped under his. Once he swigs a few gulps, he slides the bottle down the front of your body, letting go of the bottle, but his touch lingering on your collarbone.

Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the fact that the song that just started playing is one of your favorites and Steve knows it. But something in you chases the high that his touch is giving you. So, what the hell. You give in. You know it’s what you want, deep down, even if you were stone cold sober. You couldn’t deny that nights spent at Eddie’s trailer, long after Eddie had fallen asleep, memories of Steve haunted your memories. You couldn’t deny it, even though you wanted to pretend it didn’t keep you up some nights.

You begin to sway to the music, Steve’s strong body behind you guiding you to the rhythm. His touch never leaving you. It felt so right, like returning to a proper stasis after chaos for so long. It felt right and comfortable and normal. His hands wander your curves, and you throw your head back. Steve knew your body in a way Eddie never had. Intimacy with Steve wasn’t just about immediate sexual satisfaction. It was about intimacy. Steve had cared about you, actually cared. He wanted to make you feel good. You knew the persona he was playing up tonight was a front to hide how he really felt. He yearned for you, especially yearned to make you feel good. You’d refused to admit it since you started hooking up with Eddie, but Steve had made you feel good in a far different way. And the fact that he knew it simultaneously pissed you off and turned you on.

You feel Steve’s hand ghost up your arm and to your shoulder, and almost instinctively, as if you were back to your old ways, you let your head lull to the side. Steve’s lips immediately attach to the spot on your neck that he knows you love. You let out a moan, inaudible under the music. Your fingers tangle into his thick hair, willing him to keep going. His hands lightly trail up the front of your thin shirt, and you can feel his fingers brush against your nipple. And suddenly, he detaches his lips from you, much to your dismay.

You turn your head, sighing in protest, and turn to him, inches away from your face. His drunken breath fans across your face, intoxicating you more than any weed you smoked or wine you swigged tonight. The lights flash from behind his head, lighting up his beautiful features. His eyes fall to your lips, and his large hand moves from your chest to cup your cheek, and he pulls your face forcefully to meet your lips to his. He wastes no time making the kiss as sloppy as the environment you’re in calls for, his hands running wild. To your surprise, you feel your hand gripping his shirt, your body aching to get him even closer. You give into the sensation and let your hands tentatively rake down the front of his shirt. You waste no time slipping under his shirt, hands dancing up his torso, Eddie a long, distant memory. But your lips grow cold as he pulls away. He sloppily smirks at you, knowing he has you in the palm of his hand. You hate him for it.

“Ditch Munson and come home with me,” he says, still close to you. Under the smug façade he puts on, you can see that his eyes are almost desperate. Your brain tries to formulate a sentence to decline, but you look at his face and see Steve’s real self through the mask. Not King Steve, but the real, genuine Steve. The one you love. Lips puffy from crashing into yours, cheeks flushed, hair tussled from where your fingers had raked through it. The smell on his breath intoxicates you. He feels safe. Familiar. Something about him you can’t resist. You never could resist.

“Steve, I don’t want to get you tangled up in something complicated,” you find the words tumbling out of your mouth, suddenly feeling guilty for dumping him only to end up getting involved with another Hawkins boy. What a slap in the face that must have been. But he leans in and kisses you deeply, stopping your train of thought. When he pulls away, he keeps his face close to yours.

“Let’s worry about this in the morning, yeah?” He nods, encouraging you. You know you want to too; you just worry you��re going to hurt him in the process. His hand finds its way to your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your chin. “Let tonight just be… tonight, okay?”

You gaze up at him, brain racing through a million answers to give him in the span of a millisecond. But you respond with the answer you know deep down that you really want to say.

“Let’s get out of here,” You slide your arm around his and start to push through the crowd.

please do not repost anywhere. please do not plagiarize my work as your own. please do not use my writing for any AI purposes.

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