#Corridor Junior

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Corridor Shares GIF-tastic Visual for "Jump Cut"

New Video: Corridor Shares GIF-tastic Visual for "Jump Cut" @corridormtl @subpop @subpoplicity @bonsound @bonsoundpromo

Mimi, Corridor‘s long-awaited and highly-anticipated fourth album is slated for Friday release on CD, LP and DSP globally through Sub Pop and across Canada through Bonsound.  The eight-song album, which was co-produced by the band and Joojoo Ashworth, recorded at Montréal-based Studio Gamma and mastered by Brooklyn’s Heba Kadry Mastering, derives its name from Jonathan Robert’s cat and features…

[senorboombastic]

a/s/l: Corridor

Remember the days of the old schoolyard? Remember when Myspace was a thing? Remember those time-wasting, laborious quizzes that everyone used to love so much? Birthday Cake For Breakfast is bringing them back!  Every couple of weeks, an unsuspecting band will be subject to the same old questions about dead bodies, Hitler, crying and crushes.   This Week: Off the back of releasing new single…

[3minsover]

Steddie who keep missing each other. Who aren't in love at the same time. It's neither of their faults; they're just not quite in touch, in tune with each other.

Sure, Eddie had a stupid huge embarrassing crush on Steve throughout junior year, senior year and senior year 2.0. Sure, it was made so much worse when in Steve's first and only senior year, Eddie found himself sat in math class diagonally behind the fallen king. He'd watch the way his hair moved when he ran his hands through it in frustration. He'd see the shift of muscle under his shirt when he bent down to pick up a dropped pencil. And every time Steve would smile, flutter his lashes and pinch his eyebrows, say; "I'm sorry sir, I just don't know", Eddie would find himself shifting in his seat, nipping at the skin on the side of his finger, knee bouncing under the desk. They didn't really talk beyond 'hey's in the corridor, beyond 'did you do the homework?'s - to which Eddie would without fail stutter out an 'Uh- so, no. I meant to- Just, uh. No.' and Steve would without fail flash a soft smile, bump his shoulder into Eddie's and whisper 'Me neither.'

It got easier, after Steve graduated. Eddie still saw him around, still recognised his car in the lot when he was giving Robin Buckley from band a ride to school. But it wasn't so immediate, wasn't so raw. And after a while, the butterflies would fade. He'd be able to meet Steve's eye across the Family Video counter without feeling his mouth go dusty and his heart leap into his throat.

Steve hadn't realised his feelings for Eddie were anything more than friendly, until he graduated high school. Without the daily glances across the classroom, the moments he'd always take to make conversation, it felt emptier. It gave him time to think about the way his chest would tighten at Eddie's shy smile whenever they talked. Steve hadn't realised he might be allowed to feel something softer than 'dudely bro-ship'.

That is, until it fades so the only time Steve sees him is when he drops Robin off at school, or when he comes in to family video to rent Halloween again. Steve's heart prickles at the sight of him, but after a while, Eddie's visits drop off.

Steve tries to keep himself busy, grateful for some time without inter-dimensional battles or Russian agents trying to kill him. Thoughts of Eddie drift to the back of his mind, for almost six months. And then in the spring of '86, Steve finds himself thrown against the splintered wall of a nondescript boathouse on the outskirts of town. And it's Eddie Munson from Math that has a shaking, jagged bottle held up to his throat. It absolutely doesn't awaken things in him that he never knew he could want, absolutely not.

But regardless, he's staring half-terrified into the dark, watery brown eyes of Eddie Munson from Math, and all he wants is to reach out and smooth a palm over his cheek. He wants to curl his hand around those trembling fingers and tell him it's all gonna be okay. Of course, it isn't. Steve doesn't get much of a chance to talk to Eddie over the next week, what with some vampire soul-sucker guy terrorizing the town, and Max getting possessed and the whole thing going entirely to shit. But he finds himself drawn inexplicably into Eddie's space, splits off with Eddie and has the girls pair up and then Eddie calls him 'big boy'. And his entire world stops spinning for a moment. For just a second, it's just the two of them, and Eddie's face is so close to his, his smile so wild and beautiful.

The whole world stops, before it rockets back into thrilling, terrifying motion.

In the fear and the panic of the final Vecna showdown, Steve has to thrust his feelings back down deep. He can't let shit like a crush get in the way when the lives of the people he loves most are at stake.

It all happens so fast, and before he knows it, Max is in a coma, Eddie's been torn up to within an inch of his life, there's no certainty that Vecna's even gone, and he doesn't know what to do.

For days, Steve sits by Eddie's bedside when he can - when he's not with Max - only sleeps when he does. He silently begs for Eddie to be alright, feels guilty for every thought he has that isn't about Max. He begins to resent how desperately he pines for the moments when Eddie's awake, and after a week, once it's clear that Eddie's going to recover, Steve doesn't visit him anymore.

With all the feelings that are getting jumbled amongst the multitude of all the other horrible nasty fragile things that are writhing around inside, Steve forces himself to shove any thoughts of Eddie down, to get over him. And before he realises, it's been weeks. He's still worried for Eddie, of course he is. The guy almost died in Henderson's arms. But now the world's not actively ending, now he has a moment to breathe, he wonders whether the sparking, shimmering thing that had his mouth going dusty and his heart leaping into his throat was the same thing that had him saying all that shit to Nancy in the upside down.

He can't trust that it's not just a trauma response.

After Eddie recovers, slowly and with more help than he'd ever admit he needed, he sees Steve again. But he's distant. Friendly, but impersonal. An acquaintance. Things are as they were before. It hurts, but he knows all too well that any of the flirtation, the playful teasing and longing looks can only be chalked up to the fear of the end of the world.

It's a couple months before Steve tells Eddie he's going to college out of state. He's leaving in a week. And everything that had been laying dormant for so long comes bubbling up to the surface.

"Shit, I wish you'd given me a little more notice, Harrington," Eddie says, trying desperately to keep the heartbreak out of his voice.

"I'm sorry man, I just. It all happened pretty fast and like if I didn't do it now, it wasn't gonna happen, yknow?" Steve shrugs awkwardly, runs a hand through his hair.

If I didn't do it now, it wasn't gonna happen.

"It's gonna be a damn sight harder to like you this much when you're that far away," Eddie's mouth says before his mind can catch up.

"I like you too, man, but hey, I'll be home for Christmas. You can catch me up on everything I miss, huh?" Steve bumps Eddie's shoulder, just as he used to when they were leaning against the lockers back at school.

"No, Steve. I- You're, I mean. I like you. In a- Like I have, I totally have feelings for you, dude," Eddie forces out, watching his sneaker as he kicks at the ground.

"Eddie..." Steve says softly, and it just breaks Eddie's heart even more. Because that's a let-him-down-gently 'Eddie'.

"No, no it's- Don't sweat it man, just sorta had to tell you before you- Anyway. Have fun at college. I'll- I'll be here when you come home."

"Eddie, wait. I'm sorry. I just..." Steve begins, looks so pained, reaches to take hold of Eddie's shoulder. He avoids it, ducks out the way. And then Eddie leaves, before Steve can try to do something awful like making him feel better or tell him it's okay.

Eddie doesn't see Steve again before he goes to college. Hears from Henderson over the next few months how he's getting on, all the babes he's dating, the assignments he's trying to actually do before the deadline, and Eddie forces himself to smile, crack a joke, whatever.

Slowly, he extricates himself from conversations about Steve. Doesn't want to hear it, but can't tell anyone why. So he finds excuses; he has to take a leak, just remembered he promised Wayne he'd pick up groceries, got band practice, whatever he can come up with. He doesn't even hear Steve's name, tries desperately not to think about him (and fails), until December.

Until the evening of December 24th, when there's knock at the trailer door. With Wayne already asleep, Eddie drags himself from the couch to pull the front door open.

Eddie's met with a coat-wrapped, scarf-muffled, bobble-hatted Steve Harrington standing on his doorstep. He’s rocking back and forth on his toes, arms crossed tight around his chest, hands tucked under his arms. His cheeks are pink, the tip of his nose pinker still, nibbled by the cold. He’s just as beautiful as the last time Eddie saw him, and it jerks his heart into frantic motion against his ribs.

He’d thought he was over Steve, that seeing him again would be just like what it is; welcoming home an old friend. Except all Eddie wants to do is take hold of Steve’s frostbitten cheeks, pull his face towards him and kiss him like it’ll erase all the months of pining that had gone before.

Of course, he doesn’t. Instead, he just balks, says "Steve? What are you-?"

"I had to see you. I’m sorry if this is like inappropriate or if you don’t wanna see me- Dustin said you seemed like, mad at me or something. And honestly I can’t blame you, really. I shouldn’t have- it’s not that I didn’t, that I wasn’t. What I’m trying to say, Eddie, is that I know it’s too late. I know I missed my shot. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you for the last four months."

"Steve-"

"I know I have no right to do this to you. But it was killing me, man. Because I think I might have- I think I might be-"

"Me too," Eddie interrupts. His mind’s whirring and tumbling, trying to gather up the pieces of Steve’s fragmented confession. Steve’s jaw hangs open just a little, paused halfway through a word. "I thought it’d gone away. Thought I’d gotten over Steve Harrington," Eddie continues with a sardonic little shimmy of his hands, "but uh, seems you’re a little harder to shake than I thought."

"D'you, d'you want to shake me? Off, I mean," Steve asks, dipping his chin and looking up through thick lashes, a shy, self-conscious suggestion of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"No. no I don’t."

"Oh thank god. 'Cause I don’t know if I’d survive that," Steve exhales, his small smile spreading into a grin. He rocks forward onto the balls of his feet again, and Eddie finds himself pulled into Steve’s orbit. It doesn’t matter that he’s just in his socks and the doorstep is damp with cold. Eddie crosses the threshold and curls his fingers gently around the lapels of Steve’s coat. Eddie’s struggling to breathe, little puffs bursting forth from his lips and clashing in the air, mixing with Steve’s own.

"Can I-?" Eddie asks, doesn’t dare say the word aloud in case Steve’s not on the same page; gives himself an out if Steve’s not where Eddie’s at. Where he’s always been at, really. It just wasn’t quite at the right time.

"Yes. Please," Steve breathes, sweet frosty breath swirling gray-white around in the thin, chilly air between their faces. Slowly, giving Steve plenty of time to back away, change his mind, Eddie draws Steve towards him, tips his chin until their noses brush. the very peaks of their lips touch, and Steve’s breath hitches at the contact. It’s the prettiest sound Eddie’s ever heard. Eddie sips in a breath, hardly daring to move, and lets Steve nudge their mouths together.

Finally.

Their lips press softly together, and Eddie feels Steve’s hands come to grip at the sides of his sweater, bunching it at his waist. He pulls Eddie towards him, moans softly, just the tiniest hint of voice slipping out and into Eddie’s mouth. A new prettiest sound.

Suddenly aware of their very public, very chilly location, Eddie stumbles backwards, pulls Steve inside with him. Steve follows enthusiastically, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel, lips never leaving Eddie’s for even a moment. They’re entirely wrapped up in each other, even as Eddie frantically unwraps Steve’s cold-proof clothing, lost completely in the feeling of their bodies pressing together.

They took their time, to get here. But now that they are, here is where they’ll stay. It won’t be easy, being apart for long stretches while Steve’s away at college, but now they’ll have a little something of each other’s to keep hold of until they’re together again.

They’ll have the promises they made each other that night, the words whispered against skin, the kisses pressed and breath shared. They’ll have the silent, precious exchange of one heart for another. And that will see them through.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine has always chosen her over you, until he doesn't anymore.

Genre: angst and fluff

Warnings: Lemon, Tangerine, and reader are in their early twenties, toxic relationship, swearing, violence, men (the gross kind), body/weight insecurities, cheating, intoxication

~ based on a conversation i had with my wife @little-miss-dilf-lover and lightly inspired by Dial Drunk by Noah Kahn ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

It was midnight when you heard the sharp knocks on your apartment door. You knew your roommate was already asleep so you quickly pad out of your bedroom and through the living room, rubbing your sleepy eyes as you open the door a sliver and peer out into the corridor. You see Lemon first, a sympathetic look painted across his features as he holds up an extremely drunk Tangerine.

Tangerine's face is covered in bruises, the skin around his eye is slowly turning purple and you see the blood on his knuckles as he flexes his hands. Your eyes widen and you hurry out into the hall, your bare feet against the harsh carpet as you quietly shut the door behind you. "What happened?" you whisper, worried for him. Tangerine just grunts, his eyes glossy. 

He's been crying. 

Lemon groans and holds his brother higher, looking at you knowingly. As if he knows the news will somehow break your heart. You stare at him, as if to say 'cut the bullshit' because you want to see if it has something to do with Macey—which it probably does.

Tangerine and Macey have been dating on and off for years. Since high school she's had him wrapped around her pinky, his head a lust-filled mess that very quickly turned into full-blown puppy-love. She'd always be the one to dump him and he'd always come back because he loved her so much. It was an endless cycle that lasted until now, your junior year of university. 

You hate her. You have never hated anyone as much as you hate Macey Addams. 

You hate her silky ginger hair, the way her dark eyes contrast Tangerine's blue ones so well, and that fake smile she reserves for you when you see her. You hate how she laughs, how she talks, and how she looks in those skin-tight dresses Tangerine loves so much.  

You hate her.

You hate how you're not her. 

"Ran into some 'friends' from high school at the bar," Lemon says, emphasizing the word friends with a grunt, "Said some things this dick didn't like so he had to start a fucking bar fight, like some fucking criminal. All because of some bird who doesn't want nothin' to do with you anymore, mate," Lemon scolds Tangerine, who slouches against the wall and slides down, holding his head in his arms. 

"Someone called the coppers and I had to bail him out."

Your eyes widen and you run a hand in your messy hair, kneeling in front of Tangerine as you look up at Lemon. "Really?"

Lemon nods and removes his hand from Tangerine's shoulder. He walks away further down the hall, shaking his head as he groans. Lemon's mumbling curses under his breath and so is Tangerine, only his sound sadder than his brother. 

"Hey," you whisper, "Tan?"

His arms attach themselves to your waist, holding you close as he sobs. You sigh, resting your hand on his head as you let him hold you. Sometimes you'd find yourself being bitter, because why does he love Macey so much when you've always been here for him? 

You'd gift him the moon if you could, but instead, you're stuck being just this—his best friend.

Not that you're complaining. 

"Y/n?" he asks a while later as you both sit on the floor of your room, having managed to sneak him quietly through the living room. You're nursing frozen peas to his knuckles as he leans his head against your bed. Knowing Tangerine was in good hands, Lemon had gone home. 

You hum, looking at him. 

"If I could choose who I was in love with," he begins, his intoxication still obvious only he's slowly sobering up. He blinks slowly, finding his words, "I'd choose you."

You look into his blue eyes you'd normally want to drown yourself in and your heart shatters. He means well, you know this. Plus, how is he supposed to know you're actually madly in love with him when you've never told him?

However, the words hurt like hell knowing his love for Macey is almost otherworldly. He speaks of it like a chemical reaction he has no control over and you're simply the choice. Something mundane and easier. 

You turn your head and quickly wipe a tear from your cheek so he doesn't see. You look at him again and strain a smile. 

"I'd choose you too, Tan."

* * *

Four months later, although sometimes you would find him lost in thoughts of her, she was mostly a distant memory and your feelings for Tangerine have been successfully repressed.  

The pub is extra crowded this evening and you slither your way through people to where your date is. His name is Adrien, which is a respectable name. He's handsome enough if not a little boring. You order your drinks and then the conversation turns sour. 

"I mean, females need to watch their crabs, y'know. You should really order a salad," Adrien pushes the menu across the table, his voice calm like he'd just called the sky blue. You frown, cheeks warm as you cross an arm over your stomach, feeling insecure in your dress. 

"Females?" you repeat in disbelief that a man like this exists.

He doesn't answer. The waiter comes with the wine and you gulp yours down in one go.

In hindsight you should have left the moment Adrien opened his mouth, but something inside you embarrassingly craved any form of affection up until he tried to kiss you outside the pub, and when you pushed him away for the second time, he called you an ugly bitch and stormed off. 

Your lip wobbles as you stare at the lamppost, your hand clutching your purse strap so hard it hurts. You sniffle and fumble with your phone, texting the one person you know won't hesitate to come pick you up. You really don't want to walk home.

Minutes later, his car screeches in front of the pub and he opens the door from the driver's side, looking at you with a concerned expression as you climb in, buckling yourself. "Thanks," you mutter. 

"S'no problem, poppet," Tangerine says, sending you a sideways look as he starts the car again, shifting the gear as he drives off. You sink into the expensive leather seats and look out the window. You sniffle again, still holding an arm over your stomach. 

You keep hearing Tangerine's ringtone. Someone's bombarding him with texts. You turn, catching a glimpse of the contact's name as she calls him up again. The screen flashes her name. Mae. Macey. Tangerine turns his phone over in the center console, turning off the sound as he focuses on the road.

You look at him, your frown momentarily distracting you from how watery your eyes have become from the evening events. "Don't you want to answer?" you whisper. You know Tangerine would usually jump at an opportunity for her attention. This time, his jaw clenches and he shakes his head. 

"Rude to answer the phone when you're with someone, innit?" he says, looking at you briefly. "Are ya okay, love?" he asks, his tone softer now. 

You're a little surprised he's putting you over Macey but you relish in it.

You shrug. "Hm, bad date," you say. 

Tangerine's nose scrunches and his hands tighten on the wheel. "Did something happen?"

"If you count him being a jerk who thought it was normal to comment on my food choice on the first date, then yeah." You roll your eyes and look out the window again, blinking rapidly not to cry. You cross your other arm across your stomach as you instinctively suck in.

Tangerine catches the movement and his frustration boils. "You look beautiful," he says and places his hand on your knee. "Don't," he whispers, waiting for you to relax your poor stomach. You do it with a sigh and you're silent the rest of the car ride.

Once you're back home, Tangerine agrees to stay the night to keep you company after such a horrible experience. It really isn't smart, considering your heart latches on to him immediately, and it is only sent plummeting when just before your eyes flutter shut to sleep, you hear Tangerine's muffled voice in your bathroom, her name on his tongue.   

Of course, he'd called her back. 

* * *

Six months later Lemon is throwing a housewarming party for him and his fiancée, Liv. You'd decide to bring your boyfriend of three months. Unbeknownst to you, Tangerine also had invited a plus one neither you nor Lemon approved of. 

"Y/n/n!" her shrill voice calls over the music as you turn, your champagne almost falling from your hand as you see her. Her fiery red hair is cut shorter but it's as pretty as ever as she drops Tangerine's arm and skips over, pulling you into a hug. "I've missed you." Macey's tone is sweet, almost as if you'd been best friends for years. 

You see Tangerine handing Lemon his and Macey's coat, whispering something to his brother who sends him a dirty look. Macey continues to hug you and then introduces herself to your boyfriend Charlie. You don't miss how Charlie's gaze flickers to her breasts in her navy skin-tight dress. Macey smiles sweetly at him.

You feel sick. 

You excuse yourself and find Tangerine in the kitchen as he looks for a drink. "Macey? Really? You're a fucking puppy wrapped around her finger," you spit, slightly drunk from the champagne and frustrated from the situation.

Tangerine rolls his eyes. "She's changed. We're good now."

"You sound so stupid," you accuse, walking over and shoving his shoulder in an attempt to knock some sense into him. He grunts and steadies you with his hands as he frowns. 

"You're sloshed, Y/n."

You shake your head and push his hand away, eyes lidded. "You fucking tell your girl to keep her dirty mitts away from my boyfriend then!" Tangerine's anger rises as he hates what you're implying just as much as you do. 

"She's not like that," he argues and you scoff, turning around to storm off into the living room again. 

"Not anymore," Tangerine calls but you ignore him. 

An hour or two later, after some rounds of charades and sneaking glances you wish you hadn't seen between Charlie and Macey, you're even drunker. Lemon is beginning to worry as Liv insists you have more water. You don't know what you hate more, that your current boyfriend keeps looking at another woman, or how said woman keeps playing with Tangerine's tie as she sits curled up in his lap. 

You think it's all in your drunken mind when you stumble into the backyard and see Charlie with his hand under Macey's dress, her leg wrapped around his hip as they kiss passionately. They're probably fueled by liquor and lust but it doesn't matter, the dam breaks and you turn around, stumbling inside, alerting them to your presence. You're crying as you slam your head into someone's hard chest. 

"Woah. Bloody hell," Tangerine frowns and looks at you. He's probably the only sober person here. He's been fully sober for more than half a year now.  His hand comes up to your cheek immediately as he pads at your tears. "Love, what happened?"

You don't answer him, only sobbing more as you push by him and rush into the upstairs bathroom. Charlie stumbles inside, buttoning up his shirt and he makes uncomfortable eye contact with Tangerine. He stops cold, clears his throat, and nods his head at him before he rushes up the stairs after you. 

Tangerine's stomach drops. He takes a calming breath and puts his hands in his pockets as he walks outside and sees Macey adjusting her dress and wiping the sides of her mouth, where her mauve lipstick had smudged.

She turns to him, her voice still as she says calmly, "I can explain, T." She doesn't sound remorseful in any way, a clear indication that he's been letting her walk all over him. 

He takes another breath and walks to her, his demeanor just as calm and Macey's expression falters. Usually, this would rile him up and she loved the adrenaline she received from calming him down and taming him. This? This was new.

"It's one thing to hurt me," Tangerine drawls, staring at her with a cold gaze. "It's another to hurt her."

Macey frowns. "Who? Y/n? Who cares—"

"I care," he interrupts and takes Macey's chin in his hand, not tightening enough to hurt her, just to scare her. "You went too far this time and I should have never given you another chance. This? Us? We should have ended years ago."

He releases her and Macey's eyes widen. "Tangerine,"

"Get out." He says sternly and turns around, adding in a harsh tone, "And lose my fuckin' number."

Tangerine hears Charlie banging on the bathroom door the moment he enters the house again and his fists clench. He strides upstairs and pulls on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling him jump as he looks at Tangerine. "Ya think ya haven't done enough?"

Charlie opens his mouth to protest but hearing Tangerine, you open the door just a little and peek outside, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and a mess of snot under your nose. Tangerine's gaze softens when you sniffle. 

"Tan," you whisper. 

Charlie puts his hand on the door and attempts to pry it open. "Y/n!" He sounds urgent but Tangerine shoves him away, sending him a glare as he lets himself into the small bathroom and locks the door behind him again. 

You're inconsolable now as you cry violently. As angry as you are with Tangerine for bringing her, you need him now. You grasp his shirt and rest your forehead on his chest, shaking. Tangerine is as mad at himself as you are, maybe even more so. He wraps his arms around you and inhales the scent of your shampoo as he kisses your head repeatedly. 

"Darlin'," he whispers, his voice hoarse, "I'm so sorry. I'm so fuckin' sorry."

He hears another annoying sharp knock from Charlie again and instantly bangs his heel against the door, startling you a little but he holds you tighter and barks. 

"Piss the fuck off, twat."

The knocking ends. 

* * *

An hour later, Tangerine has you sitting on Lemon and Liv's kitchen counter as they clean up from the party. He hands you some water as he rolls up his sleeves. One of his hands finds your thigh and he rubs it soothingly. You look up at him from behind your glass, unable to resist the question.  

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Tangerine's forehead pinches and pulls his hand away so he can cup your cheeks instead. He stands in between your legs, his eyes level with yours as they search your features. "Pardon? Say that again."

"What does she have that I don't? Is she prettier than me? Does she have a better body? I- I want to be wanted like her," you sniffle, your words slurred as you're still very intoxicated no matter how much water you've drank. Your cheeks are damp from your tears. "Why does she take every man I like? Why did she take you from me when I loved you damn so much?"

Tangerine's heart leaps at your words. "Loved me?" he repeats, his thumb caressing your cheek.

You nod and look into his eyes. "Love," you admit, "For years—and it never stops either and I tried. I tried, Tan."

You sound so sad.

His hand shakes on your cheek and for a moment you think he's leaning in to kiss you as your eyes flutter, but instead, he crushes you into a hug. You relax in his arms, shutting your eyes fully as you whimper and the sound hits him hard. 

He'd been such an idiot. 

"I would kiss ya," he whispers, sounding sincere, "I'd kiss ya if ya weren't so damn drunk."

You're speechless. 

Liv walks in, holding an armful of paper towels with Lemon on her heels. She smiles when Tangerine shifts away from you, clearing his throat, and you try to look busy, your head spinning from Tangerine's previous words. Lemon raises an eyebrow at his brother and Tangerine communicates with his eyes. Lemon chuckles.

"G'night, lovebirds," he grins as Liv puts away the paper towels and smirks too, slapping Lemon's arm playfully.

Tangerine's cheeks burn crimson all the way up to his ears. 

Once they're gone he turns his attention to you again, looking at you fondly. "I've been a real fuckin' prick, haven't I?" he says and pushes some hair behind your ear. "Lookin' at 'er, when what I wanted was right here in front of me this whole damn time."

You blink at him, his words sinking in but you're too drunk to comprehend. 

Tangerine kisses your forehead. "I'll make it up to you," he says, his chest filling with warmth. It's a promise. One he keeps because when you wake up in Lemon's guest room, Tangerine walks in shirtless with a breakfast tray full of an assortment of toast, beans, and eggs. 

"Monrin' love," he says. He's wearing that familiar smile. A peaceful, happy, smile. The one you haven't seen him wear in a while. 

Damn does it look good on him.     

tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @thewinterv, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader

[s-brant]

Teacher’s Pet

Anakin and Y/N’s relationship has always remained professional. Despite her obvious feelings for him, he never let himself entertain thoughts of reciprocating them…until now.

10k (18+)

Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex, cockwarming, exhibitionism, choking, strong language, inappropriate relationships, she’s his padawan but they’re both of age and he didn’t know her for that long, and hints of possible yandere anakin.

-

She knows it's wrong.

Every time he offers a mere glance in her direction in front of the others or rests a hand on her shoulder in a silent gesture to calm her in moments of particular anger, typically directed at the council, she feels as though she will burn alive from the sin she cannot stop committing. Not only is it against the Jedi code to form attachments, but for there to be an intimate attachment between Padawan and Master is an affront to everything they know. That being said, Anakin has never been the type to allow the rules to keep him from indulging the impulsive yearnings of his heart.

It wasn't intentional.

After all, he tried to keep himself under control since Y/N was given to him as his first apprentice. It seemed fitting at the time. Most of those in training were discovered and brought to the Jedi temple as younglings, yet Y/N was not. Hers was a path that was far more unconventional than most. He himself was an unconventional Jedi Master, so it only made sense to him that the council chose to place her with him. She was brought to them when she was a young teen, when Anakin himself was still learning under Obi-Wan, and she didn't see much of him for years.

There were always moments in which they would pass one another in corridors or end up in the same room, but they scarcely found reason to interact much with one another due to their respective responsibilities. Being older than most, Anakin included, when they were brought to the Jedi Order, she had to learn such basic knowledge at a rate others her age were given years to accomplish.

This impressed Anakin from a distance, however, he was too wrapped up in his own dealings at the time to concern himself with what someone four years his junior was doing at the time. It wasn't until after he passed his trials and became a Jedi Knight that their lives became intertwined.

It started with her.

When she first began training under him, she was much like an annoying young puppy, always nipping at his heels and following as his shadow with every step he took. It was clear for everyone to see that Anakin resented the fact that he had to deal with someone as hard-headed, relentless, and precocious as she, but all Obi-Wan could do was laugh at how blind Anakin was to miss the glaring similarities between him and his apprentice.

And where Anakin became annoyed with her, she became enamored with him. It was the classic case of the schoolgirl becoming infatuated with her teacher, which was part of what fueled his annoyance with her. He could feel it. When she was distracted or too comfortable, forgetting to shield her thoughts or emotions from him, he felt it. She might as well have been shouting her feelings out loud to him, and he prayed, on the rare occasions when it would happen in close proximity to others, that neither Obi-Wan nor any of the others picked up on them.

Mercifully, the images he saw coming from her mind were mostly innocent in nature during that first year they spent together. It never escalated past what was appropriate for a young woman of her age to fantasize about, and she never took it too far out of fear that he could, in fact, sense the direction of her thoughts. Later on, she became better at keeping those feelings and thoughts to herself, but, still, some managed to slip through the cracks.

It was months ago.

Now that three years had passed since he first took her on as his apprentice, she'd become a woman right before his very eyes. Of course, she was only a few years off from officially entering adulthood when they were first assigned together, but he always saw her as a child until the past year or so. Until he saw an image from her mind that changed things.

She was late to their agreed-upon meeting time in the morning, so he took it upon himself to seek her out for an explanation. Within him, he felt the anger bubbling up, poised to explode the second he found her doing whatever it was she felt was more important than their duties for the day, but the moment he got to the door of her private quarters, he halted in place. A strange sound came from within. He couldn't tell through the walls if it was a cry of pain or sorrow, but the sound of her crying worried him nonetheless. It sprung him into action, reaching out with his mind to see if he could feel her there, but what he found when he reached her wasn't what he expected.

Anakin is nothing if not protective and possessive over those he cares for, and his Padawan, whether he found her annoying at times or not, is someone of great importance to him. And, in all fairness to her, she hadn't been annoying to him for months. Slowly, the frequency of the images and feelings she practically shoved into his mind began to dwindle, and after years by his side, she no longer followed him around incessantly. In fact, he found himself searching for her wherever she wandered off to be by herself quite frequently and realized, underneath the cold exterior he put on to keep her at a distance, that he missed having her nipping at his heels all the time.

So, being as protective as he is toward those he cares for, he thought someone or something must have hurt her, whether it be emotionally or physically, to make her cry and didn't waste a second before trying to intervene. But there was no emotional or physical hurt to be found on the other side of that door. There was only pleasure.

There were positively lewd images coming to life in his apprentice's mind, but what stunned him most of all was that they were of him. No, them.

Anakin is no hypocrite. He would not admonish her for feeling sexual desire seeing that it wasn't directly against the Jedi code. Although he was sure Master Yoda and Obi-Wan would not approve, he had indulged in such desires before. As long as he did not form any attachments, there was nothing saying he couldn't, so he did. What she was doing, though...that was different.

He thought that it wouldn't have messed with his head so much if it weren't him she pictured pinning her to the mattress, thrusting into her with his ungloved prosthetic hand squeezing the sides of her throat, but that foolish idea quickly vanished. Once his mind actually wandered to the thought of someone else being the object of her desires, he became crazed with jealousy. No, he decided, he would never be okay with that. Even though he already had sex with others in the past, he couldn't stand the idea of her in the arms of another. It was always there, lingering beneath the surface, but even if it wasn't, he realized at that moment that he wanted her to himself.

That was when things changed between them.

Y/N had never known him to linger so much. He began to spend more time with her outside of their necessary training and missions they went on together, which meant the only time they spent apart was the hours that they slept at night. Then came the touching—his hand brushing the back of hers "accidentally" beneath the table as they ate, his arm thrown over her shoulder, and his hand on the small of her back to guide her in the right direction whenever she gets turned around. It appeared to her that he seized every opportunity he could to get his hands on her, but she didn't know what to do about it.

Wanting him had been one thing, but the possibility of Anakin wanting her back was another thing entirely. She felt safe in her assumption that nothing would ever happen between them, but everything changed last week.

He took her out soon after everyone was due to retire for the night and walked with her, shielded by their hoods, through the streets of Coruscant. Not wanting to be recognized in their Jedi robes, he came already wearing a rather unassuming, common cloak over a plain pair of pants and tunic. She changed out of her robes in the adjoining bathroom while he stood watch and waited, then came out with a nervous smile plastered on her face.

He said, "Come along," and turned toward the door to her rooms.

As they traversed the streets without as many people turning their heads to look at them as usual, she couldn't help but feel a weight come off her shoulders. Her hand twitched with the urge to reach for him, then, a second later, Anakin draped his arm over her shoulders and didn't protest when she reached up to entwine their fingers. It was strange, but she didn't dare to question it out of fear of losing the dreamlike moment too soon. She feared that if she spoke of it aloud, he'd realize his mistake and rectify it immediately. But she was wrong. Earlier that day when he saw her laughing with Obi-Wan, something within him snapped, and once he decided his fantasies of her weren't enough, there was nothing that could stop him from taking what was rightfully his short of her refusal to partake.

She held on tight to his hand as they entered a seedy-looking bar in the bowels of the city, eyes turning wide at how those surrounding them indulged in drinking, dancing, and even kissing out in the open without shame. Sending her feeling of surprise, he found his assumptions about his Padawan to be true—she had never gone out and entertained her fantasies as he had during his training.

He didn't let her drink, even though he noticed how she eyed up the people sitting at the bar with great interest.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, standing alongside him with her back to the wall.

"I've sheltered you. When I was in training, I figured these things out for myself. I know Obi-Wan wouldn't have encouraged it."

"Master?" she asked with a quizzical expression.

Anakin said nothing. His face was unreadable, a mask of calm that gave her no clues as to what emotions lurked beneath, and when she tried to sense his mood through the force, he was able to resist her. Being as advanced of a Jedi as him, it's harder for her to reach for his mind than it is with her fellow Padawans. Rather than explain his meaning, he turned and made his way to the back hallway, but not without taking her by the hand to guide her. The leather of his glove was cold on the bare palm of her hand. She could feel the hard material of his metal hand through the fabric as it gripped hers.

In a room at the end of the hall, a series of couches and chairs were laid out across the open space and occupied by scantily clad workers engaged in intimate relations with customers.

He spoke, slowing down to allow her to step in front of him, "I used to come here. When I found myself wanting to act on the types of urges that lead to attachments."

Her brows furrowed, though, deep down, she suspected where the night may lead them. No, where he was leading them.

"Is that why we're here?" she asked, breathless, then looked over at a woman who was on her knees before a man in front of them.

There was a wide-eyed, almost excited, curiosity to her gaze that set Anakin's body aflame. Yet, at the same time, it was nothing she had ever seen or engaged in before, so it caused her to take a step back into where he stood at her back. Her breath hitched in her throat at the feeling of his arm slipping around her waist, pulling her back until there was no space left between their bodies. Then, he crouched down to bring his face to her neck and delighted in how easily her head turned to make space for him. The hand flattened against her belly could sense that she was holding her breath in anticipation.

"Go on," Anakin said, his hot exhales clouding against the sensitive skin of her neck, "Choose one. I know you've been curious."

And while she had already stopped breathing, the last thing he said made her entire body go still. He knew. Somehow, he knew. When his metal hand came up to grab the base of her neck and squeeze it gently, she knew he was answering the question she unknowingly asked him.

In answer, she ground the curve of her ass against the presence of his growing erection and said, "I don't want any of them."

What happened afterward left her in a frazzled state of disarray for days. All of her friends noticed the change in behavior, yet she waved it off as not having gotten enough sleep lately and pretended not to be thinking of how Anakin had fucked her in front of all those people at that bar. Granted, everyone in that room was accustomed to it, but, to her, it was the most scandalous thing imaginable.

Anakin, on the other hand, made a fair attempt at hiding how he felt about it. Even when Obi-Wan asked him if Y/N was okay, saying that she'd been acting off, he kept his cool and said he had everything taken care of with his apprentice. It wasn't the first time he spoke to Obi-Wan about her behavior. When he first took her on and began training her, he sought his master out for advice on how to handle the—at the time—one-sided crush she had on him. And, for a while, Anakin followed the guidance provided to him by his mentor. He tried. He really tried, but, in the end, he couldn't help himself.

The past few days, however, have been an exercise in discretion on both of their parts.

They've been trapped inside of a ship with Obi-Wan all day, battered and exhausted from a battle which they hardly escaped from unscathed, on the journey back to Coruscant.

She sits on her own, trying to busy herself with inspecting the superficial wound she sustained on her outer thigh amidst the scuffle, while Anakin pilots the ship with Obi-Wan sitting beside him in the cockpit. It isn't deep enough to require attention beyond basic cleaning and bandaging, so she decides to leave it be until they return to the Jedi Temple where she can properly wash it. It won't be long now if what she overheard moments ago was true. Apparently, they're due to land in Coruscant in a matter of moments, and she couldn't be any happier to hear it.

It's been difficult these past few days. Not only due to their efforts to stop Dooku's attempt to kidnap Chancellor Palpatine, but because of what happened between them last week. Because of everything that has been left unsaid. It's not as if she can blame him for it. There are far too many eyes on them at all times of day for there to be an opportunity to talk about it, and once they caught wind of Dooku's plans, it was no longer a priority.

Anakin can feel her staring.

In fact, he's felt her eyes on him for the whole duration of the trip. His knuckles tightened on the controls of the ship as he resisted the urge to turn to catch a glimpse of his pretty apprentice. Thankfully, she had the foresight to keep her thoughts as innocent as possible to prevent Obi-Wan from picking up on any of it. He may be able to tense the tension surrounding them, but that could be easily written off as a consequence of their mission. He knows how much Anakin cares for her, and seeing her injured at the hands of the enemy sent him into a frenzy, keeping Dooku constantly on the defensive until he managed to escape. Obi-Wan watched as Anakin rushed over and demanded to see where she'd been hurt, on guard for any potential threat while the two of them assessed her minor injury.

It isn't until he feels Obi-Wan's hand on his shoulder and yet he realizes he landed the ship, having operated on instinct as he became lost in his thoughts of her.

"You did well," he says, then his face softens, "She's strong. She'll be fine. Don't blame yourself for it."

Anakin nods.

"I know. It wasn't anyone's fault. She was to learn how to handle losing and getting hurt somehow, doesn't she?"

This response seems to please him.

"Yes. Now, you can escort her to a medic. I'll brief the council on what happened with Dooku."

With that, Obi-Wan turns to walk away and disappears past his line of sight. Before he leaves the ship, he offers a few words of praise to Y/N on his way past. And after days of being forced to ignore what happened between them, they're finally alone. The energy in the room shifts the second Obi-Wan is gone. They can feel the tension in the air sizzling like a current of electricity between them. It's palpable. Through the force, they can feel each other's emotions flaring up into something uncontrollable after days of keeping themselves on tight leashes.

She hangs her head low as he comes to a stop in front of her.

"I'm sorry, master. I'll be better next time," she says softly.

In lieu of a verbal response, he outstretches his flesh hand to her in a silent command.

Her voice is hushed when she asks, "Anakin?" and he thinks his heart may beat out of his chest at the sound of her saying his name. The last time he heard his name fall from her lips, he was buried inside of her with one hand wrapped in her hair and the other gripping her hip for leverage to thrust into her.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he says before she drives herself mad with guilt over how the fight unfolded. "Come on, let's get you fixed up."

His hand is warm. It's larger, closing tightly around hers and using that unrelenting strength of his to tug her to her feet. Seeing that he held an arm around her waist on the way back to the ship before they departed—just in case she walked with a limp, he doesn't let go of her. He simply moves his hand to grab hold of her arm instead to keep the contact from looking too intimate when they enter the Jedi Temple together. Holding hands would look odd to any passerby, but no one would think twice about him holding her arm for support with a visible blood stain on her pant leg.

Actually, most people try to stop and ask if she's alright, but all it takes is a polite, "I'm fine," from her to get them to back off. In truth, she is fine. The skin is sliced open from the end of Dooku's lightsaber barely grazing her thigh in the midst of the fighting. She anticipated his next move and made sure to dodge, but it was a second too late. All Anakin saw was her groaning from the pain and stumbling back a few steps with her hand on her thigh before he rushed forward to defend her.

It's not a severe cut, but, of course, Anakin must make a fuss about helping her walk. She soon notices that he isn't guiding her to the medic's room, they're walking in the direction of his private rooms. They're on the opposite side across from hers, males separated from females, and he can feel her squeezing him tighter in reaction to it. He also senses her excitement. It lights up her face as she looks at him, analyzing every minute movement and twitch in his expression in hopes that she may yield something from it. He doesn't appear to be as paranoid as she is about someone seeing them go into his room together. When she turns her head from one side to the other to keep a lookout, he stares ahead and keeps pulling her down the hallway.

It isn't until the door is shut and locked behind them that she can finally let out the breath she's been holding since she realized where he was taking them. Before she can say a single word to him, he grabs her by the face and rushes forward to kiss her.

Y/N melts into the warmth of the hard, muscular body pressing into hers and reaches out to brace her hands on his biceps as she stumbles back a step from the impact of him crashing into her. Amidst the sudden arousal sparked by kissing him, their parted lips press hard into one another's in a dance for dominance that leaves them both breathless.

As soon as they pull apart, she's reaching for the band of his pants hidden beneath his robes, but he doesn't let her. Her hand is stopped short in its tracks and held in an invisible hand that keeps her from palming his cock through his pants as she planned on doing. Their lips part with the wet smacking sound, and he shakes his head against hers.

"You're bleeding," Anakin says as an explanation for the abrupt rejection that leaves her chasing after his lips as he withdraws from her.

She shakes her head and looks up at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"It doesn't hurt."

A lie, of course, and not one she pretends to think fooled him in any capacity.

Playing along, he furrows his brows and allows the side of his mouth to upturn in a smirk. "Oh, it doesn't hurt?" he asks, reaching down to gently squeeze her injured thigh.

The sudden pain that pulses through her leg makes her body jerk against him, drawing a stifled grunt from her lips. As soon as he lets go, she's already smacking him on the arm and calling him every bad name in the book for pulling that little stunt.

"That was mean!" she whines and tries to twist her way out of his grasp, but he holds on tightly to her.

He says through a soft chuckle, "Well if you just behave and let me help you, I won't have to be mean."

At first, she huffs in annoyance, prepared to roll her eyes at him as she's grown accustomed to doing whenever he teases her now that she's grown out of wanting to please him all the time. Then, she takes note of how the cut, already cauterized from the weapon that made it, stings since he put pressure on it. There's a fresh spot of blood blooming on her pant leg, and she can't find it in herself to refuse his help.

Ever the obedient apprentice, Y/N says, "Yes, master," and walks past him in pursuit of the bedroom that is visible from where they stand.

It's difficult for Anakin to repress the noise that longs to escape him at the sound of her calling him that. She may not know the extent of what it does to him yet, but on some level, she must know that it turns him on. As wrong as it may be, he hasn't been able to withstand her calling him that for months. The shame he felt every time his cock twitched in his pants at the sound of it was too great to measure, but it wasn't enough to keep him from arousal.

He takes his time in gathering what he needs before meeting her in his bedroom.

Everything is stowed away in a designated cupboard for instances where he returns to his rooms with a scrape or cut, but he can sense that she's seconds from bursting with anticipation, so he draws it out for the sake of allowing her to suffer for a moment.

When he walks in, he takes one glance at her and simply says, "In here," then disappears into the adjoining bathroom she had yet to notice.

She smiles to herself and follows along right away. Through the opening in the door, she can see him at the counter, laying down the supplies he gathered and pretending like he's not paying attention to her even though they both know he is. The light in the small room is warm. The orange-yellow tone of it brings out the lighter undertones of his hair, and she can't help but reach up to brush it back from his face.

Anakin goes still for a split-second, then leans into where her hand makes contact with the side of his head in a movement so slight, she questions whether or not she actually saw it.

His gloved cybernetic hand pats the open counter space once.

"Up," he commands.

Obviously, he doesn't expect her to do it herself with the cut running up the side of her thigh, so once she puts her hands on the countertop for support, he takes it upon himself to grab her on the underside of her thighs, careful to stay away from her wound, and hoist her up onto the counter.

The silence is overwhelming on its own, but with the natural tension that always spikes whenever they're alone together added to it, she can hardly breathe. He makes quick work of her pants and shimmies them down her hips with little effort. The contact of the fabric brushing against the open, bloody skin causes her to wince, but he's quick to murmur an apology. Other than what he did in his bedroom to test the honesty of her claim, he'd never do anything to hurt her. At least, not on purpose.

She watches him dampen a washcloth with warm, soapy water and kneel down in front of her, then braces herself for when it'll make contact with the laceration. To give credit where it's due, she only flinches a tiny bit as he wipes down the length of her thigh.

After another moment of this, she finally summons the courage to ask the burning question she's had since the night they spent in the city together.

"Are we ever going to talk about what we did?"

This halts his movements for a second. The hand using holding the soapy rag moves from her leg to toss it into the sink, then picks up another soaked in water to rinse the soap from her skin. At first, he doesn't answer her question. He just squeezes the water out of the cloth and allows it to wash the mixture of blood and soap from her thigh. It takes a few seconds of hesitation for him to acknowledge what she said.

He looks up at her, and, suddenly, every fear she had that it was a one-time thing, that he used his power over her for sexual gratification, is blown away like dust in the wind. His eyes are soft when looking at her. So unlike the cruel, steely-eyed glare she watched him give Dooku when she was hit by his lightsaber.

Anakin tosses the soiled cloth into the sink alongside the first one and reaches for the gauze pads he unwrapped before she came in.

"You're ready to talk about it?" he asks with an undercurrent of skepticism.

What he doesn't say—what she can feel through the force as well as the powerful connection they've developed—is that if she is ready to have that conversation, there's no going back. He kept himself at bay for far too long, and if she wants him the way he wants her, he's prepared to risk everything for it. That's the thing about Anakin. He lives in extremes, and now that she has become the target of his fixations, there's nothing he wouldn't do for her.

She nods.

In the silence that follows, she's left to assume that he's offering her the chance to speak first lest his assumption as to where this is headed ends up being wrong. He busies himself for the time being by pressing the gauze pads down onto her wound with harsh pressure to keep her from bleeding anymore, and reaches for the medical tape to secure them in place.

"I liked it..." Y/N says softly. "But"—his chest stops moving up and down at the use of the word—"what if they find out? We've been taught that attachments are bad, but, every time I'm with you, I can't help but wonder how it could be so inherently bad if it feels so right."

Her thigh is lifted from the countertop under guidance from his gloved hand as the other wraps her wound, packed with gauze, with a bandage to keep everything in place. Still, he has yet to look at her again. His eyes are fixed on her injured thigh with an intensity that would frighten many, but not her. Never her. Without a second to spare, he finishes wrapping her thigh and looks up at her from between her legs.

He shakes his head, the sharp motion of it toeing the line of being neurotic, and he slides his flesh hand up the length of her unharmed thigh. It comes to a stop at her hip, teasing the edge of her undergarments.

"You know, they're not always right about everything," Anakin says. His pointer finger slides until it reaches the band of the thin fabric separating his touch from where she wants it most. During this, his gaze never leaves her face. "They'll never need to know about us. We're alone together all the time and nobody questions it because it's for the sake of your training. The council doesn't think anything of it." His mouth curves up at the end again in one of those terribly charming half-smiles that weakens her knees. The tone of his voice turns soft, yet deadly serious when he says, "I'll protect you if it comes to that."

Not missing a beat, she counters, "I don't need your protection."

He huffs a laugh at this.

"I know that. You're powerful. That's why they put us together." He reaches up with his gloved hand to take hold of the opposite side of her underwear, a signal for her to lift her hips off the counter. A signal she complies with without thought. "I just meant that, together, they can't stop us from doing what we want." His eyes soften as he slips the garment off around her ankles. "From being with who we want." A beat of silence. His soft lips press into the inside of her thigh, inching up and up and up all while he keeps eye contact..."They can try but they won't take you from me."

At last, when his head is nudging her thighs further apart and his lips brush the pulsing heat that lies between them, he senses her surrender.

Y/N's head tips back, mouth falling open with a quiet moan, when he licks into her. The arousal is sticky where it coats his lips and chin, and he can't help but hum in approval of the distinct scent and taste of her that overwhelms his senses. This was something he didn't get the chance to do in that questionable back room at the bar. It wasn't as if he didn't prepare her for it, he warmed her up with his fingers, but it wasn't exactly the kind of place he wanted to do this at. He didn't want anyone else to see her undressed. Seeing that her robes covered her the whole time, he didn't have to worry about it that night.

It starts out as gentle, tentative licks that circle her clit without giving it as much attention as she wants. He works her up to it slowly, as if to taunt her, and it isn't until her fingers begin to tug at the strands of his overgrown hair that he gives in. Her hips jerk forward against his face instinctively when he wraps his lips around her clit and sucks hard for the sake of drawing a noise out of her. Of course, he gets what he wants. The heavenly sound she makes has his cock straining against the confines of his pants, and there's nothing he can do to satisfy it unless he resorts to rutting up against the cabinets beneath the sink.

Every breath she exhales becomes shakier as the seconds pass with his head buried between her thighs.

"M-Master," she whines, unsure of whether or not it's appropriate to use his name yet. She's only ever called him by his first name when the situation at hand causes her to forget her place. Considering that he's currently going down on her, he'd say that they're well past the point of such formalities, but he also likes that there's still a touch of obedience left in her. "That feels so good..."

His lips leave her clit for a second to allow him to dip his tongue into her entrance to get a better taste of her. Both of his hands are now gripping her hips to keep them in place as he ruins his apprentice with little regret or guilt left to flow through him. Past the point of no return, he no longer clings to his last scraps of morality in regard to his strange relationship with her. In the days following their secret tryst, he was trapped in a strange internal debate. He was torn between duty and love, caught between unstable moods that caused him to become hot and cold with her depending on whose company they were in. Whenever Obi-Wan was near, he couldn't allow himself to interact with her as he typically does. He didn't know if he could control himself.

The hand wrapped up in his honey-hued hair tugs on it once, and he just assumes it's because of what he's doing to her. A second later, she's pulling again, but it's harder, as though she's trying to get his attention. When he pulls his mouth away from her and looks up, her other hand reaches down to cradle his face. It guides him up and up and up until they're face to face again, and she kisses him once before speaking into the small space left between them.

"I want you," she whispers with her forehead pressed to his.

Anakin smiles and nudges her nose with his.

"You have me."

When they kiss again, she moans at the taste of herself covering the lips pressed to hers as well as the tongue that gently licks into her mouth. The fingers twirling the loose curls of hair at the back of his neck use their position to keep him trapped in the hot, open-mouthed kiss with her. There are no objections on his end, of course. If it weren't for their duties as Jedi, he would want to take her far away where no one could ever find them and spend the rest of his days this way.

She says the second she gets the chance, "You know what I mean," in regards to what was said before he distracted her.

To this, he sighs, and it isn't a frustrated sound, nor is it a tired one. It's the way a person sighs when they're placed before something in life that they know is bigger than themselves, resigning themselves to their fate not with reluctance but with acceptance.

"Mmm," he hums, then says, "I know. I just have one condition."

She nods.

"Use my name when we're alone," he whispers.

The request sends her mind reeling as he picks her up from the bathroom counter with her legs clinging around his hips and carries her off into his bedroom. Her arms are flung around his neck in a frantic bid to keep herself from falling, yet all he can do is laugh at her sudden panic. As if he would ever let her fall. His lips press a tender kiss to the warm curve of her neck on the short walk into the room, and that small action makes a world of a difference to her. Every insecurity or fear she had after their first time is assuaged by his honesty and the care he shows for her in everything he does tonight.

Although the door is locked and she knows that Obi-Wan and the others are meeting to discuss what occurred on their mission, he still feels the need to close the door to his room before setting her down on her feet before the end of his bed. All that's left to cover her is her utility belt and tunic, which is already torn at the shoulder leading down to her elbow from the fight that later caused the injury to her thigh.

She stands still and allows him to unfasten the belt from around her waist, although, the contact of his hands brushing her body makes it difficult for her to breathe as calmly and deeply as usual. Despite how familiar they already are with one another in terms of physical intimacy, her face flushes with heat at the idea of him seeing her fully undressed.

With her tunic then lifted from her body and tossed aside, she stands in front of him without anything left to shield herself from his intense gaze. His eyes look her up and down, then come back to settle on her face with an appreciation that causes her stomach to flutter with nerves. The air is cold against her nipples, which harden from both the exposure and the undivided attention being given to her.

He reaches across the space between them to brush his fingertips against her skin, but just when he's about to make contact, she stops him. She grabs his wrist and looks up at him through her lashes defiantly, then smirks at him.

"It's my turn."

He does her the courtesy of undoing the greaves guarding his shins and kicking off his shoes, but, after that, she begins with his utility belt.

It comes loose from his lean waist and is tossed aside onto the floor where he discarded hers in a matter of seconds, but, after that, every move she makes is deliberately slower than the last. She can sense how eager he is. The energy coming off of him practically rattles the room with its commanding presence, and it worsens with every second she draws this torment out. With the belt out of the way, it's easy for her to slip the tabard off of his shoulders. All of the layers would typically frustrate her when taking her clothes off to bathe herself, but it's different now. When undressing Anakin, the tedious nature of it makes everything feel more sensual to her.

Finally, once his overtunic and undertunic are pulled from his torso, she is met with the sight of him bare before her. Well, partly. The dying daylight illuminates him for her, allowing her to admire what she was not able to the first time.

The tips of her fingers graze his skin with a feathery-light touch as she drags them down from the base of his neck down to his abdomen. Beneath them, hard, taut muscle pushes back against the gentle pressure they exert. And she finds, as she allows herself to inspect him further as though he's a miraculous species wholly unknown to her, that she quite enjoys the way his stomach flinches inward in anticipation when she reaches the waistband of his loose-fitting pants.

As her right hand works at undoing his pants, the left reaches for the glove covering his cybernetic arm. Finger by finger, she tugs it away until she's able to slip it off of him and let it fall to the floor with the rest of his clothes. When she looks up from where the fake hand rests at his side, she finds him staring at her as though he's trying to analyze every thought that crosses her mind now that he's the one put in a position of vulnerability.

Y/N's hands brace against his shoulders now, and she stares right back at him without fear. The hand that just slipped his glove off of his arm creeps up his neck until it's cupping the side of his head. All the while, he's still watching her. Even as she runs her thumb along the length of the scar that cuts through his eyebrow down to the top of his right cheekbone.

Their lips are a hair's breadth apart now, so close that they can feel the heat of one another's exhales hitting their faces, and when Anakin dips his head down to kiss her again for the first time in what feels like (two minutes) an eternity, she's quick to jerk her head back enough to keep it from happening.

"I'm not done yet," she whispers, their lips brushing with every word. "You had your fun, now let me have mine."

His head shakes. Just once.

Anakin murmurs, "I need you," and there's a small part of him that knows how pathetic he must appear to her right now, clinging onto her by the curve of her waist and desperately trying to connect their mouths in a kiss, but he doesn't care. There's a rosy blush spread across his face extending to his ears, yes, but there's something about her that sets him at ease. He may feel shy about it, but it doesn't stop him from using his grip on her waist to press her body closer to his and say softly, "Please."

Oh, the things that hearing him beg does to her...

At this point, she can't help herself. There's nothing she can do to stop her from pouncing on him as she does the second she hears him utter that word, tossing her arms around his broad shoulders and jumping to wrap her legs around his hip. He intercepts her unexpected actions with a grace very few others could have, but, with their connection, he has a way of anticipating what she says and does before it happens.

He grabs hold of her thighs without thinking of the injury she sustained battling Dooku, then immediately murmurs an apology once he senses her pain and hears her wince into his mouth as he walks her back toward the bed.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," he whispers, kissing her once, twice, three times. "Are you okay?"

Where her face is pressed up against his, he feels her nod and takes that as his cue to set her down atop the sheets that he left unmade and twisted upon waking in the early hours of the morning the day they left. The sun, the light that had illuminated his half-naked body to her a moment ago, is beginning to slip partway below the horizon and washes the sky gold in its absence. That fading light shines in through the windows and creates a hazy glow around her, and, for a second, he thinks she might be an angel.

Both of their hands frantically scramble to push his undone pants down, along with his undergarments, as he climbs onto the bed after her. They're kicked from where they fall around his ankles before he settles himself between her eagerly spread thighs. Neither of them can bear to wait any longer, so the second he gets within arm's reach of her, she grabs him by his biceps and tries to pull him up to meet her faster.

The soft palm of her hand grazes down the length of his chest once again, but, this time, there's nothing left to prevent her from touching him. Her forehead is pressed to his, her chin tilted down, and she watches her hand wrap around his thick cock to guide him to her entrance. She pumps her closed fist around him a few times with her thumb brushing over his leaking tip just for the sake of hearing his breath hitch in his throat from it.

There's no need to get it over with quickly seeing that Obi-Wan reporting to the council about their mission will likely take up to an hour, but, the thing is, they both know they don't have the patience to make it last. They're both too rash and antsy when it comes to one another after days of avoidance, and she thinks she may die if she doesn't have him right now. Everything with Anakin feels natural. It feels like this is where she's meant to be and exactly what they're meant to be doing together. She may not have known it until recently but there has always been that thread connecting them. From the beginning, it was there. It was only a matter of time before one of them tugged on it.

She can hardly string together a sentence once she feels the broad tip of him pushing into her, "Oh"—her nails dig into his arms hard enough to break the skin and continue to apply more pressure as he sinks into her—"Anakin..."

Her bottom lip is bitten between her teeth at the feeling of him buried inside of her, so deep that she can feel the bony prominence of his hip bones pressing into the soft flesh of her thighs. And she knows it's affecting him just as much from how his metal hand squeezed her hip hard enough to leave finger-shaped indents behind on her skin. Although she's ready for him to move, she can tell that he's waiting for himself to be ready. His eyes are fluttered shut, forehead pressed to hers, and she can tell he's trying not to let himself be overcome by how good it feels.

What he said to her days ago at the bar wasn't a lie, he has done this multiple times before, but it's never too often. It was only a means to an end, a way to satisfy the urge he felt guilt and shame for having in the first place. This is different than those other times for him. Seeing that it's her he's doing this with, he can hardly control himself and refrain from spending in her in the span of a moment much like he did the first time he had sex.

After a moment has passed and his breathing has turned deep and even, she whispers, nudging his nose with hers, "Look at me."

The second she says it, he obeys, and she didn't expect to find him being to her will to be so...alluring. As her master, he's the one who typically commands. She is the one who listens, who serves, who obeys, but, right now, everything is backward. Anakin looks down at her for guidance with the same hunger and desire as before but softened around the edges.

His hair is soft to the touch when her fingers play with it, and she uses her grip on his scalp to pull his lips down to hers.

"Fuck me," she murmurs into his mouth as they engage in a lazy kiss. Her hips press up into his in a silent urging for him to move that he listens to immediately with a tentative thrust.

His arms cage her in on either side of her head as he licks into her mouth with his tongue and starts to fuck into her at a relaxed pace. Still, even with how slow and tender it may be, she feels him so deep inside of her, she wonders if she could feel him there if she pressed her palm flat against the bottom of her stomach. The languid undulations of his hips guiding his cock in and out of her builds on the pleasure he had given her earlier.

Last time, it had been painful when he first entered her, but, this time, there was only a slight sense of pressure, if being overwhelmed, that gave way to the pleasant feeling she found toward the end of their first intimate encounter. Even when she found it somewhat uncomfortable at the beginning, she still wanted it for the sake of being close to him. Of being the one to make him feel good. And now that it feels good almost straight away, she is overwhelmed with how badly she wants him. Nothing is ever going to be enough for her, is it? Even as they're kissing and fucking and grabbing at one another in a frenzy of need, she still wants more of him.

One of her hands slides down the length of his body and grabs his hip to guide him into a faster pace with every thrust.

"Just like that," she says between panting breaths.

The words of praise cause his face to flush for what feels like the tenth time since they retreated to the privacy of his rooms, and it doesn't go unnoticed by her. Despite the fact that he holds power over her as her master, she senses his desire for her to take control and take care of him. To treat him with the reverence and praise he is so scarcely granted anywhere else in his life. So, she takes control. He may have the physical advantage with his considerable strength and position on top of her, but only a fool would think he's the one in power here. The second she told him to look at her, he willingly gave it up.

Her other hand, the one that isn't holding onto his hip, comes up to card through the long tufts of hair on the back of his head. She pulls it taut from his scalp to maneuver his face away, creating a short distance that allows them to stare into each other's eyes as they're both overcome with the sensation of it all. His brows pinch together a little at the feeling of her tight walls squeezing down around him on the upstroke of his thrusts as though she's trying to push him closer to the precipice he refuses to fall from without bringing her along with him. It doesn't feel like he's the experienced one here even though he's been doing this much longer than her. It almost makes him scoff. He should've known that she'd take to this quickly just as she does with everything else. His smart girl.

"Fuck," Anakin curses under his breath and truly starts to throw himself into it now. "You feel"—his sentence starts and stops before he can string it together, so he abandons it altogether in favor of spewing the first, most vulnerable thought that springs to mind—"Promise you'll never leave me."

If she's being honest, the unrestrained honesty in his request addles her brain far more than the sex itself. However, it doesn't scare her away as he fears it will. Maybe it's a little sick, but she likes how desperate he is for her. How could she not enjoy the simple truth that she is the only one who can bring the great Anakin Skywalker to his knees? It's a beautiful thing to see him in such a state of mindless bliss.

Her arms twine around his waist in a tight embrace to bring their bodies closer than they already are somehow, and when she opens her mouth to speak, she's interrupted by a moan that leaves her suddenly at the feeling of him hitting a sweet spot inside of her. When she pulled him down onto her until their bodies were flush, it adjusts the angle of his thrust and puts delightful pressure on her clit with his pubic bone. After taking a second to relish in the sensation, she looks up at him through heavy-lidded eyes and lifts her head up from the mattress to kiss him.

She murmurs into his open mouth, "I won't." The next thrust he makes into her is significantly harder than the rest have been in reaction. "I'll never leave you, Ani. I promise."

The sound he makes in response almost pushes her over the edge. It's somewhere caught between a moan and a whine, a thrilling noise that makes her tense around him once more and writhe beneath the weight of his body pinning her to the bed. A familiar tension stirs in the pit of her abdomen now. It crescendos into territory where the stimulation almost becomes unbearable, begging to explode as it did the last time in an earth-shattering climax that left her limp and incoherent in his arms.

Since he can sense how close she's getting, he doesn't change anything. He pulls back as much as he can without shifting the position and watches her in utter fascination. It's the little things that get him—how her nose scrunches a little when it starts to get to be too much, the way she looks up at him like she's in a daze, and how his name sounds coming from her pretty, kiss-swollen lips. They shine in the dim light from a mixture of their saliva, and he can't resist the urge to lean down to connect them with his again.

And this makes her smile. Everything about it makes her radiate joy, an emotion he can feel her projecting onto him without trying to shield it. Like him, she adores the little things—how his hair tickles her forehead the whole time, the sound of his moans, and how he never eases his grip on her as though he's afraid she'll disappear in the event that he lets go. On top of that, she likes how warm he is. She's come to realize over the past week that Anakin is the human embodiment of a furnace. Every time he pulls her near, she takes comfort in the heat that comes from his body, and, as of the current moment, she loves it.

His skin is hot to the touch where it meets hers, covered in a thin sheen of perspiration that greets her tongue with a salty taste when she dips her face into his neck to kiss him there. Her teeth nip at his skin and leave a faint mark behind that they both know will be hidden by his clothes later. With her nearing climax, she can't do much other than claw at his upper back and try to stifle the sounds she's making in case anyone is nearby.

Her lips stop moving against his neck, not because she'd ever want to stop kissing him, but because she can't function beyond the mindless bucking of their hips and the slack-jawed sounds she lets out. Her head thumps back onto the bed without a sound, back arching up against him, and her legs constrict around his hips to prevent him from going anywhere but closer.

As for Anakin, nothing could rile him up the way she does. Every stroke inside of her collapses any shred of sense and logic left in him, leaving behind just the primal urges that currently guide him.

Knowing how close she is, Y/N asks with her face pressed to his, leaning into the role he inadvertently pushed her into, "Are gonna be good for me?"

Even through the hazy state of mind he's in, he finds a way to nod when she asks him this. He's so far gone that he isn't sure he can form the words to verbally respond to her. All he knows is that she's here. She's here, and she's caring for him, and she promised she'd never leave. That's the sole thing occupying his mind as she offers him a sweet smile and plays with his hair the way she knows he likes.

"That's right," she says softly, then pauses for a second to stifle a moan. His frantic pursuit of their respective orgasms leaves them both trembling in each other's arms while she tries to maintain enough composure to speak to him through it. Every time he slams his hips down into hers, sheathing his cock in her sodden cunt and hitting that sweet spot without fail, she can almost feel the relief that's soon to find her. "I don't know what you would've done if you weren't my master"—his cybernetic hand grips her throat with enough pressure to use it as leverage but not to prevent her from speaking—"How long have you been waiting for me, Ani?"

Despite his previous assumption that he no longer had the ability to speak, he responds instantly between his panting breaths, "My whole life—"

His words are cut off by the downright pornographic display that is her orgasm. It comes on suddenly, without a warning for him to prepare himself, and he groans at how tight she becomes through the intense peaks that reduce her to a tensing, shaking mess beneath him. It is somehow twice as intense as the one given to her in that seedy bar he escorted her to last week. It wouldn't surprise her if she makes him bleed with how harshly her nails dig into his flesh, but that's far beneath her at this point. The pleasure wipes her mind clean of everything but him. In her head, she hears it like a prayer over and over and over again—Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.

Her master—who is now pounding into her and keeping her pinned to his mattress with his body weight throughout her climax. He fucks her through every second of it, prolonging the all-consuming pleasure far longer than it ever lasts when she touches herself.

Then, something new happens.

Just at the end of her climax as she begins to feel it recede as it always does, she thinks she feels another coming on. This has never happened to her before in her limited experience. Most of the time, touching herself is a quick affair before she fell asleep that felt good, but it wasn't anything like this. She can sense that it surprises him too when he feels her tight walls spasming around his cock for the second time in a row, and this is all it takes to push him over the edge.

Anakin clings to her as though she is the only thing tethering him to this planet, stilling inside of her with a low moan as she watches him come apart for her. She already thought he was beautiful before, but, fuck, he's utterly divine like this. He has always been above the others in her eyes, not only as a Jedi but as a person—a deity for her to worship and learn from as his Padawan. But, now that worship is intensified by what she sees, hears, and feels when he comes. The hand around her neck squeezes hard enough to keep her from taking in air.

Her head is tilted back against the mattress, her jaw slack, and her back arches up, pressing her bare breasts against the toned musculature of his chest that clenches throughout his orgasm. She can feel him throbbing inside her with every spurt of his release that floods and spills out of her at the base of his cock.

Even after half a moment passes, they both remain like this without moving despite how the sensitivity causes them to tremble. Her chest falls when his rises in a push and pull much like that of the tides as they pant for air. He keeps his face buried in her neck the entire time and doesn't retreat from the hiding spot until he feels her hand tracing up and down the length of his spine absentmindedly. It wakes him from the post-orgasmic haze and forces him to remember that, although they have some time to themselves, they have to meet with Obi-Wan shortly after he's finished reporting to the council.

Still, he doesn't pull out of her yet.

He asks instead, not wanting it to end, "Can we stay like this for a minute?" and sighs in relief when she mutters back a quick word of approval.

She keeps her arms wrapped around his chest to trap him in her embrace and continues to rub up and down his sweat-slick back in a soothing pattern. It almost causes his eyes to close and submit to the alluring gravitational pull of sleep that longs to drag him under. With the clarity of her thoughts returning, she can't ignore the worries that come to mind in regard to how they'll manage to hide this from the others.

Without her even having to voice these worries aloud, Anakin pulls his face from her neck and brushes her hair from her face with his flesh hand, looking down upon her with a tender gaze.

"It'll be okay," he says softly, and, for a second, she thinks she believes him. She thinks she'd believe anything he says for the next few moments. "They'll never know. Even if they end up suspecting it, there won't be a way to prove it."

She asks, face twisted with concern, "Are you sure?" and, suddenly, they're pushed back into their natural roles with her looking to him, someone she considers far wiser, for guidance and reassurance.

Though there's a slight smile, though the adoration for her remains present in his expression, there's a flicker of darkness in his gaze, and his arms tighten around her waist seemingly in response to it. As he had when they were writhing together in pleasure not long ago, he holds onto her as though someone or something will come along to take her from his possession the second he eases his hold on her. Those pretty blue eyes never once stray from hers.

Anakin keeps the side of her head cupped in one of his hands and says, "Nothing will ever take you from me."

[misswynters]

The Bastard Daughter

Davos/Benjicot Blackwood x fem!reader

[ SYNOPSIS: You were born the bastard daughter of Prince daemon, and the elder half sister to baela and rhaena. Once you got married to your betrothed, Benjicot, you took your little brother, whom you shared a mom, with you. Aerys is ten years younger than you, however you raised him since he was a babe. Due to your mother, Lysa Tully, dying in childbirth.

[ WARNING: almost kidnapping, non-canon character death, mentions of blood, stabbing, kinda sloppy writing…

[ REQUESTED: by anonymous

The halls of Raventree Hall bustle with activity as preparations for the upcoming journey to Dragonstone are in full swing. You walk briskly through the corridors, your mind occupied with the heavy responsibilities placed upon your shoulders. As the recognized bastard daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen, you have always been aware of the weight your lineage carries. Riding the wild dragon, Cannibal, only adds to the mystique and danger that surrounds you. But today, it is your duty as a mother and sister that weighs most heavily on your heart.

Benjicot Blackwood, your husband and the Lord of Raventree Hall, is in the courtyard, overseeing the preparations. His tall figure, with dark hair and a stern expression, exudes a sense of authority and protectiveness that has always comforted you. When he catches sight of you, his eyes soften, and he approaches you with a reassuring smile.

"Everything is almost ready," Benjicot says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Are you sure about this?"

You nod, though a knot of worry sits in your stomach. "Rhaenyra has asked us to send our son and my brother to the Vale with her own sons. They will be safer there, with their dragons."

Benjicot frowns slightly but nods. "If this is what you believe is best, then we will do it. They will be safe, I promise you that."

Your son, Eddric, and your younger brother, Aerys, are playing nearby, their laughter a small comfort amidst the tension. The younger one, Eddric was six years his junior. However both boys are strong and brave, with the fierce spirit of their Targaryen bloodline, but they are still young.

As the day progresses, you make your way to Dragonstone. The sight of the imposing fortress fills you with a mix of awe and apprehension. You know that not everyone will welcome your presence or the presence of your brother and son. Baela and Rhaena, in particular, have never hidden their disdain for you and Aenys.

Upon arriving, you are greeted by Rhaenyra herself. Her warm smile is a balm to your nerves. "Thank you for coming," she says. "As you know we must ensure the safety of our children."

You exchange polite greetings before making your way inside. As expected, Baela and Rhaena are there, their expressions hardening when they see you. The tension is palpable as you introduce Eddric and Aerys to Rhaenyra’s sons, Jacaerys and Joffrey.

"The Vale is no place for these boys," Baela says sharply, her gaze fixed on you. "They are meaningless, having no worth.”

Rhaena hesitantly nods in agreement. "We cannot risk our lives for them."

You step forward, your chin held high. "They are targaryens, just like the rest of us. They have a right to be part of this."

Before the argument can escalate further, Benjicot steps in, his presence commanding the room. "These boys are my family," he says firmly. "I have raised them, protected them, and I will not allow anyone to speak against their place here."

Baela glares at him. "This is not about you, Benjicot. It is about their safety."

Benjicot’s eyes flash with anger. "And I say they will be safe in the Vale. We also have dragons."

The room falls silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. Rhaenyra steps forward, placing a calming hand on Baela's arm. "We must trust in each other," she says softly. "Our family will be stronger together."

Reluctantly, Baela and Rhaena nod, though their expressions remain tight. You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief.

As the preparations continue, you find a moment alone with Benjicot. He takes your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "Don’t pay mind to them" he says quietly. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief.

The following day, the courtyard is a hive of activity as the handmaidens, servants and riders prepare for the journey. Cannibal, your imposing dragon, stands apart everyone, his dark scales absorbing the morning sunlight. Eddric and Aerys are wide-eyed with excitement and nervousness, as the elder of the two clasped his hands onto the reins of his dragon. Your son then made his way towards his father.

You walked towards aerys and kneeled before him, smoothing his unruly hair. "Stay close," you instruct him. "And listen to Benjicot and me at all times."

Aenys nods solemnly, his face set with determination. "I will, sister."

Eddric, standing beside his father, looks towards at him. "Will you fly like mother?"

Benjicot smiles, ruffling Eddric’s hair. "Sadly i cannot my brave boy. We will be riding the carriage together."

As you mounted cannibal, you watched as aerys soared through the sky following behind, the wind whipping through your hair. The journey to the Vale is long and arduous, but the sight of the mountains and the Eyrie in the distance fills you with a sense of purpose. Aerys, riding his dragon, was a sight to behold, his youthful enthusiasm blending with the raw power of his mounts. You smiled with pride as his older sister.

Upon arrival, you are greeted by Lady Jeyne Arryn, who welcomes you warmly. The Eyrie, perched high in the mountains, feels like a safe haven amidst the chaos of the realm. The children quickly settle into their new surroundings, as the dragons roosting nearby.

A few days have passed, and the children begin their training in earnest. Under Benjicot’s watchful eye, they practice their swordsmanship and horse riding, their skills improving with each passing day. You spend your time teaching them the history and traditions of House Targaryen, ensuring they understand the legacy they are a part of.

That evening, as the sun sets over the mountains, you find a moment alone with Benjicot. You stand together on a balcony, overlooking the Vale. The sight is breathtaking, but your thoughts are heavy with the weight of your responsibilities.

Benjicot takes your hand, his touch grounding you. "You’ve done well," he says softly. "Aerys and Eddric are safe, and they are learning. You should be proud."

You sigh, leaning into him. "I am proud, but I worry. The realm is in turmoil, and our family is scattered."

Benjicot’s grip tightens on your hand. "With time, we shall be together again. Your family and mine are strong, and we will fearlessly protect each other."

His words are a comfort, and you find strength in his unwavering support. Together, you watch the sunset, the promise of a new day bringing hope.

Tensions remain high between you and Baela and Rhaena. Despite Rhaenyra’s efforts to mediate, old wounds run deep. One afternoon, as you are helping Aerys with his dragon, you overhear Baela speaking with Rhaena.

"They don’t belong here," Baela says, her voice sharp. "They are not true Targaryens."

You feel a surge of anger but force yourself to remain calm. Stepping forward, you address Baela directly. "We are as much Targaryens as you. Our blood is the same, and we have the right to be here."

Baela’s eyes narrow. "Your mother was not a princess. You are a bastard."

“But she was noble, even so… share the same father Baela,” You told her as you rubbed your forehead due to stress. Benjicot steps in, his presence a wall of protection. "Enough," he says, his voice cold. "This bickering helps no one. We are here to prepare for the future. We need to stand as a family."

Baela looks ready to argue, but Rhaena places a hand on her arm, silently urging her to back down. With a huff, Baela turns and stalks away, leaving you and Benjicot standing together.

You turn to Benjicot, your heart heavy. "Thank you," you say quietly. "I don’t know what I would do without you." He pulls you into an embrace, his strength and warmth enveloping you.

The days turn into weeks, a sense of routine settles over the Eyrie. The children continue their training, and the bonds between them grow stronger. The hostility from Baela and Rhaena lessens, though it never fully disappears.

As you gather for dinner, Jeyne makes an announcement. "I have received word from Dragonstone. We must prepare for a council meeting. Our presence is requested by the queen to discuss the future of the realm." The news sends a ripple of tension through the room. You exchange a glance with Benjicot, knowing that this council meeting could change everything.

However journey back is fraught with anticipation. Cannibal is flying in a calm but steady manner. Upon arriving at the Dragonstone, you are struck by the gravity of the situation. The council chamber is filled with lords, their faces a mix of hope and fear.

Rhaenyra takes her place at the head of the table, her presence commanding respect. As discussions begin, it becomes clear that the realm is on the brink of war. Alliances must be forged, and plans must be made. When it is your turn to speak, you step forward, your voice steady.

"My husband and I have brought our family and dragons to support the cause," you say. "We stand with Rhaenyra, and we will fight for the future of the realm."

Your words are met with murmurs of approval, and you feel a sense of pride and determination. As the council meeting continues, you steal a glance at your husband. Benjicot meets your gaze, a small smile playing on his lips.

After the council meeting concluded, you flew ahead back to the Eyrie. It The moon hangs high in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the imposing structure of the Eyrie. All is quiet as the inhabitants of the castle sleep, unaware of the danger creeping closer. In the children's chambers, Eddric and Aenys sleep soundly, the fatigue from their rigorous training finally taking its toll.

Suddenly, a faint sound disturbs the silence – the creak of a door opening. Shadows slip into the room, figures cloaked in darkness, moving with the practiced stealth of seasoned kidnappers. They are after the children, seeking to exploit their value as dragon riders and Targaryen blood.

Aerys stirs, sensing the intruders, but before he can fully wake, a rough hand clamps over his mouth. His eyes fly open in terror, and he struggles futilely against his captor. Eddric is also grabbed, his startled cry muffled as he is lifted from his bed.

The kidnappers move quickly, their actions rehearsed and precise. They bind the boys' hands and gag them to prevent any cries for help. The children are carried through the darkened halls, the intruders avoiding patrols and sentries with an eerie familiarity of the castle’s layout.

In the courtyard, the kidnappers approach their hidden escape route. The dragons, knowing their companions are in danger, begin to stir restlessly in their nearby roosts. The beasts' low growls and shifting shapes go unnoticed by the kidnappers, who are focused solely on their escape.

One of the dragons, Cannibal, is particularly sensitive to the distress of its riders. The ancient, fearsome beast senses the peril its bonded humans face and lets out a thunderous roar that echoes through the mountains, shaking the very stones of the Eyrie.

The roar rouses you and Benjicot from your sleep. You leap from bed, your heart pounding with dread. "The boys!" you exclaim, already moving toward the door. Benjicot is right behind you, his face a mask of determination and fury.

Rushing into the courtyard, you are met with chaos. Dragons are roaring, their eyes glowing with rage, and guards are scrambling to understand the source of the commotion. You spot the kidnappers just as they reach the edge of the courtyard, your children still struggling in their grasp.

"Stop them!" you shout, your voice piercing the night air.

Benjicot draws his sword, his eyes blazing with fury. "Let them go!" he roars, charging toward the kidnappers.

The intruders, realizing they have been discovered, hasten their movements. One of them draws a dagger, pressing it to Aerys throat. "Stay back, or the boy dies!" the kidnapper threatens.

Your heart clenches with fear, but you refuse to back down. "You will not harm them," you declare, stepping forward with a fierce resolve. "Let them go, and you might live."

Cannibal lands heavily behind you, the ground shaking under his weight. The sight of the massive, menacing dragon causes the kidnappers to falter, their courage wavering in the face of such a formidable beast.

Benjicot takes advantage of their hesitation, lunging forward with a swift, precise strike. He disarms the kidnapper holding Aerys, pulling the boy to safety. You rush to Eddric, freeing him from his captor's grasp and shielding him with your body.

The remaining kidnappers, seeing their plan unraveling and the dragons closing in, decide to flee. They sprint toward the forest, abandoning their mission in the face of certain death.

With the danger passed, you hold Eddric and Aerys towards you, your heart still racing. Benjicot stands beside you, his sword at the ready, eyes scanning the surroundings for any remaining threats.

"You’re safe now," you whisper to the boys, trying to soothe their trembling forms. "We won't let anything happen to you."

Benjicot kneels beside you, his expression softening as he looks at the children. "We will always protect you," he promises, his voice firm and reassuring.

Eddric clings to you, his voice shaking. "They were going to take us away," he says, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Aerys, though shaken, lifts his chin defiantly. "We’re not afraid," he declares, his young voice filled with the courage of his Targaryen heritage. "We have dragons."

You and Benjicot exchange a look of profound relief, as the boy . Despite the terror of the night, the four of you had emerged stronger through fear.

The day came to a close and it was the next morning, a beautiful crisp autumn day at the Eyrie, the air filled with the rustle of leaves and the distant roars of dragons. You watch Aerys and Eddric from a distance as they train, their laughter and determination a constant source of joy.

The boys have become inseparable, their friendship growing stronger with each passing day. Suddenly, a commotion erupts near the main gate. You see a group of strangers, dressed in dark cloaks, pushing their way through the guards.

Your heart races as you recognized the danger. The attackers move swiftly, drawing swords and pushing past the guards with brutal efficiency.

"Stay here!" you shout to Eddric, who is standing frozen in shock. You run towards Aerys, who is closer to the intruders, your mind racing with fear.

Before you can reach him, one of the attackers grabs Aerys. The boy struggles, his fists pounding against the assailant. "Let me go!" Aerys screams, his voice filled with terror. The boy then grabbed tried to grab his dagger to stab his attacker on the leg. However it wasn’t enough.

You draw your sword and charge at the attacker, your heart pounding in your chest. But before you can reach them, the man uses the boys dagger and plunges it into Aerys chest.

"No!" you scream, your voice breaking as you watch your brother collapse to the ground.

You reach Aerys side, dropping to your knees and cradling him in your arms. His eyes are wide with pain and fear, blood staining his tunic.

"Aerys, stay with me," you plead, tears streaming down your face. "Please, don't leave me."

Aerys's hand reaches up to touch your face, his fingers trembling. "I... I'm scared," he whispers, his voice barely audible.

"I know, little brother. I know," you say, your voice breaking. "I'm here. I love you."

Aerys's eyes flutter closed, and his hand falls away. You hold him close, your heart shattered as you realize he's gone.

The courtyard is silent, the attackers having fled. Benjicot arrives, his face pale with shock as he takes in the scene. He drops to his knees beside you, his hand on your shoulder.

"We'll find them," he promises, his voice rough with grief and rage. "We'll make them pay for this."

But his words bring little comfort. The loss of Aerys is a wound too deep to heal, a pain that sears through your soul. You hold your brother's lifeless body, your tears falling onto his bloodstained tunic.

The sky is gray and somber as you stand beside Aerys's pyre, your heart heavy with sorrow. The dragons circle overhead, their mournful cries echoing through the mountains. The loss of Aerys has cast a dark shadow over the Eyrie, the grief palpable in the air.

You stand with Benjicot, Eddric by your side, his small hand clutching yours tightly. The boy's face is streaked with tears, his grief a mirror of your own. As the flames consume the pyre, you whisper a silent prayer for Aenys's soul, hoping he finds peace in the afterlife. The pain of his loss is a weight you carry with you, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the cruelty of the world.

The memory of Aerys's laughter, his bravery, and his love will stay with you always. And with Benjicot and Eddric by your side, you vow to honor your brother's memory by protecting them and fighting for the better of the realm.

You couldn’t help but place the blame of your little brothers death on someone, something. Why wasn’t there guards posted at Aerys and Eddrics chambers the night prior. How can two masked assailants just come into the courtyard unseen and unheard until it was too late. You wished you could blame someone, you really did.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @thornsandtulips

[a/n: sorry anon, i killed the readers brother :/, they really said let’s try again

[metalhoops]

The Five Times Eddie Wondered Who His Soulmate Was  and the One Time He Didn’t Have To

1. 

The worst thing about knowing your soulmate was in trouble was understanding there was nothing you could do about it. 

As a whole, Eddie thought the concept of soulmates was bullshit. He thought all that fate and destiny crap was a scam to sell the idea of monogamy or co-dependence. If people were too busy fretting over when they’d meet ‘their person’, they’d forget that actual shit was going on in the world. Who had the time to care about systemic oppression when they were busy trying to work out if the cute girl across the corridor was their one true love? 

That being said, sometimes Eddie got curious about who they were. Not many people found their soulmates. It wasn’t as obvious as you’d think. When they were in pain, you would feel it. Two people could live across the world from one another, feeling each scraped knee and broken wrist but never meet. Hell, you could live across the street from someone and unless you were there to watch them get hurt and feel the same old pang of shared pain, you’d never know. 

It wasn’t like Eddie had never felt his soulmate before that day. They’d twisted an ankle when Eddie was twelve and sprained a wrist when he was fourteen, but he’d felt no pain from them so strong as when he was sitting in detention during his junior year. 

He was counting down the minutes left until he could get out of the high school, hell hole when a sharp and sudden pain flooded his jaw. He gritted his teeth and cradled it with his palm, feeling as though the wind was knocked out of his body. Eddie knew what being punched in the face felt like, and that was it. Just when the ache started to fade, another thud of pain to his cheek made his vision swim. From there, Eddie held his breath, waiting for the pain to end. He rested his head on his desk and felt his heart in his throat as the blows kept coming. 

He missed Mrs Click telling him to go home, too busy gripping the desk for dear life, his fingernails digging into the poorly carved desk graffiti, slicing a line through ‘RB 4 TT.’ He was elated when the pain finally stopped. 

Eddie kept his head down the whole walk home, trying to tell himself soulmates were bullshit, and that he didn’t care about his, but his thoughts kept returning to visions of them. He hoped they were okay. 

Eddie never wanted to know who his soulmate was until that moment. They’d had a hell of a day and Eddie wanted to be there with them, tell them he knew what it was like. He wanted to hold their head in his lap and tell them everything was going to be okay, that if it were up to him, no one would hurt them like that again, but he couldn’t. For all he knew, they could be a hundred miles away. 

2.

The next time it happened, Eddie was at home alone in the trailer. Uncle Wayne was working a night shift, and he was watching a horror movie marathon on the T.V. It was shaping up to be a good night, with him curled up on the couch watching a schlocky creature feature when he felt all the air knocked out of his lungs. 

For a moment, he was worried something horrible was happening to him. When Jeff had appendicitis, he’d reported the same kind of pain. Eddie rolled up the hem of his shirt, watching a black-blue bruise bloom and fade in the span of a second. Sometimes, if the pain was great enough, you’d get what they called an ‘echo’ of the injury. It only lasted a moment, invisible ink fading on pale paper. 

The pain had been so strong that Eddie hadn’t been able to tell if it was theirs or his. From there, it got worse. He felt a sharp pang crash over his head, then another series of blows to the face. It was always the goddamn face.

When it was over, Eddie was left feeling lightheaded. The sensation faded quickly, but he knew his other half would be stuck with the ache for the rest of the night, if not longer. 

There was a lot of conjecture when it came to soulmates. It was hard to conduct scientific studies on something based entirely on sensation, and any research that had been done was less than ethical. All the same, for the rest of the night, Eddie curled his arms around himself, holding his body in the hopes his person could feel it, that he could give them some comfort. 

“I hope you’re okay,” he whispered, burrowing his face into the crook of his elbow. 

Back at school, Eddie floated through the halls feeling less than himself as thoughts of his person swirled. The school was abuzz with rumours of a fight between Billy Hargrove and the former king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington. Eddie couldn’t care less about some pissing contest for the highest rung on the social ladder, as he still felt the echoed ache of his soulmate’s pain throughout the day. 

He ditched gym, opting to hide beneath the bleachers and smoke. To his surprise, he wasn’t the only one with the idea. When he arrived, he found the overthrown king sitting cross-legged, cradling his still-bruised jaw. Eddie wasn’t a fan of the jocks, but they were the biggest contributor to his wallet, so he tried to play civil with them. Plus, Eddie wasn’t one to kick someone when they were down, and boy was Steve down. He sat beside the man, examined his face, and thought for a fleeting second. Maybe he was the one, but that was crazy talk. The Freak and the King. In what world? 

“You look like you’ve had better days,” Eddie noted. 

“I’ve had worse,” Steve replied. Eddie had a pit in his stomach. 

The two lapsed into silence, hiding out until the bell sounded for the end of gym. Eddie gave the boy a half-hearted salute as he stood.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie spoke before he left.

“You okay?”

Steve gave Eddie the ghost of a smile, all charm drowned out by Steve’s two black eyes. 

“I will be.” 

3.

Eddie had been worried about his soulmate before, but he’d never thought he’d lose them until the summer vacation after his failed attempt at senior year. He and the rest of Corroded Coffin had just finished their set at The Hideout. Eddie and the boys were carrying their instruments back to the van when the feeling hit. 

He fell to the asphalt. The whole scene sounded all the more dramatic as the hi-hat he’d been holding fell with him. He really wished his soulmate would learn to keep their head down and stay out of trouble because this was getting ridiculous. He got ready to hunker down and wait it out, having gotten morbidly used to their annual beatings. Only this time the pain didn’t stop. 

He was hit with wave after wave of agony. This time, it wasn’t just the face. He felt blows to his jaw, his stomach, and his side. He also felt a sharp spike of pain in his hand, as though someone was trying to peel his nails from his skin.

He could hear his friends around him, desperately trying to get something coherent out of Eddie, trying to work out if it was soulmate bullshit or if the guy was having an aneurysm. By the way he was acting, either seemed possible. When the pain subsided, Eddie felt foggy, like he was going through the worst goddamn high of his life. The neon signs of The Hideout and the street lamps danced before his eyes. Hundreds of little halos clouded his vision. He couldn’t think straight. 

He managed to prop himself up against the wheel of the van and pulled his knees to his chest. He knotted his hands in his long hair and tugged, trying to remind himself what his own pain felt like, though stopped when he realised he’d also be hurting them. That was the last thing they needed. 

“You okay?” He heard Gareth ask when the world came swimming back into focus. Eddie shook his head. Far from it.  

“Are they okay? Are they... alive?” Eddie hadn’t let himself entertain that idea until it was brought up. 

He felt the last flush of colour drain from his face. He could still feel them, but there was something wrong with the connection. Maybe he was dying. Eddie couldn’t help but think of his soulmate as ‘he’. He just knew. 

Eddie kept trying to tell himself he didn’t care about them, but the fact that he could die without Eddie ever having met him made his heart ache. People thought the reason you felt your person’s pain was to protect them, to know when something was wrong. Eddie had done a bang-up job at that. 

“For now, but it’s weird. I don’t... I don’t know how much longer-,” Eddie didn’t let himself finish. 

The rest of the band suddenly took on a sombre mood. Jeff and Grant finished packing up the van while Gareth offered to drive. The boys stayed at Eddie’s trailer for the rest of the night, holding their breaths and waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Eventually, Eddie dropped off to sleep and when he awoke hours later, he was relieved to realise he hurt all over. He was still alive, still waiting for Eddie to find him and god did Eddie want to. 

His uncle came home at the crack of dawn and let out an elongated sigh of relief at seeing Eddie and his band of merry men curled up together on the living room carpet. Wayne greeted Eddie with a tight hug that still hurt like hell.

“I was worried something happened to you,” His uncle stated in his gravelled tone.

“Why would something have happened to me?” Eddie asked, perplexed. 

“The mall burnt down last night. I was worried you were close by.” 

Eddie shook his head and let his uncle hold him as his mind ticked away. He wondered if it was possible his soulmate was in Hawkins. Eddie wasn’t sure he believed in coincidence.   

4.

Eddie started seeing spots during his lunchtime speech. By the end of his rant, the room had started to tilt. He felt unsure on his feet as he clambered from the top of the jock table to scamper back to the hellfire group. He must look worse for wear because he noticed one of his new recruits watching him.

“Eddie, you good?” Dustin questioned, sounding further away than he should. The lights in the cafeteria were too bright and his head was killing him. 

He felt close to throwing up and wondered where the pain had come from before realising the familiar distance from the sensation. It wasn’t his pain. Eddie didn’t want Henderson to butt into his love life any more than he already did, so he gave the kid a tight-lipped smile that more closely resembled a grimace. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this sensation from his soulmate, but they were growing more frequent.  

Again, sweetheart? Eddie thought, knowing it was the second migraine that week. 

“Migraine,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth. He could feel his band members' eyes on him. They knew exactly who the ache belonged to. 

To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin passed him a cool glass of water and barked orders at Mike, getting the kid to remove the ugly Hawaiian over shirt, before throwing it over Eddie’s head, blocking out the light. It wasn’t Eddie’s pain, so it didn’t help but he could appreciate the sentiment. 

“Did they teach you first aid at science camp, Henderson?” Eddie guessed offhandedly. 

“Nah. Steve gets migraines all the time. Helps to know how to deal with them.”

Eddie would never understand how a kid like Dustin came to know Steve Harrington, let alone worship the ground the guy walked on. Usually, Dustin had such good taste.  

“Eddie’s soulmate gets them too,” Gareth spoke unhelpfully. 

Even without looking, Eddie knew he was shooting him a shit-eating grin, knowing the rest of the afternoon Henderson would ask him about his soulmate. Just because the kid found Suzie, he thought the whole world deserved to find their one true love. Instead, Dustin came out with the most bullshit statement Eddie had ever heard. 

“Maybe Steve’s your soulmate.” 

Yeah, right. On what planet would that happen? 

5.

With everything that had happened to Eddie in the past few days, he hadn’t had time to think about his soulmate. He’d watched Chrissy die before his eyes, learnt the existence of another dimension and was walking through said dimension after witnessing Steve Harrington take a bite out of a demon bat’s tail. It’d been a weird ass day.  

He wished he’d been like Robin and Nancy, able to jump in and rescue Steve on a whim, but as Steve disappeared beneath the black water of Lover’s Lake, he’d felt his throat close and his lungs ache for air. It wasn’t a good time for a panic attack. Nevertheless, he’d managed to get his ass in gear and follow the rest of the group down into Watergate. 

He’d dropped back to walk with Steve and found himself complimenting the man. Steve was nothing like he imagined. He was not only kind, but as Dustin had put it, a total badass. 

Once the adrenaline faded, Eddie found himself lifting the hem of his shirt, examining his side. He felt a dull throb of pain. It’d be his luck to bleed out without noticing, but he found there was nothing there. 

“You good?” Steve asked.

Eddie couldn’t help but let his gaze settle on Steve’s bleeding side. He held his breath. He thought about pushing his hand against Steve’s wound, hurting him more just to check, but Eddie couldn’t hurt Steve. Not now. Especially if he was who Eddie thought he might be. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. You okay?” Eddie asked, gesturing to Steve’s side. The boy nodded.

“I’m fine, just a scratch. Can hardly feel a thing.” 

If Steve was his soulmate, he was full of shit. If Steve was his soulmate when everything blew over, they had a few things to talk about.

+1

Something was very wrong. Vecna was going down in a blaze of flame when Steve’s body started to ache. He felt the familiar sting of interdimensional bat fangs digging into dermis flesh. Robin and Nancy were cheering, wrapping their arms around Steve, whooping, hollering and panting while Steve was busy feeling like he was being torn apart. 

He was pulling away from the girls and turning on his heels before he had the chance to explain, running from the Creel House to the trailer park as fast as his feet could carry him. There was only one person this pain could belong to. 

Steve had spent his whole life searching for his soulmate, desperate to know who they were, and he’d been under his nose the whole time. The fact that Steve’s soulmate was a boy hadn’t surprised him as much as it should. That’d been a crisis bubbling away in the background of his brain since he’d gone to his first swim meet. He’d seen a boy in tight swim trunks, with tan skin and felt the familiar heart-pounding, crush he’d experienced on pretty girls he’d passed in the school hallways. 

By the time he got to Eddie, he’d hardly been able to fight through the pain surging through their connection. Dustin was wailing, holding Eddie in the wake of a bat graveyard. He looked up in alarm at Steve’s figure, noticing his pale skin and sweat-slicked brow. 

“Harrington?” Eddie’s weak voice came from Dustin’s lap. 

Steve was busy removing his clothes, trying to stop the bleeding. Dustin didn’t need to show him where the man was hurt, he could feel it. 

“I really must have got some brownie points in the end,” Eddie murmured. 

Both boys hissed as Steve shoved his shirt into a wound at Eddie’s side. That was when Dustin appeared to catch on, his eyes swelling wide as they darted between the two boys. 

“What’re you talking about, Munson?” Steve asked, trying to keep the guy talking. 

“Must’ve got into heaven after all,” He hummed, his deep brown eyes gazing beyond Steve at the distant red sky. 

“Hey. No. None of that. You aren’t in heaven because you’re not dying,” Steve hissed, using what little strength he had left to lift Eddie’s body. 

“Gotta be in heaven, if you’re here,” Eddie spoke, giving Steve a lopsided grin. Steve felt Eddie’s pain beginning to fade and panicked, not ready to let things end before they’d even had the chance to begin. 

He hoisted Eddie up through the portal and waited to do the same with Dustin. It wasn’t long before the distant sound of sirens once more surrounded the Munson trailer and Steve found himself passing out from the pain as red-blue lights swallowed the world whole. 

Eddie woke in pain, his whole body humming with a familiar dull ache that was unarguably his. It took time for him to make sense of the scene. He was in the hospital. Steve was slumped over at the far edge of the room, sleeping in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his head thrown back and his mouth agape. Eddie’s eyes trailed to his bedside, where he met Dustin’s. 

“Holy shit, you’re awake,” the boy gasped, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. 

Eddie cringed as he felt a rush of pain swarm through his body. He must have gasped, because Steve sprung to life, waking with a start as his eyes trailed from Dustin to Eddie. Steve’s eyes were a storm of quiet conflict, punctuated by deep purple bruises. 

“Eddie,” Steve breathed, standing to hover beside the bed, unsure of what to do next. 

He was surprised Steve was there at all. He wouldn’t say the two were close. Though Steve had probably found some way of twisting Eddie getting hurt into some fault of his, ever the damn hero. 

“Thought I was a goner for a second there,” Eddie admitted, trying to shake some of the strange tension from the room.

“If Steve hadn’t gotten there in time, you would’ve been,” Dustin spoke. Eddie watched as the boy’s hands trembled. He leaned over, fighting through the pain to ruffle the kid’s hair. Steve’s shoulders hunched over, doubling into himself. 

“I’ll get the nurse. Your uncle left for his nightshift, but he should be back in a few,” Dustin muttered as he made a beeline for the exit. It seemed strange the boy was extracting himself from the scene.

Henderson called over his shoulder. “I told you so.” 

And just like that, Eddie knew. 

He looked up at Steve with wide-eyed alarm, only to find his look mirrored.

“How’d you know we were in trouble?” Eddie asked, though thought he knew the answer. 

“After we killed Vecna, I felt... I could feel you. I knew you were hurt,” Steve explained. 

“How’d you know it was me?” Eddie pushed.

“Thought it was too much of a coincidence that it felt like my soulmate was getting eaten alive by giant bats. I’d call it an educated guess.” 

Eddie gritted his teeth and nodded. Surely, as far as soulmates went, he hadn’t been what Steve imagined. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, surprising Eddie. 

“For what?”

“Not being the person you wanted me to be, I guess,” Steve spoke so candidly, it made pain and panic swell in his throat. How could Steve think Eddie was disappointed that he was his soulmate?

“I’m not disappointed, Stevie. Why would I be disappointed?” 

“You had to have known,” Steve reasoned. 

Eddie didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but it sounded like Steve had been overthinking every second of it. 

“You give me more credit than I deserve. I didn’t know it was you, sweetheart. Cross my heart,” Eddie admitted, surprised at how quickly the term of endearment he’d used for his soulmate slipped off his tongue when talking to Steve. 

He hadn’t worked out shit. He’d had hunches, as though his heart knew, but the logical part of his brain kept overriding it. In what world were he and Steve perfect for each other?

Eddie threw caution to the wind as he saw the genuine look of affection and excitement painting its way across Steve’s face. He looked hopeful. Eddie cringed, sitting up and trying to lean closer to Steve.

“Come here before I hurt the both of us,” Eddie grumbled.

Steve shuffled closer to Eddie’s bed, crouching down, so the two were at eye level. Eddie wanted to kiss the boy so damn bad, and Steve was sending him all the signs that he should, but there was something he had to do first. He took Steve’s face between his hands, running a thumb over the purple bruises beneath his eyes.

“No more playing hero, okay?” 

Steve nudged his face into the palm of Eddie’s hand and nodded, letting out a weak chuckle. 

“I think I can agree to that.” 

Eddie crushed their lips together and despite the pain, it felt like everything was right in the world. 

[sanarkeo]

they can’t love you like i love you

nayeon wants to show her girl off to the world.

alternatively: look at you getting fucked by someone you barely know on your first date!! nayeon x reader smut - exhibitionism - humiliation - dom!nayeon w sub!reader - idol!nayeon w idol!reader - power dynamics? unnie kink sorry lol... 4+k words long for some reason

-

it all started at music bank a week into your group’s promotions for the new title track, when your manager entered the waiting room and yelled out that she had a surprise for all of you. you looked up from your phone just as the hairstylist had fixed your bangs and shot an intrigued look over to your closest friend in the group. she raised her eyebrows at you and mouthed: “twice?”

you knew then that it was all over for you.

even being at the music program today, occupying the same building as them brought you a rush you’d only felt going up on a stage and seeing a thousand fans gush over you. you were finally going to be able to meet them, actually meet them. not smile and wave from afar. you could finally talk about how much they’d inspired you, even take a picture with them. but you’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart wasn’t in full on palpitation mode thinking about finally seeing your favorite girl face to face like this.

you’d even set her as your lockscreen for god’s sake. but maybe then the rumors were true and her face does bring good luck or whatever. embarrassed just wondering what’d happen if she ever saw it, you shoved it into the shallow pocket of the tightest mini skirt the stylists could’ve fit you into and left the room with your members.

the meeting with twice was brief and took place in the most random of kbs corridors. most of what you’d remembered of it was tripping over your words, bowing a bit too much and too fervently, and staring at how gorgeous they looked in person. seeing them in concert was nothing like this.

“congratulations on your new song!” sana shrieked, pulling your leader into a hug and beaming at the rest of you. “ah, i love seeing juniors with so much passion!”

they took turns wishing your group the best and exchanging some encouraging words. you were avoiding eye contact with one of the girls in fear you’d combust, but felt her gaze lay heavily on you. The way im nayeon stared you down stirred something in your stomach and made your fingertips tremble against the copies of signed albums.

Unlike jihyo or dahyun, she barely said a word beyond the niceties. Which was odd, because nayeon was nayeon. Her expression was fixed and ambiguous, and you swore at yourself for giving into looking her up and down. She was wearing that outfit from the concept photos. the one with that fucking jacket and the tube top and that skirt. nayeon had her gloved hands on her hips and you had to tear your eyes away, afraid of letting your stare wander too much.

when your manager signalled for the group to get to rehearsals, you hurried to bow once more with your members and hastily presented the signed albums to twice. when you gave a copy to nayeon, she accepted it with both hands and a closed smile.

“thank you, y/n-ah~”

you turned on your heels and ran back to the waiting room to get ready. your members teased you for how pink your face had turned even with all your makeup on.

-

when filming was done, your body felt the pressure of the late nights and intense practices come crashing through. you were just glad you’d be able to get a full night’s sleep. stepping into the waiting room ready to change back into your clothes, the sight of your manager glowering at you made you wince.

“how many times do you have to lose your phone? you know, twice’s manager had to come all the way here to hand it to me.”

she sighed and handed you your phone, now with long, deep cracks sustained from a corner - it must’ve fallen out of your pocket while you were running.

you and half your members got into a van to get back to the dorms. as soon as you settled into your seat and got comfortable though, they started to take sneaky glances at each other and giggled.

“i used to think you liked nayeon-sunbaenim too much but i think she actually likes you back,” one of them teased.

“oh my god, did you see how she was looking at you?”

“or maybe she hates you somehow? either way, even i began blushing…”

“-please, please, please guys i think she was just like ill or something.” you were tired, sure, but the annoyance also had something to do with wanting to never think about the stray possibility of her liking you at all. you turned on your phone to send a text to a friend when you saw it. just as you were going to attach some pictures, you were greeted with a flood of selfies of nayeon.

you first raised an eyebrow at your members who were also busy on their phones, as if they played some lame prank on you. but you soon realised that you’d never seen those nayeon selfies before (you were surprisingly on top of twice content for someone who clocked an average of 4 hours of sleep), and that those selfies looked really fucking recent. taken today, recent.

there she was, standing in front of a bathroom mirror, your phone looking small in her hand, a thumb slipped under the waistband, pulling it ever so slightly down. as soon as you saw it, you dropped your phone onto your lap and took a deep breath. nayeon found your phone, nayeon took your phone, nayeon saw your lockscreen and nayeon used your phone to take insanely hot mirror selfies in the kbs bathroom.

all the other images you flicked through were just slight variations of the first, till you landed on a short video. playing it, you saw nayeon moving your phone back and forth from the mirror as she cycled through an array of poses, mouthing… something?

one of your favorite things about im nayeon was how she could sing like an absolute angel, light and airy, while having this depth and hoarseness in her speech. you pressed the speaker against your ear and upped the volume ever so slightly. the sound of her voice, nearly whispering, soft and sultry, forced a sigh out of you. you’d thought she was just spewing random numbers, which you would’ve accepted anyway, but then it hit you.

it was her number.

-

you [9:01 pm]

hello?

nayeon [9:05 pm]

what took you so long?

-

before your first date, all she’d given you was a date, a time, and an instruction: wait for me outside your building. the surprise in it made your breath hitch as you stepped out the front door to your dorm. the fact that you kept it a secret from your members and managers gave it the mildest sense of danger you craved after years of obedience. when you got down to the entrance, you saw nayeon leaned against her coupe in an off the shoulder midi and heels.

“you got down here a lil early… you this eager for our date?”

in an instant, your cheeks flushed red. first, because in the 3 weeks you’d been texting each other, you must’ve forgotten how beautiful she looked in person. then, because you looked down at yourself and realized how underdressed you were. nayeon clocked this, and you didn’t notice how she tried her best to resist smirking.

“sorry, umm… i didn’t know we were going somewhere fancy…”

it didn’t click that maybe she’d left that bit out intentionally.

“don’t worry babe, a pretty face like yours doesn’t need a flashy dress to make an impression.”

she opened the door for you then got into the driver’s seat. all the way to the restaurant, you held in the urge to ask her to keep her eyes on the road. it was surreal. being in im nayeon’s car and her driving you to your first date at a restaurant you could hardly afford on your rookie checks. her looking into your eyes, staring at your body like she’d eat you whole.

you’d admit you felt uncomfortably warm as she cursed out other drivers. you’d admit you leaked through your underwear when she gripped your bare thigh with her left hand and drew lines with her thumb. you felt her grip loosen and her fingers trace your thigh higher and higher until she pulled it back to hold the wheel.

“ahh! we’re just around the corner. i hope you like french food?”

-

you had a curfew, you had dozens of unanswered texts and yet you were tipsy in im nayeon’s apartment. putting down your glass of wine on her coffee table, you looked over at her floor-to-ceiling windows - a view of the han river at midnight framed perfectly - and shook your head at your stupidity.

your leader might kill you. your company could set your contract on fire.

then, you turned and saw nayeon there, bathed in yellow light, head propped against her hand, biting her bottom lip.

“thank you for tonight,” she said and set her glass down to take your hand and stroke the back of it gently with her thumb.

your leader was going to kill you. your contract was up in flames. whatever.

throughout dinner, all that initial embarrassment of feeling out of place in a dimly lit restaurant full of finely plated dishes and women decked out in jewelry, died down and was replaced by a heat that grew up your neck and between your legs. nayeon made you feel like you were the only girl in the room. like you were worthy of everything. like you were beautiful and good. you tried to play it cool but when she got the bill and asked you if you wanted to come over to her place, you’d never felt more easy in your life.

so there you were, the wine’s acidity coating your tongue, your throat dry, just craving her lips that were parted slightly, right in front of you.

“why did you give me your number?” you asked.

“because.”

nayeon licked her lips and you wondered how desperate you looked at that moment.

“and… and why did you take all those pictures?”

as brazen as nayeon was, you still caught her sheepish smile when it appeared for the briefest moment.

“i knew i had to have you from the moment i laid eyes on you.”

you didn’t know then how long she’d actually kept tabs on you for. she scooted closer and intertwined her fingers in yours, never once breaking eye contact. the smell of bergamot and citrus was intoxicating.

“and it worked didn’t it, babe?”

you hummed in agreement and tore your gaze away from her. but your sight landed on her cleavage and you turned dumb. at once, nayeon lifted up your chin and chuckled, just knowing how much you wanted her.

“texting me straight away like a good girl?"

“i had to.”

nayeon exhaled, closed her eyes and moved her hands to your hips.

“such a good girl for me.”

she kissed you and you never realized how soft lips could be. you laid your arms on her shoulders as she slid her tongue between your teeth, then sucked on your bottom lip till it was sore. when you shifted, you felt how wet you were getting just fantasizing about what that tongue could do to you.

when she pulled away, you saw the desire set deep in her eyes. she tilted her head and sunk her teeth onto your neck. she sucked and licked on your sensitive skin, and you didn’t notice how her hands got under your blouse. you were so sure she’d leave hickeys (and what will you even tell your makeup artists tomorrow?), but the way nayeon’s fingertips traced the curves of your waist left goosebumps on your thighs.

“i-i don’t think i should stay overnight though,” you whined, helping nayeon take off your blouse. “i’m already in so much trouble unnie.”

her bunny-toothed grin appeared as soon as you said that last word and she hurried to get your bra off. “don’t worry, unnie will take care of you.” she tossed your bra aside and steadied her breath staring at your tits. “fuck,” she breathed. “i wish all of seoul could see them.”

she played with your nipples for a while before wrapping her lips around one of them. you threw your head back and moaned, feeling her tongue flick at it and encircle it. she planted kisses across your chest making her way to your other breast and slipped her hands beneath the band of your skirt. you resisted the urge to just spread your legs wide open for her when she pulled it down. you never felt more like a slut than then.

after you kicked the skirt to the side, nayeon kissed you and you whimpered into her mouth. “can i taste you?” she asked, and you nodded and ogled at how the pinkness of her full cheeks spread to her nose.

you squirmed in your seat as you watched her carelessly push back her coffee table and get on her knees. it was mesmerizing seeing her fix her bangs the same way she’d always done when you watched her vlogs or interviews, except this time it was in person, and this time, she’d done it before forcefully dragging you closer to the edge of the sofa.

“fuck…” she groaned. ever since she saw you in that mini skirt, she’d been touching herself to the thought of taking it off of you. now you were in front of her, legs inching apart somewhat unconsciously, she was going to have you. all of you. with your underwear still on, she pressed your thighs further back and took a second to admire the sight of you.

“you’re so wet.” nayeon smirked and dragged her tongue from the bottom of your slit to your clit, the friction from the fabric driving you insane. “so wet for me.” she nearly tore your panties forcing it off of you.

she parted your pussy lips with her long fingers and lapped at your cunt with broad strokes. you writhed and wriggled, sobbing at the way her thick tongue moved onto brushing back and forth over your clit.

“nay-nayeon unnie…”

you bit your lip and looked down, catching her gazing up at you like she was going to devour you. you moaned with each shape she drew with the tip of her tongue.

“my little slut got wet even on the drive over to the restaurant right?”

her tongue teased at your hole, dripping with juices, then sunk into it. you tried moving your hips, grinding against her face to get more of it in, wanting so badly to be filled with her warmth.

“mmh…”

“what a slut,” she muttered, pulling away.

nayeon stood up and ordered you to do the same. she grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you to the window. instinctively, you tried to cover yourself up with your hands and angled your body to the side, nervous at who in those officetels and apartments across the river could’ve seen you.

“no, no,” she said in a low voice, getting behind you and taking your hands in hers, exposing you to the skyline of east seoul. you knew the odds were tiny, but reddened uncontrollably at the thought of some stranger being able to watch. your reputation could’ve been wiped just like that. everyone could’ve found out how much of a slut you were for nayeon. yet, she gently pushed your shoulders down and you obediently took that as a cue to kneel.

“what if someone sees?”

nayeon sighed and sat down, her thighs holding you in place, her clothed chest pressed against your bare back. “you’ll put on a show for them then,” she whispered, and gestured for you to sit down. “you’re good at that aren’t you?”

she forced your legs open, but you tried resisting even to come across faintly as having some sense of dignity. digging her nails into your skin, nayeon spread your legs wide open and you instantly felt the cold air on your pussy again. looking down at all those tiny cars stuck in traffic, at all the red and yellow lights of the city, you shuddered but gulped your doubts straight down. as one of her hands slid down your chest to your abs and finally to your needy pussy, the other groped your breast and rubbed your nipple between a finger and a thumb.

you couldn’t get over how warm and smooth her touch was. she rested her chin on your shoulder and you felt her lips hover behind your ear. “baby, i want the whole world to see you get fucked.”

the moment her fingers skimmed over your clit, you jerked your head back, resting it on her shoulder, and whined. she giggled right in your ear and you felt a wave of tingles run down the small of your back. the image of her eating you out was still burned into your mind.

this was the first time you thought that maybe she just liked to torture you, enjoyed the tension in your thighs as you tried your best to keep them apart. not squeeze them together to get a little more pleasure like a bitch in heat. no, you had more patience than that. just enough to to be able to feel the rise and fall of her chest on your back and not collapse to her feet, pleading to be fucked.

with her index and middle fingers, she slowly parted your folds and you heard the subtle sound of her smacking her lips. “such a pretty pink pussy. i can’t wait to ruin you. can’t wait to hear you beg and cry.” nayeon smacked your cunt and removed a hand from your tits to squeeze your cheeks as you winced in pain. “what do you want? say it.”

“i want you…”

she spanked your pussy again.

“you want unnie to what?”

“i want you use my holes and fuck me like i’m your fuck toy!”

just like that, the pent up horniness from nights wasted fingering yourself senseless to imagined scenarios with her spilled right out. you couldn’t tell how badly that sent her on a power trip, but you had somewhat of an idea. because nayeon dragged her fingers up and down your pussy like it was fucking nothing at all then shoved them so far down your mouth you felt them at the back of your throat.

“suck it,” she ordered.

you obeyed her and wrapped your tongue around the salty slickness of her fingers. you bobbed your head up and down, coating their entire length in your spit. all you could think about was them ripping you open. how she so easily held your tits in the palm of her hand. how much more they would stretch your pussy out than your own fingers.

she pulled them out of your greedy mouth and deftly brought them to your entrance. her fingertips dipped in and out like she was testing you, and the frustration nearly made you break free from her hold.

“please, please, please agh… please fuck me, please!”

she kissed your cheek and held your throat in her free hand. “if you say so,” she quipped, and thrust two of her fingers deep into your hole. she plunged into you fast and hard, you were just dumbstruck at how much they filled you up. she curled her fingers to hit your walls at an angle that made you see stars. your breathing grew ragged as she picked up the pace. nayeon’s grip on your throat tightened and you felt yourself reaching a point where you were so blissed out you would’ve done anything to keep her fucking you at that tempo.

“f-fuck me, fuck oh fuck, please i need you, i need more of you-”

without another word, she forced another finger into you and grunted at how tight you felt, clenched around them. “oh my god, you’re so tight for me,” she sneered, the thought of you feeling so vulnerable and small in her hands made her feel ecstatic. at that point, your brain was mush, and every word that left your tongue was some form of: please, fuck, more, or deeper.

“what was that? d’you want me to slow down honey?” she taunted, and drew her fingers back ever so leisurely. the pressure that was building down in you dissipated and you couldn’t help but grasp at her forearm.

“no- no i was gonna- nayeon… fuck!” you felt tears form and the corners of your eyes. how miserable you must’ve looked to anyone who might’ve peered into the window to see you just there, grinding and fucking onto her unmoving hand until it disappeared. her other hand still on your throat, she shoved you down so you were on all fours.

“you can’t cum now, no, not just yet,” she near growled in your ear. she pushed you around and shifted till your ass was up and facing out onto the skyline. it hadn’t crossed your mind until that night how thrilling it was being treated like a piece of meat in nayeon’s hands. your knees and arms yelped at the cold hard marble tiles, but your belly was hot against the silkyness of her thighs.

then, a hard spank landed on your ass cheek. you shrieked but why were you sticking your ass out even more after that? nayeon massaged your ass and rubbed down to the back of your upper thigh.

“i feel so sorry for giving such a good girl such a bad punishment, but i couldn’t stop myself…” she slapped your ass harder this time and you felt the heat and the pinkness form on your skin. “should i? should i stop?”

you shook your head.

“spank me and fuck me until i’m sore,” you sniffled and rested your cheek on the ground.

nayeon shoved all three fingers back into your sopping wet cunt and pistoned them in and out. the only times she’d ever paused for second were to land a slap on your ass. it stung like hell and each subsequent smack made your clit that bit more sensitive to the accidental brushes of her knuckles.

with every pump deeper into you, nayeon felt your walls squeeze tighter and tighter around her fingers. her arms grew tired and yet she just went faster, knowing how close you were getting.

“cum for me baby, cum for unnie.”

as another smack landed on you, the searing pain combined with the overwhelming pleasure was almost too much to handle. your breath hitched and you clawed at the tiles, nayeon’s pace becoming so unforgiving that you just had to-

“fuck- oh fuck! i’m gonna-”

nayeon nearly came to the sound of your scream. you came so hard you felt like your eyes had rolled back into your skull. speechless, shaking, shivering, even when you felt so overstimulated just having her still fingers inside of you, you could only swipe at her arm. feeling liquid stream down your thigh, you whimpered.

when nayeon pulled your exposed form into her arms, you were enveloped in her warmth and her scent. wordlessly, she rubbed your back and planted tender kisses on your shoulder, up to your jawline and onto your lips.

“i like you,” she confessed. and though it sounded so simple and so light, it gave you butterflies.

she cleared her throat and picked you up. you were initially surprised at how strong she was, then blushed when you thought about the definition in her muscles as she fucked you. she kicked open the door to her bedroom and softly laid you onto her bed. tucking you under her heavy blanket, she gave your forehead a peck and slid into the other side. with how dim the lighting was, you could barely make out how nayeon was just looking at you with a goofy smile plastered on her face.

“i like you too,” you admitted. she stroked your cheek and hummed in contentment. you looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the time on her clock. “fuck. my-my manager, i need to let them know i-”

“shh, shh… darling please don’t worry.” all that fear and anxiety was washed away when nayeon shushed you.

“i’ll handle it, princess.”

-

rahhh first fic! lemme know what you think :D i might continue it but we'll see how it goes... title inspired by underwater by red velvet hehe

[heesvnqie]

>>Gata Only- Lee Heeseung FF

pairing: fem!reader x heeseung

word count: 1.9k+

synopsis: You and Heeseung's patrolling session at Hogwarts dungeons turns into a makeout session.

genre: smut, hogwarts au

warnings: >> smut,cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!heeseung x sub!reader, unprotected sex (a big NO-NO), edging, slight overstimulation, creampie, manhandling. petnames

Song playing: Gata Only by FloyyMenor and Cris MJ

Notes: My two absolute favourite things together!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

As you walked through the cold corridors of Hogwarts, a shiver ran down your spine. You were running late for patrolling.

One male and one female student were chosen from each house in their fifth year to act as prefects. They would continue to be prefects in their sixth and seventh years until they left school.

From Gryffindor, you were chosen as the female prefect. But compared to the male prefect, you were nothing.

The male prefect was none other than, THE Lee Heeseung. He was a ace, a perfectionist, most popular boy of Hogwarts. Starting from juniors to seniors, 99% of them knew him. He was a pureblood, a son from one of the well-known families of the wizarding world.

While on the other hand, you were not from a pure blood family. Though you had great academics and also were a perfectionist but not even close to Lee Heeseung's level.

This evening, just before you left for patrolling, you had been called out by Professor McGonagall. She complimented you on your being the prefect for the hundredth time since you had got the position and presented a long speech on how the position should not change your attitude and how you should not consider yourself above others.

So, now you found yourself walking towards the dungeons. Your area of patrolling was usually near the Great Hall. But Snape had asked you and Heeseung to patrol near the dungeons rather than the Great Hall.

You reached the dungeons as you fixed your skirt and made sure that the shirt was tucked in properly. You fixed the cloak as you held your chin high as you walked down the stairs into the dungeons.

It was dark as the dungeons glowed dark green. The Slytherins Common Room was located in the dungeons afterall.

As you walked a few steps into the dungeon, you felt a presence behind you as you sharply turned back.

There stood Lee Heeseung, face inches away from yours. His eyes glinted in the green glow as he smirked.

Your breath hitched as he walked a few steps closer, his body towering over yours.

You had a damn crush. A crush on the boy that stood now infront of you.

Who didn't have a crush on him afterall?

He was all that a girl would want in a man.

This is was surprisingly your third interaction with him. The first one happened during first year on the Hogwarts Express, when you both shared the same train cabin. The second was during the third year, when Snape had paired you two for making Amortentia.

He chuckled as he felt your breath hitch.

"Remember me?" He asked as it caused you to scoff. You pushed him off you as you walked ahead, shouting back,"Who doesn't. The question should be asked by me if you remember me?"

He laughed at your reply as he ran up to you, walking beside you, matching your speed.

"Cute." He muttered under his breath quietly.

"Well, why wouldn't I remember you? Kim Y/N." Hearing your name from him was like heaven. Your composure was threatening to crumble down.

You stayed quiet. You never expected him to remember the name of a person like you who was just a nobody at school.

"Hey why quiet?" He whined as he suddenely stopped in front of you.

You looked up at him with a sign of vulnerability in your eyes.

"Everyone says that we have a spark." He said as your eyes widened and your mouth opened but no sound came out.

Your mind shoots back to the memory to first year when you and Heeseung had shared the same train cabin. You two had had the best time on the Hogwarts Express as you had chatted for hours and laughed away. The other two students who also shared the train cabin had spoke up and pointed out that you two had a spark among yourselves. You two had looked at each other as you both had coughed awkwardly as the train had come to an halt at Hogwarts and you two had scuttled away from each other.

But why was he bringing it up now?

"W-who said that?' You stuttered out.

"Everyone does. I know that you consider yourself as a nobody but that's not correct. You're very popular among the boys." He said with a smile.

"Really?" You were in utter disbelief.

He nods as he steps close as he whispers into your ear, hot breath flowing down,"And I know everything about you."

You look at him bewildered.

"What do you think? My attention is always on you." He said with a chuckle as he held your shoulders and turned you around. Your back now faced him.

"Let's continue patrolling!" He announced happily as he pushed you a bit to start you walking.

You two walked around the dungeons and realised that the dungeons were a HUGE place.

As you two walked towards a isolated place which glowed more green than the other areas, Heeseung pinned you to the wall.

Your breath stuck in your throat, you stuttered out,"W-what are you doing Hee?"

He looked deep into your eyes.

"You know what?" He asked."I cannot hide it anymore."

"I like you."

Those three words made butterflies erupt into your stomach.

"Really?" You ask.

He nods.

"Through all those fangirls and other playgirls, I waited for you. Only you."

You two stand looking deep into each other's eyes as he breaks the silence.

He speaks up with a bit of hesitance. "What about you? Do you feel anything towards me?"

You chuckle at his straightforward behaviour.

"Yes." You hiss out. He chuckles happy as he jumps around the dungeon.

He opens his arms as you accept the hug happily.

"I am the happiest man on earth." He says then he goes quiet as you see a smirk grow on his face.

"Well, well." He takes small steps towards you as you back away till your back hits the cold dungeon wall.

"We're all alone you see." He points out as he continues,"And it's late so nobody will pass through this part of the dungeon."

"S-so?" You ask as he walks close as you feel his warm breath flow on your face.

"I am no playboy, Kim Y/N. " He says as you feel his hand wraps around your waist.

"And right now I want to fuck you." He presses his body on yours and groans as he whispers in your ear. "And now the thing that is left is your permission to allow me to."

You hesitate but soon feel him whisper,"I have waited too long. I can't control it."

He licks your earlobe as he nibbles on it, making your knees go weak and panties damp.

"Heeseung." You breath out his name. He hums while he places wet kisses down your neck.

"Fuck me."

And that were the only two words that Heeseung ever wanted to hear in his life from your mouth.

Heeseung pulls you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a heated and intimate kiss. His hands roam your body with a sense of urgency, leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touches. You respond eagerly, wrapping your hands over his shoulder.

Every touch sparks into flames, as you two forget about your surroundings.

Heeseung groans against your mouth, pressing his body on yours as he rubs his clothed cock on you.

"Oh god. You drive me crazy, you know that? he whispers, his voice thick with desire.

His hands move with confidence and purpose, knowing exactly how to drive you wild. "I can't get enough of this." Heeseung murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck.

Heeseung’s kisses move lower, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands are everywhere, caressing, teasing, and worshipping your body.

He slips your panties down and slides a hand over your pussy which makes you gasp. You tilt your head back and he makes rounded movements on your clit.

Suddenly he flattens his tongue over you, licking a long line from your entrance to your clit. You cry out again, feeling lightheaded as your hands squeeze into fists. He slides 2 fingers into your slick opening, and you know it won't be long before you're coming.

"Feel good?", he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive growl. His eyes lock onto yours, the intensity in his gaze holding you captive. Your back arches off the wall, and you struggle to find your voice, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps

"S-so good," you manage to whisper out.

Heeseung’s smile widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. He moistens his hand, his fingers gliding over your clit with a newfound slickness, amplifying the sensation. The friction combined with the wetness sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you cry out. His movements become more insistent, his fingers expertly playing your body.

Heeseung’s fingers maintain their relentless rhythm, each movement pushes toward your climax.

His fingers dive lower, exploring your wetness before returning to your clit, now wet with your cunt and his cock. He adds a third finger, sliding them inside you, curling them just right to hit that sensitive spot that makes your knees almost give out. Your body is caught in a whirlwind of pleasure as you hear him say,"Tell me how much you want this."

"I need you so bad, heeseung. please, don’t stop." You moan out unable to keep quiet.

His eyes darken with desire, and increases the pace of his fingers, thrusting them deeper inside you. The sound of your wetness fills the dungeons. But you two are not scared of getting caught.

"Come for me. Show me how much you wanted me all these years."

His words is your signal. With a final, high-pitched moan, you come, your body clenching around his fingers, the pleasure crashing over you in waves.

As you calm down, he takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The sight is intense.

Heeseung kisses you, lips claiming yours with a new level of neediness. You can taste yourself on his tongue, a reminder of the pleasure he just gave you.

He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you, his breath ragged.

Heeseung’s eyes glow with desire, as he aligns his cock with your entrance, his tip touching your sensitive clit, making you gasp.

Heeseung chuckles darkly as he slams into you, a broken groan leaving his lips. He begins to fuck into you at an ungodly pace and you cling to him, moans and desperate cries leaving your lips. Heeseung's lips find your neck and bite at the skin there as he continues to snap his hips into yours and every time his pelvis connects with yours, you feel going to heaven and back.

"You’re so tight." He groans, his voice rough. "Damn you make me feel so good."

You can only moan in response, your body meeting his thrusts eagerly, the pleasure overwhelming. Heeseung’s movements become more uneven, his control slipping as he nears his own climax. He reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

The dual sensation is too much, and you feel yourself moving toward another climax.

"Cummming for me again babygirl? yeah?" He says, his forehead still on yours, his breathing ragged.

With a final, powerful thrust, he sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy.

He follows you moments later, his own release tearing through him, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you, his breath ragged and his body trembling.

You pulls your panties up as you sit down on the dungeon floor tired.

He sits down and pulls you onto his lap."Fuck, you are mine." he bites his lips and places his head in the hollow of your neck.

"Gata Only."

THE END-----

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Hope you enjoyed the story! You can send me your request and ideas! I love reading them. Requests open to be in my perm taglist..

[megalony]

Junior

This is a new Dominic Luca imagine from Swat that I had an idea for, I hope you will all like it. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff

@jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Swat Masterlist

Summary: While Luca is at work, his wife gets taken into hospital and he breaks down when he finds out she's gone into premature labour without him there.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luca could feel the bruises blossoming on his skin like malicious works of art. He knew the moment he took his shirt off, he would be able to see petals of blue and lilac painting his skin with leaves of mustard yellow. With centres of navy blue as dark as the Pacific ocean from the impact of the bullet lodging in his vest.

He knew the back of his right shoulder was going to be painted and he was going to see various other colours splashed across his left arm from where he collided with a coffee table when he took down one of the suspects.

He wondered if the impact of the bullet against his vest felt as bad as actually being shot. It felt like he had a bullet indent in his skin already, like there was a crevace indented deep into his upper back over his right shoulder.

His head hung down as he followed the team back inside Swat headquarters and his fingers worked hard to hook the keys of Black Betty onto his holster belt where they always stayed.

"You good?"

He felt Deacon pat his lower back, specifically avoiding his shoulder because they had all seen what happened.

All of them had reacted fast when a suspect went to throw down his weapon and accidentally set it off in the process. Luca and Hondo had their backs to the suspect, they had been advancing down the corridor when the bullet clocked Luca in the shoulder. And everyone had been surprised when he carried on with the job. They should see his arm shaking and his expression taut to hide the agony he had been in.

Putting on a brave face didn't wash with the team, but even Hondo couldn't force Luca to get seen by the paramedics. He could still move his arm and his hand and Luca had dealt with dislocated and broken bones, he knew his shoulder was fine. The worst he would have was a torn muscle and he dealt with those almost every other month.

"Battered and bruised, but I'm good." He gave his right shoulder a roll, clicking the joint into place and moving the muscles at the back which felt shredded.

"Surprised you can still drive, Luca." Chris commented as she passed him and overtook the team, taking the lead in walking through to the gym.

"Please, nothing gets between me and Black Betty."

Luca was their designated driver. No one touched the jeep when he was around. It was his preferred duty, he was their fastest and most efficient driver and everyone knew it. He knew all the back streets, the quickest routes, he could cut corners like a champ and he was good in a chase. And Luca didn't drive like he was on a heist. His driving was smooth and steady at the best of times especially in a panic which is precisely what they needed when they were on a chase or a time sensitive mission.

His shoulder had pained him when he was driving them back to headquarters, but Luca hated being a passenger. He didn't want to give the reigns over to someone else.

But Luca knew he was going to have to get a Hell of a lot of painkillers to dull down this ache and get him through the next few weeks at Swat. He might have to find one of those herbal remedies that always worked on his aches and sprains rather than an injection from the doctor. He didn't like needles.

He began to scratch the base of his neck as they rounded the boxing ring and aimed for the locker room. Everyone was slugging along by now, barely lifting their heads, dragging their feet, shoulders hung forward. Everyone needed to get out their protective gear and refuel in the kitchen.

"Tell me we don't have to cook anything." Street tossed his head back with a quiet groan, nothing but food playing on his mind.

"I think there's some leftovers in the fridge."

Luca continued to drag his nails back and forth along his neck, trying to work out the kinks in the muscles, but it wasn't working. He only seemed to relax when (Y/n) was around. He held tension until his wife was within his sights, and then he could somehow melt into a puddle beneath her touch. The last time she'd given him a massage he almost fell asleep straight away. He was always calm when he was with her.

The five of them trudged around the boxing ring, aiming for the double doors at the end which would lead into the locker room. But their walk slowed down until they were barely moving at all when a familiar figure walked towards them.

The commander.

He had one hand stuffed into his trouser pocket and his other hand wiping back and forth across his chin in that stiff, tense manner that indicated something wasn't quite right with him.

His eyes focused on the floor like he was calculating each step he took or working something out in his head. But when he finally lifted his head and looked through those narrowed eyes, his sights set on one person and one person only.

"Luca, can I have a word?"

That didn't sound good. Those words sent shockwaves down Luca's spine right to the tip of his toes like electric shocks beating through his nerves.

He hadn't done anything wrong. He shouldn't be in trouble for anything. He was one of the straight-cut members of Swat, he was third-generation and he was damn good at what he did. No one had a problem with Luca and no one had ever known him step a foot out of line or break the rules. He could get very fiery and worked up on certain subjects, but his heart was always in the right place.

"Uh, sure." His nails scratched a little too tightly down his neck as he dropped his hands to clench them together in front of his stomach. His hands began rubbing together and he raked his nails over his knuckles, doing anything with his hands to rid himself of his sudden nervous energy.

His back straightened and his shoulders squared up, despite the ache it caused in them. He veered away from his team which felt like falling out of sync as he moved to the right to stand in front of the commander.

"Everything okay, boss?" He refrained from scratching his hands and settled for clasping them together in front of his chest in one of his usual, nervous mannerisms. Something barely any of the team would take notice of, the only one who knew it was a nervous habit was his wife.

Had he done something wrong? Had Hicks found out that Luca got a bit ruffed up on this call and refused to be treated by the paramedics? Was he going to insist that Luca went to the doctor for an exam?

"(Y/n) called while you and the team were out, she was taken down to the hospital."

All of Luca's blood ran cold in his veins like he had been submerged underwater. He could feel his lungs stuttering in his chest, coming to a halt while his shoulders sagged and his lips parted, but he couldn't find the words he wanted or needed.

Hospital. (Y/n). That wasn't right.

"Why? What happened?"

"Her water broke, she's gone into labour." Hicks tried to speak as calmly as he could in a quiet voice so no one loitering about would be able to pick up on their conversation.

He'd been mulling over how to have this talk with Luca. He knew he couldn't waste any time, as soon as he knew the team were back he was on his way down here to tell Luca the news. But he knew it wasn't going to go down well and he could see Luca was already about to either blow up or break, he wasn't sure which.

"No." Something akin to a smile fluttered across Luca's lips as he shook his head, believing this to be some sick joke being played on him. "No. She- she can't, she's what, twenty nine weeks. She can't go into labour now."

That wasn't right. That wasn't possible.

They were only just at seven months, they weren't supposed to be thinking about labour for another eight weeks at least. Why was (Y/n) going into labour? What happened while he had been at work? Luca never thought it would happen this early, not when so far, everything had gone smoothly with the pregnancy.

(Y/n) had been fine, morning sickness had finally tapered off and at their last scan the baby had been healthy in every way.

Luca wasn't supposed to come on shift and worry about his wife going into early labour without him being there. (Y/n) didn't have any complications that would warrant this happening and Luca stupidly thought that something like this wouldn't happen to them because they had no other issues thus far.

His hands dropped from his chest to clench into fists at his sides that were shaking like he was desperate to climb into the ring and go five rounds with whoever dare oppose him.

"You need to go to the hospital, Luca. Captain Cortez already went down so (Y/n) wouldn't be on her own-"

"When did she call? Why didn't you tell me?!"

How was Captain Cortez at the hospital before him? No one but Luca was supposed to be at the hospital with (Y/n). He was her husband. This was his baby. He didn't even have a clue if (Y/n) was actually going to have the baby now or if she had just had contractions which the doctors might be able to stop.

Luca was supposed to be with (Y/n) if anything happened. He was supposed to have his hours cut down once (Y/n) hit thirty-seven weeks. They had planned for him to do less shifts during the week when she reached that marker so that when she went into labour, Luca had better chances of being home with her. He didn't want to miss a thing.

"You were in the middle of a raid, I couldn't pull you out Luca, I had to wait until the mission was complete-"

"Bullshit." The word spit like venom from his tongue and before Hicks could try to explain, Luca was gone.

He spun on his heels, his boots hitting the floor with vigour as he bolted from the gym, slamming through the double doors so violently they shook the walls and the foundations of the building.

Tears burned in the corners of Luca's bloodshot eyes that were stinging like they were full of acid. This couldn't be happening to him. This wasn't fair. Why him? Why couldn't this happen to anybody else? He and (Y/n) had done nothing wrong to warrant this. Luca didn't even know what he was going to be walking into when he got to the hospital. He could have missed something important.

Labour might have stopped when he got there, or it could have progressed. (Y/n) could be screaming out for him and Luca was still here.

They should have told him. Cortez or Hicks should have radioed through to Hondo and told him to cut Luca from the mission and send him back to headquarters. They could have continued the mission without Luca, it would still have been a success and worked without him. They had no right to keep this from him and put the mission before the sake of his family like that.

His presence in the locker room sent chills through everyone's blood and his raging temper could be felt in all of them.

Before he was three steps into the locker room, Luca whipped the bulletproof vest over his head, ignoring the ache in his shoulder which was nothing more than a minor inconvenience compared to the panic swarming his heart. He tossed the vest into his locker, along with the holster strapped to his waist. And his trembling hands fought to keep steady and find his car keys that were bundled up in his backpack.

He didn't have time to get changed out of his work clothes. He had no time to get his things in order or change into his sweatshirt and jeans rather than his cotton work shirt and cargo trousers he was still wearing.

He swung his backpack on his shoulder and kicked the locker door so violently it swung open and closed all of three times before finally staying shut. And there was a significant indent in the sleek grey metal from his boot.

"Luca… everything okay?" Street was desperate to reach out for him but he didn't dare. Luca didn't look like he was in the mood to be calmed down and reaching for him might just set him off.

They could all see the tears freely streaming down his face which was burning red like the fires of Hell.

It didn't take much for Luca to get emotional, especially about things that hit close to home for him. But it did take something extremely worrying or powerful to get him to cry so freely like this and right now he was one sob away from breaking.

"Luca, what happened?" Hondo closed his locker, taking precise steps towards the blond but he didn't get close enough before Luca was turning on his heels and sprinting for the door.

"(Y/n)'s having the baby."

***

Luca wasn't sure what he was going to find when he entered the hospital room. It felt like he was running in a nightmare. The corridors stretched on for miles, the numbers on the doors went in the wrong order and didn't make any sense and he could feel the seconds ticking by.

By the time he finally locked his eyes onto the right room and read the numbers over and over to make sure it was the right one, he couldn't breathe. All the blood drained down to his feet, his shoulder stopped aching and all Luca could feel was his heartbeat throbbing through every inch of his skin. No pain, no terror, no numbness, just his heartbeat and a wave of uncertainty overwhelming his senses.

Whatever he had been expecting on the other side of that door wasn't the sight he was faced with.

Luca felt the door swing shut behind him and it caused a shudder to vibrate through his skin.

His frantic eyes did a sweep of the room that was much calmer than he had been expecting. No nurses, doctors of midwives fluttering about. No frantic cries or panicked voices or beeping monitors.

His wife was laid in the middle of the bed, knees pulled up, arms around her waist and head burrowed down into the pillow. Tears stained her face, her eyes looked swollen and tired as if keeping them open was too much effort. And sat on the chair pulled up close to the bed was Jess, Luca's Captain.

The Captain looked the least held together Luca had ever seen her. He wasn't used to the panic in her eyes, the slight tremble in her hands and the lack of composure.

"I'll give you two a moment alone." She squeezed (Y/n)'s arm and forced the smallest smile she could before she got up.

Her hand found Luca's arm as she walked past and he couldn't find his voice so he settled on nodding. Hoping his expression was enough to thank her for staying until he could get here. She didn't have to come down and be with (Y/n), but Luca was grateful she had so (Y/n) didn't have to be alone.

When the door closed behind her, Luca forced himself to move, he couldn't stand in the doorway waiting for answers.

Luca slumped down on the side of the bed, feeling like he could just melt into a puddle then and there. But when his eyes suddenly set on (Y/n)'s trembling arms that were slowly moving up and down over her stomach, his head started to shake.

No.

"It's a boy."

No. He'd missed it. He knew this would happen. Luca felt something shift when he got in the car and started his frantic drive down here. Something inside him started to scream that he wouldn't make it there in time, and he had been right.

She'd had the baby without him. They didn't tell him in time. Why didn't Corte or Hicks pull him off the mission? Why couldn't they have told him as soon as (Y/n) called so he could of been here?

This was their first baby. This was something Luca had been searching for his whole life, waiting to find someone to give his heart to and start a family with. He wanted to be a dad. Luca wanted to be a better dad than both his grandad and his dad had been. He wanted to be there for (Y/n) for everything with the pregnancy, but the birth was something Luca had been adamant he wasn't going to miss out on.

"W-where is he?" He was almost too afraid to ask.

It didn't seem to bode well that Luca couldn't see any nurses or midwives fluttering about the room. There was no incubator or baby in here. His wife had been crying for a while, judging by the tear stains on her face and her laboured breathing.

"The ICU… we can go see him soon."

"He's okay?"

Luca couldn't help the shiver that tore through him while he reached forward for her hands. He unfolded her arms from her chest and pulled her arms onto his lap while his thumbs began to brush up and down the back of her hands.

He waited as patiently as he could, watching (Y/n) as she tried to sit up straighter and lower her legs down. But moving made her ache and stretching out didn't feel good when all she wanted to do was curl up and make herself disappear.

"Too early to tell. H-he was so tiny." Another tidal wave of tears started to fall until (Y/n) was trembling, broken cries leaving her lips.

It broke her heart to see Luca bow his head and watch his broad shoulders begin to shake with each silent cry that wracked his body. His grip on her hands tightened and he pulled them closer until he was imbedding her hands into his lower chest, wishing it would do something to relieve the agony that was crippling him.

"We can see him soon though, right?" Luca lifted his head, unable to fight off the hope that dwelled in his eyes.

He had missed the birth, but he wanted to see his boy. He needed to. This wasn't sinking in and it wasn't going to cement in his brain that he was now a dad until he had his boy within his sights. It didn't seem right to look at (Y/n) now and see her stomach already in a different shape. He didn't like it. This was too early. Their boy was going to be so small.

His thumbs continued to glide over the back of her hands and she nodded, calming down one of the many nerves building up in Luca's chest. (Y/n) didn't know when they would be able to go down or when a nurse was going to tell them where exactly their boy was, but she knew someone would come and talk to them soon.

Once he had been taken to be examined, the nurse told (Y/n) that once he was cleaned up and weighed, he would be set up on any machines he needed and in an incubator. This hospital was going to be his home for the foreseeable future. But (Y/n) had been reassured that it wouldn't be long until she could see him and she could stay with him as long as she liked.

Another tear rolled down (Y/n)'s face and it broke Luca's heart. He took a deep breath before he let go of her hands in favour of cupping her face instead. His thumbs stroked lovingly beneath her eyes and he pushed forward until he could rest their temples together.

His lips tried to curve into a tepid smile when he felt (Y/n)'s hands clutching at his wrists, causing him to shake along with her.

"You w-were supposed to be here, with me. I was so scared, Luca." Tears fell down the bridge of her nose and trickled over Luca's hands.

She wanted him here. She had been screaming when Jess turned up in his place, assuring her Luca would be here as soon as he could. (Y/n) knew what that meant. He was on a mission that was 'too important' to jeopardise for (Y/n)'s sake. She had been put in second place, something that was never an issue before. But (Y/n) needed him.

She needed her husband here when she was told she was going into premature labour and it couldn't be stopped. She wanted Luca to be holding her and telling her it was going to be okay. She needed him beside her as their little boy was born, especially when she didn't know if their baby was going to be okay or not.

She tried to tilt her head down but Luca's hands prevented her from doing so. He kept their foreheads pressed together, swallowing down the cry burning at the back of his throat. He couldn't find the will to open his eyes because he knew looking at her was only going to crumple his composure and shred his heart into further broken pieces.

Their noses brushed together when Luca pressed his lips to hers, tasting the salt tears trickling across her lips and down her chin. He could feel her rapid, shallow breaths pausing while he kissed her, allowing her system to calm down. Her hands clutched his wrists tighter and her tongue battled against his and she leaned back into the pillows as Luca leaned further into her.

"I tried," He gasped against her mouth, his lips hovering so close they were still touching and his eyes bore into hers. "I came as soon as Hicks told me, I swear baby I swear I tried-"

"Swat comes first though, right?" There was something ironic, almost sarcastic in her voice, but no anger or malice like the words intended.

(Y/n) knew the game. She knew that the team always told their partners that Swat came first. During birthdays, parties, hospital visits, days off, school meetings and plays, if Swat called, it was prioritised. Family was put on the back burner and (Y/n) understood that.

All the dates they had cut short, their days off that turned into nights alone while Luca was called into work. The panic of wondering if he was going to be okay, the hazard pay that didn't make up for the threat of losing Luca every day he went to work. The amount of times (Y/n) had made a trip down to the hospital when Luca got hurt. The nights she had woken up to find him crying from bad memories or waking up from horrid nightmares.

She coped with it all because she understood. She understood someone had to do this job and Luca was one of those people. He looked after everybody, he protected people when no one else would and he loved his job like it was his family.

But today was the one day where (Y/n) wished she could of come first. She wished Luca would of been here, that he would of been allowed to be by her side. And she stupidly thought that maybe, just maybe, Luca would come to be by her side and favour her over the job.

"No!" The dark tone to Luca's voice made (Y/n) shudder and jump against him. "Not anymore. You always come first, you and him. You're more important to me than anything else in my life and if I knew, I would of left that mission without a second thought. I'll always choose you."

"Luca-"

"Always. You understand me, you come first to me." He was at the point of almost shaking her head to get her to understand.

(Y/n) tightened her hands around his wrists but she nodded. She could see the resentment and the fury burning up in his eyes from not being here in time. From not being told on time.

If they told him straight away, Luca would have turned around and run back out that building. He would of come down here straight away because before (Y/n), Swat was his life. Luca had nothing but Swat and that was okay, that was enough. But now, now he had (Y/n) and their little boy and Luca knew from the beginning that he would always put them first.

If his family ever needed him, he would be there. This was no different. He knew now, he was here now and he wasn't going to let anything take him away from his wife and son. This was where he needed to be and this was where he was going to stay.

***

Tiredness ebbed away in the corners of Luca's eyes and at the back of his mind, but he tried to push it to one side and ignore it.

The first hint of a smile began to form on his lips when he looked down. He pulled the sleeves of his leaf green sweatshirt down until the cuffs were folded over his hands. His nails scratched into the worn material and he rubbed the cotton between his thumbs. An old habit he hadn't gotten out of, hiding his hands in his sleeves.

Both arms pinned over his chest like he was giving himself a comforting hug and he leaned forward until his nose was almost touching the plastic that separated him from his little boy.

His arms left his chest and moved down to press on the incubator, tapping lightly in time with the heartrate monitor.

He wasn't sure what to say. Was his boy going to hear him properly? Was he going to take notice of the sounds around him?

"Hey, little guy."

For what had to be the tenth time this morning, Luca carefully slid his right hand through the small circular opening in the side of the incubator.

His fingers skimmed across his little boy's chest, just a small, delicate touch that was barely there. Luca couldn't find it in himself to be comforted by the feeling of his little boy breathing steadily like this. Not when he knew it was the machine that was making him breathe. As soon as that tube was removed from his nose and he was breathing on his own, Luca knew he would feel a lot better.

He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a premature baby this small or this close up in person. None of his friends had ever had a baby this early and he was only close enough to his friends at Swat to know and be around their kids. Deacon's kids had all been born around their due date. Never like this.

It was unnerving to think that if he put both hands in the incubator, his son would barely fit in the palm of his hands. He only weighed two pounds. Luca had never seen a baby so small and lightweight. He was like a doll.

"We can hold you later, you know. God, you're so small."

The back of Luca's fingers skimmed across his boy's arm, up and down in a slow motion. It still didn't feel real. Luca never thought that when his first child would be born, they would be hidden away in an incubator like this, kept alive on wires and machines and barely the size of Luca's hands.

He thought he'd be cradling his son in his arms, surprised at how big he was and showing him off to friends and family. Waiting desperately to take him home. Not waiting five to six weeks for him to develop and get well enough to be taken home without life support.

It all looked so strange, considering Luca had never seen any neonatal equipment before.

The incubator was here to make his boy feel like he was back in the womb and to get him to grow and develop. Luca knew realistically that his boy wasn't going to feel frightened or as if he was on his own, but Luca hoped that his touch would help his boy somehow.

He stroked his thumb against the back of his hand, noting how his son's skin was like sandpaper. A bit gritty, somewhat coarse and extremely fragile. If Luca applied too much pressure he might break his skin.

"I don't know how to hold you though, I don't wanna hurt you."

He knew the nurses would get his boy out the incubator and show them how to properly hold him and get skin contact, but Luca was nervous. His boy had cotton wool over his eyes to protect them from the light so they could continue to develop. There was a breathing tube taped into his nose that was constantly making Luca's eyes well up with tears. He had a cannula taped into his head beneath the tiny hat to keep him warm. There were monitoring stickers on his chest, wires stuck to his skin and a tube through the cord where they would feed him.

"Your grandad's gonna come down and see you soon, and I bet the team will be asking about you and wanting to see you."

He couldn't quite get his head round the fact that he could now call himself a dad. He could tell people he had a baby boy. This little life right here, that wouldn't fit in his hands, was already alive and here.

This was his boy. This was the little person he was going to be cradling at night and settling to sleep and feeding and washing and dressing him up and taking him down to visit the team. This was the little boy that in a few years, Luca would be proudly showing off at headquarters and showing him where his dad and grandad had worked. Where Luca was now third generation.

He wasn't going to impose that on his boy, though. Both Luca's father and grandfather had drilled it into him that Swat was his legacy, it was what he should do with his life and it was luck that Luca never wanted to do anything else. He wasn't going to make his boy feel like this was where he belonged. As far as Luca was concerned, the Swat legacy could end with him. As long as his boy was safe and happy.

"I don't know how I'm gonna get through these next few weeks, I just wanna take you home already."

He was desperate. He felt like one of the robbers he was always taking down at Swat. He wanted to steal his son from the incubator and take him home. He wished he could of kept (Y/n) and their baby safe. He wished he could rectify things so their boy was born nearer his due date, when it was safe. But now he was here, Luca just wanted to pick him up and take him home.

He didn't know how the next few weeks were going to work when he and (Y/n) weren't going to be able to take him out of this. They would get to hold and cradle him for a while, they would see the nurses feeding him and changing him and checking his vitals. But they couldn't do anything from this side of the incubator.

Luca wanted his boy to know what a cuddle felt like. He wanted to be able to give him a kiss and hold him and let him know how much he was loved already.

"I must have had intuition or something, 'cos I already put the crib up last month. So that's ready for when we take you home."

(Y/n) had chided him for putting it up so soon, but now with the way events had turned out, Luca felt like it must have been a forewarning. It was one less thing to sort out, but Luca was going to need all the tasks and work he could find to get him through these next few weeks to tide him over until he could take his boy home.

Luca found it fascinating to look at the tiny nappy they put on his son. It didn't look right, being so small and compact and seeing such tiny legs sprouting out which only looked the length of Luca's index finger. And when his eyes trailed up to look at his son's small head, he was relieved that his boy now had a little lime green cap on to help keep him warm.

Luca didn't want anyone removing that cap. Not when he knew that was where the IV line had gone.

Everyone knew that Luca wasn't good with needles. If they were going into his skin he would throw a fit and lose his rag, but if he was seeing someone else get a needle or an injection, it made him queasy. He was relieved he hadn't seen the nurse put that cannula into his son's head, that would have given Luca a blackout.

He was glad the cap covered the IV line which could only be seen popping out the end of the cap behind his tiny ear that was smaller than Luca's thumb.

"I should of been there," His words were quiet and lost on himself and they brought tears to his eyes. "I wanted to be there… I'm sorry, little guy. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

He knew his son was never going to know or begrudge the fact that Luca hadn't been there at the birth, but it was something Luca himself was going to have to live with. He was never going to forgive himself for not being there, for letting (Y/n) down and making her think she came second to the job. Luca was going to be there for everything else. For both of them.

Anything and everything they needed him for, Luca would be there. He wasn't going to miss another thing in their son's life and he was going to make sure he was there for (Y/n) too.

Just as he slid his hand from the incubator and went to rest both arms on top of the plastic, Luca felt a familiar pair of arms circle around his waist. And a familiar face pressed into his back just beneath his broad shoulder blades. His lips curved into a grin and he slowly slid his hand down to hold onto (Y/n)'s wrist.

"Hi babe, you okay?" He twisted his body so his left hip was pressing against the incubator, allowing him to weave his right arm around (Y/n)'s waist and tug her closer.

She tucked herself into his chest with her cheek pressed against his sternum so her eyes could focus on the incubator in front of them. The feeling of Luca's hand feathering up and down her hip and the feel of his lips against her temple faded out when (Y/n) looked at her little boy.

"Hm. How is he?"

"The little trooper's doing good." Luca spoke against the top of (Y/n)'s head, breathing into her hair while he leaned back so she could slouch against his chest.

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) gently pressed her chin into Luca's chest so she could look up at him.

He had dark circles beneath his eyes and a hazy look in his pupils, showing off his desperate need for sleep. And the red rings beneath his eyes showed off the fact that he had been crying again. All he had done since he got here was cry, not that (Y/n) blamed him when she was much the same.

She could see he looked like he wanted to cry again so she started to slowly glide her hand up and down his back while she tucked herself further into his chest.

The way he slouched and grinned tiredly but endearingly made (Y/n) smile and attach her lips to his neck.

"We need a name for him." Her words were soft and her tone was even softer, melting along the edges while she smiled against his skin and grazed her teeth dangerously close to his throat.

They couldn't keep calling him baby Luca, it didn't sound right when (Y/n) was so used to using their joint last name to refer to her husband. Calling him Dom wasn't something (Y/n) liked to do because it didn't fit well when everyone else just called him Luca.

"What were you thinking?"

"I know you didn't want to name him after your grandad… but what about naming him after you?" (Y/n) could see her words surprised him. His hand tightened on her waist and his eyes shot down to look at her like she had spoken in a foreign language.

As close as Luca had been to his grandad when he was younger, they had their disagreements over the years and they had never been as close when he grew up. The one and only memory Luca was happy to think of these days was when he passed for Swat. He didn't want to name their baby after his dad or grandad, especially not if that would put a weight on their shoulders and make their son feel like he was obliged to join in the Swat tradition.

But (Y/n) thought it might be better to name him after Luca instead. She could already see that Luca loved their son to death and would do anything in the world for him.

"After me?"

"He's a fighter, like you. He needs to be strong, and you're the strongest person I know."

Luca tilted his head down and pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head, doing his best to ward off the tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't want to cry anymore, not today. He twisted so he was properly facing her and looped his other arm around her shoulders with his hand cupping the back of her neck. He felt her hands clutching at his back and he sighed into her hair, unable to stop himself from grinning.

"What about Junior?" Luca knew it would be too confusing to start calling their son Luca and Dom was more of an adult name. But they could call him Nick or Junior, the latter sounded more appealing to Luca. He could see himself walking into Swat, introducing everyone to his little double. His Junior.

A smile spread across (Y/n)'s lips as she pressed her face further into his chest, inhaling his scent as she kissed his sternum through his sweatshirt.

"I like it."

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: Corridor Shares a Shimmering Rumination on Mortality

New Video: Corridor Shares a Shimmering Rumination on Mortality @corridormtl @subpop @subpoplicity @bonsound @bonsoundpromo

Mimi, Corridor‘s long-awaited and highly-anticipated fourth album is slated for an April 26, 2024 release on CD, LP and DSP globally through Sub Pop and across Canada through Bonsound. The 8-song album, which was co-produced by the band and Joojoo Ashworth and recorded at Montréal-based Studio Gamma and mastered by Brooklyn’s Heba Kadry Mastering, derives its name from Jonathan Robert’s cat and…

[simpxxstan]

lunch

pairing: elementary school teachers lee seokmin x f.reader

genre: fluff, fluff and some more fluff. a tiny pinch of angst.

summary: as a veteran at sebong elementary school, you don't let any of your juniors get too close to you. the new science teacher, lee seokmin, doesn't seem to get the note, though.

word count: 9.6k words

rating: pg 13 

warnings: use of a few profanities, mention of alcohol and illegal gambling. reader is a bit cold in the beginning. slight age gap.

a/n: SO MUCH FLUFF my body hurts but it was so nice to just write good guy dokyeom after all that angst for wonwoo. i'm sorry to any hyungwon fans who may be reading this though T_T

would love to hear feedback!! reblogs and comments are so so much appreciated <3

this is part of the boys over flowers series featuring booseoksoon + chan! this is the first instalment in that series.

It was a day of much ruckus and excitement. The teachers and students were all waiting eagerly to meet the four new teachers who were joining Sebong Elementary School that day. Children with bright cherub faces peeped from their classroom windows, some crowded in the corridors, and teachers whispered loudly, as they all waited to see the four faces of the new teachers emerge from the Principal’s office. And when they finally did, a loud, collective gasp was heard rippling through every room and corner of Sebong Elementary School. And then the bubble broke, as loud whispers and giggling overtook every other noise, as the four men smiled at the kids and adults gathered through the school. They shone brighter than the tubelights on the ceiling-

“Okay, I think you’re exaggerating, Sohee. I’m sure they don’t have 1000 watt smiles.”

“Oh, Y/N, but they do! Even an ice queen like you is going to melt when you see them. They just exude warmth, kindness, and handsomeness. They look like idols, really!” 

“Now you’re definitely exaggerating. Park carefully, and don’t daydream please. I’ve been nervous from the moment I let you drive my car.”

“It’s a third-hand car. I should, in fact, smash it, so that you can buy something better. The government’s just moments away from declaring it as junk.”

“This is all I can afford, Sohee.”

“Car loans exist!”

“Bankruptcy exists!”

Sohee huffs, and you meticulously check the rear view mirror to ensure she parks neatly. Once done, (read, once Sohee has finished touching up her lipstick and her mascara, and put a few cute hairclips in her long brown hair, cute by her metrics), you both step out of the car. The heat has become harsher, and you’re a little taken aback by the sting of sunlight on your skin. But it feels good to be out again after that stupid bout of fever which had kept you away from school, and consequently, your life. 

You meet several students getting out from the bus in front of the school, some smiling and already chattering with their friends, others shyly holding on to the fingers of their parents. Some of them wave hi to you, others loudly squeal their welcome backs. Your morning grumpiness is slowly wearing away, and you can feel energy bubbling in. It’s barely been the start of the year, and the little ones are very, very gradually warming up to the idea of being away from home for longer than three hours. It’s a trying time for their teachers, and you’re grateful that you don’t teach the youngest class. 

On the short walk from the parking area to the school, and it’s such a miracle that Sohee doesn’t start talking about the four new teachers, because you’re frankly tired of hearing about them. It feels like they don’t exist, and even if they do, they’re going to be massive letdowns compared to Sohee’s descriptions. Sohee does have the habit of hyperbole. 

But you fall headfirst into it as you slide open the door to the staffroom. Everyone stands up and greets you, as you’re one of the earliest members of the staff. You’d like to think that their greetings are out of affection, and not just respect, but you don’t mind. Majority of the staff is quite young, and people look up to you as the sunbae, and it’s a position of respect you crave and enjoy. It’s not like you’re great at showing how you love them either. You can just hope that they get to know about it from time to time, and don’t hate you for not being too affectionate.

As everyone stands up, you bow to the general crowd, and greet them back, but you’re also welcomed by four unknown faces. 

Oh. They must be the new teachers. 

Well, Sohee wasn’t really wrong-

Sohee immediately sparks up and begins talking about how you had really high fever, and every evening she found you lying inside your bed, covered in blankets like a burrito, messy in snot and sweat-

“Okay, that’s enough. Sohee, please spare them the details of my ugly illness.” You’re embarrassed and quite red all over, and out of the corner of your eye, you’re watching the reactions of the four new men. Sure, you may not care much about what other people think, but it’s your first impression after all. Everyone is quite vehemently cooing at you now, and the four men have confused, but concerned expressions on their faces. 

Minseo comes to the rescue, when she diverts the topic to introduce the new faces to you, and you’re grateful for the first time to hear about these new teachers. 

“This is our sunbae, Y/L/N Y/N! She’s one of the first teachers at Sebong Elementary School.” “Aaah, Minseo-yah! You make it sound like she’s old!” Sohee scolds, but you don’t mind. You sure feel old after the way that fever broke your immunity like a twig.

“Aah, sorry. And Y/N Unnie, these are our new joinees this year!” She gestures towards the men, and they bow. You bow in return, and take a full look at them, smiling back at them. 

“Hello! I’m Lee Chan, I’m a ‘99 liner! I’ll work hard and show my best side to you, sunbae!” “Good morning! I’m Boo Seungkwan. Nice to meet you!” “Oh, sunbae, hello! I’m Kwon Soonyoung, I’m also glad to meet you Y/N-ssi!” “And I’m Lee Seokmin! I’ll work hard, please take good care of me, sunbae!” They shake your hands like dominos, and your eyes linger a second too long on the last one, the tall one with the brightest smile. 1000 watt seems about right? “I’m happy to meet you too! Let’s work hard for a long time!” You smile back, and there’s a collective Fighting! through the room, before the school bell rings, and the cacophony of kids entering their classrooms breaks the silence of the school building. 

_

It’s lunchtime, and you’ve already forgotten their names. Sohee insists that you sit with them at the same table for lunch, but you’re not hungry enough to take lunch. It’s been a tiring day, and you just want to sip your iced americano and finish the pending work on your desk in the staffroom. Missing a week of school is as burdensome for teachers as it is for students. There are piles of things left to be done, and you assign yourself the task of finishing filling in the register with the names of the students for that lunch break. The staffroom is empty, and you’re happy to work in peace. 

You’re so focused on your work that you don’t even notice when a tall man walks into the staffroom sometime in the middle of the lunch break, peeps at you from his desk at the other corner of the room, and then leaves. 

_

It’s finally Friday, and that’s how you’ve spent the last four lunch breaks. You’re finally getting through the pile of work at a steady pace. On top of it all, the Principal has promoted you to the Head Teacher of Science Department, as the previous head’s tenure is over, and that means all the science teachers have to approve their lesson plans for this term through you and you’re also in charge of allotting field trips for scientific experiments. 

That’s why Lee Seokmin ambushes you when you’re about to leave at the end of the school day. “Sunbae, I was wondering if you could perhaps look at my lesson plan once? Maybe you could go over it during the weekend?”

You halt your actions of packing your bag, and carefully take the folder from the outstretched hand of the tall man towering over your desk. “Umm, I could look through it now.”

“No, I mean! I’m sorry I didn’t know how to approach you earlier, Sunbae. I’m sorry, I don’t want to keep you from heading home, I’m really sorry-”

“Please stop apologising, Seokmin-ssi. It’s not a big deal. It’s better for me to go through it now in your presence, rather than take it home. I’ll be able to discuss it more smoothly with you then, in case any changes are needed.” 

His puppy brown eyes become tiny slits as he smiles wide. You realise that his hair is draping over his forehead in black curls, and the white shirt he’s wearing reveals the column of his neck very elegantly. He does look good enough to be an idol, you think. 

“Seokmin-ssi, come take a seat here. I won’t bite, in spite of what you may have heard-”

“Oh no! The kids are all praise for you. I’m so thankful to be succeeding you in the classes, because you’ve set such a strong foundation for the students. You’ve made my job a cakewalk, truly.”

“I’m just thankful that you deal with the younger ones now. I enjoy teaching them, but sometimes they can…” You smile lopsidedly, and Seokmin grins. “I’ve heard that I have a lot of patience, sunbae…” “And you have a lot of fighting spirit that we tend to have when we’ve just joined the school. You’ll manage.”

And then the conversation halts. It flows in bits and pieces, as you flip through his lesson plan and discuss changes with him, speaking from experience of having taught these same classes six years more than him. His lesson plan book is very colourful, filled with stickers from cartoons, and brightly drawn smiley flowers. Something in you makes you think that maybe he’s not just doing this as a show for the kids, but also because he likes to do it. He’s very animated in every statement he makes, hand gestures all over his face, but he quietens down when he realises you’re no longer looking at his face, and would rather just get through the work quickly. You’re not annoyed at him, no. It’s just a little overwhelming to see all this energy being thrown at you, and it makes you tired, wondering how to reciprocate it. So you just silently finish your task, and bid him goodbye. He offers to drop you home, but then you say you have your own car, so he gives you another smile and with a natural ease, hops on to his electric bicycle and rides off into the road. 

_

Seokmin-ssi, you realise, doesn’t want reciprocation. He greets you cheerfully every morning, whenever you see him in the campus, whenever you’re making eye contact before leaving for the day, and whenever you both arrive at the same time at school. He doesn’t just say hello, but he also asks if you had a good weekend, if you had a good sleep, if you ate breakfast, if you’ve recovered fully from your cold, if you’re taking your vitamins. It makes you more uncomfortable than before, confusing you whether he’s just buttering you up as a sunbae or whether he’s genuinely this nice. It’s also a little worrying because it makes you feel like he’s trying too hard to be close and you don’t want to be a bother for him, so you hope he takes the hint. But he obviously doesn’t, because the next time you walk into the staffroom determined not to leave your desk, and instead enjoy the peaceful solitude of the staffroom to recharge your battery, you notice a very neat lunch tray sitting on your desk with a note attached on top, “Sunbae, please don’t skip your meals!” It takes you aback, and you stare at it for a good four minutes. Finally you realise you’re too flustered to eat it, and you just keep it aside and get back at your work. 

When Seokmin comes back from his lunch break, he makes the mistake of looking at your desk to see if you’ve eaten, and there. He makes eye contact with your razor sharp eyes looking at him from above your reading glasses. He walks up to your desk and says, “You didn’t eat, sunbae?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I- I- just wanted to-”

“Firstly, Seokmin-ssi, I’m not skipping meals. Secondly, I don’t know if this is normal for you, but I’d appreciate it if we could be harmonious as colleagues. I don’t need you to be my mother for me and feed me. I’m an adult and I know when to eat.”

You can see him gulp and fumble, and for a second, you think you’ve been too harsh. You almost backtrack and apologise, scared that the little light in his eyes is going to go out, but he speaks faster, “I just don’t want you to fall sick again, sunbae. I’m sorry if I was too presumptuous. I’ll do better from now on.” And without another second, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you speechless. The light in his eyes may not have gone out, but you sure were too mean. Afterall, he was just being nice to you, wasn’t he?”

_

So, the next week, when you’re finally on track and completed all your pending work, you walk into the cafeteria looking to take a lunch break. And you spot Seokmin sitting with Chan on one table on the teacher’s side of the cafeteria. Chan is a sweet boy, and you want to make amends with Seokmin, so you carefully walk across the room to their table and ask, “Can I have lunch with you?” You ask them both, and Chan instantly begins to clear space for you to sit down, but you’re distracted by how wide Seokmin smiles, and you know the ice has melted. He’s forgiven you, so you gently sit down next to him.

It’s a mistake. You hadn’t accounted for how broad he is, and how much he moves his body while speaking. His thighs inch closer to yours with every movement, although very much unconsciously. Even though you’re both sitting, he’s still taller than you, and it makes you shy.

You’re thankful when Soonyoung joins you across the table and you can distract yourself by speaking to him. “Sunbae, it’s so nice to see you in the cafeteria! We rarely ever see you outside the staffroom.” You smile as wide as you can, your mouth full of food. Chan joins in, “Yes, sunbae! Seokmin hyung’s been so-” “We’ve all been worried,” Seokmin interjects, and you’re hit by a pang of guilt. It is pretty natural for coworkers to care about each other. Especially since you’re their senior and they must be looking to make a good impression. 

“I’ve been a little busy with all pending work. The start of the year can be stressful for us senior teachers.”

“I hear Seungkwan hyung is being put in charge of the after-school creche duty?”

“You’ve heard right, Chan. He did apply for it, and given his congenial personality, I think he’d do well if he joined the creche roster.”

“A roster? That means he won’t have duty every day?” Soonyoung asks you.

“Yes, there will be two teachers alternating from Monday to Friday.”

“Oh! Someone lucky gets two days only!”

“We try to ensure even distribution through the month,” you say. “Plus, of course, there can be others volunteering from time to time. So for example, next month, there’s a storytelling week at the creche. Sohee and I will be volunteering for that week as storytellers- that way, the ones responsible for the creche can have a week’s leave from the extra duty.”

Soonyoung and Chan nod in understanding, but you’ve noticed Seokmin is extra quiet, uncharacteristically even. “Do you enjoy the cafeteria food, Seokmin-ssi?” you ask him, speaking softer so that Chan and Soonyoung can’t hear you. It must surprise him, because he looks up at you with wide, boba eyes, and he looks more like a puppy than ever. “I do! The variety is good.” “I’m glad. The caterers recently got changed. The previous ones were seriously falling behind on quality.” Seokmin smiles and eats a big bite of rice and soup, and you chuckle at the comical way his mouth fills up. 

_

You didn’t even think Seokmin would remember. In fact, you’d forgotten that you’d mentioned it yourself. 

But he does. He doesn’t just remember, but he also brings a bag full of old picture books.

You swear your heart stops the moment he enters the hall where the after-school creche is organized and hands you the bag. “These were books my mother had kept for ages even after I’d finished reading them a million times. Thought I’d use them somehow, instead of just letting them gather dust on shelves,” he says as he smiles that pretty, wide smile again. It’s been long enough into the new semester now for you to get used to both Seokmin’s smiles, so you can bask in it. The children bask in it too. Most of the tiny members of the creche know him from the class where he’s teaching about animals, and they squeal in excitement. “Aah, Seokmin-ah, you really didn’t have to. You could’ve gone home and rested for the weekend.” His smile drops, and you mentally slap yourself. You really should take care of your words better, so you rephrase it, “What I meant is… you don’t have to do this out of your way.” “I’m not… going out of my way. I just thought I’d come and watch you, sunbae. I want to learn how to handle little children even better.” 

So he sits in a corner of the hall, Byul and Jiwon sitting on his lap, while his eyes are fixed on you. You’ve taken the storytelling class two days this week, and this is your third day, so you really shouldn’t be so slippery, but something about how he’s looking at you so intently is making you stumble and fall over your words, and your pronunciation often comes out as jumbled as the three year olds sitting in front of you. You’re made even more aware of Seokmin’s presence when snack time arrives, and the kids are too distracted with the picture books to pay attention to their food and eat. Thankfully, Seokmin uses his charm and somehow gathers everyone to sit in a circle around the table. The children have incessant questions, some about the characters they met in the story, and some random questions too, like Are you married, Teacher Seokmin? It doesn’t matter that you pause in your movements to hear his response, a wide-eyed Minhyun looking confusedly at you, wondering why your hand holding his candy is stuck mid-air. It also doesn’t matter that your heart paces up when you see Seokmin glance in your direction before loudly proclaiming that he’s not married. 

The parents arrive soon after that, and then there’s only a crying Byul left, who’s wrapped in Seokmin’s arms as you three wait for her father to arrive. You wonder for a second, how did you ever handle kids, because when you see how Seokmin handles them, you think you’ve done it all wrong for years. He holds her two tiny hands in his own, places her in between his legs and quietly brushes her hair while whispering more imaginary stories about the elephant Byul saw earlier in the picture book. You feel unwanted in this perfect scene, Byul going perfectly silent as she listens to Seokmin talk. But then, honestly, who wouldn’t be in rapture of this beautiful young man?

Byul’s father arrives twenty minutes later, and Byul gives Seokmin a little peck on his cheek before she leaves his arms and goes off with her dad. 

“Sunbae, thank you for letting me be here! I had so much fun, and I also learnt so much from you.” You laugh, “I doubt, though. You’re such a natural with children.” He smiles, “That’s just because I have a lot of cousins. But it’s different handling kids at school. I always have to be extra-careful with them because I’m a complete stranger and not a relative.” “You’re right, and that shows in your care too, Seokmin-ah.” He blushes, and you smile as you lock up the hall and finally make your way to leave the campus. Your back hurts from sitting on the floor for so long and you’re surely glad to go home.

“Sunbae, did you bring your car?”

“Aah, no. Today was Sohee’s carpooling turn, she left early. I’ll just take the bus.”

“Let me drop you home, sunbae! It’s late already.”

You pause, and turn to look at him. His hopeful face, still radiant after the long day. And you feel that same overwhelming feeling take over you. Till now, Seokmin has only given and given, never expecting anything in return. He’s extended a helping hand without you asking for it, he’s reminded you for meals even when you’ve ignored him, he’s been nothing but kind to you. And if he’s doing this even after three whole months of him joining the school, then it can’t be just buttering tactics. 

“I don’t want to get you late, Seokmin-ah.”

“I won’t, sunbae. It’s not a worry, honestly.” He bites his lower lip, his eyebrows furrowed as he asks you again, “Please let me drop you, sunbae.”

It’s been years since a man has been this kind to you. Kind enough without coming off as a creep. A part of you is wary, but something in Seokmin’s eyes makes you feel guilty for ever mistrusting his intentions. 

“Alright, Seokmin-ah. Noona owes you one.” 

You can see the stutter in his eyes even before you hear it in his voice. 

“N-noona? Oh. Noona! I’ll drive you safely!”

And he does. Diligent, puppy-like, kind Seokmin drives you home quickly and safely. For the first time in years, you sleep with a smile on your face.

_

You enter the Principal’s office to find a very nervous-looking Seokmin standing next to the Principal. “Good Morning, Mr. Han. Is something wrong?” “Yes, good morning Y/N. I’ve just received a complaint from a parent, and as the head of science teachers, I’d like you to look into it once.” “Of course.”

Then you turn towards Seokmin, who is standing very upright, but you can see him nervously twitching his feet. “Seokmin-ssi, is the parent here in school, or have you received a written complaint?” Seokmin’s voice is barely audible the first time he speaks, so you take a couple of steps to be closer to him. “Don’t be so nervous. Please tell me everything so that I can help resolve this.” He looks at you, his eyes still wide, and the tension obvious in his face. But he takes a deep breath and says, “They’re here, in my science classroom.” “And can you tell me the gist of the matter?” “I… I… I had asked her daughter to not draw with crayons on the walls of the science classroom. And one time… I’d asked her daughter to bring more nutritious food to class instead of chips every single day.” He says softly, his eyes focused on the blue linoleum tiles on the floor. You take a deep breath. As you’ve grown more senior, you’ve eventually detached yourself from the classes of the youngest students, those below four years of age. So naturally, you’d not gotten into messes like this for a long time. But with your experience, you know just how to deal with such cases. 

So you excuse yourself from the office and walk down to Seokmin’s homeroom, gesturing him to enter as you both walk into the classroom. It is deserted, except for a very grim-looking gigantic woman standing next to a tiny girl with even tinier braids. “Good morning. I’m Y/L/N Y/N, Head of the Science Department.” “Yes, well, I’m hoping you’d be more competent about it all rather than Mr. Lee here.” 

You forcefully smile tightly and ask, “Please let me know the details of the matter.” “Where do I begin! Mr. Lee has been… very dictatorial with my daughter. First he forbids her from colouring, and then he forces her to starve herself! It’s absolutely ridiculous that a teacher can do such things!” Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokmin shrink further away into the corner, his eyes wide. 

“Based on how well I know Mr. Lee, I can’t imagine him forcing a child to starve themselves. Correct me if I’m wrong, but did he ask her to bring a different set of food for lunch, rather than chips?” “Yes, but-” “And that was purely based on nutritional concerns, Ma’am. As teachers at Sebong Elementary School, we want to ensure our students receive proper nutrition at their growing age. And I can assure you that chips are not the most nutritious food your daughter can eat every day.” “I’m a working mother-” “I’m sure you can buy a fruit or toast a single slice of bread along with a slice of cheese along with the chips, if you’re so busy.” 

 The woman in front of you stands speechless for a second, before continuing in her boisterous tone, “But who are you to dictate what I feed my child?” “Nobody, truly. But Mr. Lee is a kindhearted man, who cares for every child in this school, and even his colleagues and peers like me. As a teacher, he has the best interest of his students in mind, you see.” “Certainly can’t be more than that of her mother.” “Of course, which is why I’d advise you too, as would any other paediatrician, that only chips is not the diet a four-year old child should be exposed to on a daily basis.” 

The woman takes a step back. Her grip on her daughter’s fingers loosen, and the child takes a step forward. “Miss, I really like the grapes Mr. Lee gave me the other day! That’s why I’ve stopped eating Eomma’s lunch!” She smiles at you, and you bend down on your knee to meet her at eye level. “Is that so? But darling, you should always eat what your mummy’s giving you. Good girls don’t skip meals, understood?” She nods her little head very seriously, so you pat her once on her head. Then you stand up again and look at her mother. “I see your daughter does enjoy eating grapes. Perhaps you could buy her some fruits for lunch.”

She tilts her head a little bit, looking fully like a kid who’s been punished for being too outspoken, and honestly you’re glad to have made that effect. Some people can be so entitled and so rude, and it leaves such a harsh impression on softer teachers like Seokmin. Which is exactly what you see when the parent does leave with her child a few minutes later, as the man, who hasn’t spoken a single word since entering the room, comes up to you gingerly. 

“Noona, thank you so much. I was so- so scared.” You smile at him as warmly as you can, “Please don’t be. It wasn’t your fault at all that some parents can misunderstand even the best intentions of teachers. It’s pretty common- as time goes on, people will just find more flaws, whether it be in your teaching skills or your child-handling skills. You just need to be less nervous when things like this happen. If you ever need help in these things, of course I’m always here… as are your other seniors. But it’s best if you learn to handle these things without taking them too much to your heart, unless you see there is genuine room for improvement for you.” He nods throughout, and his eyes have become round like a puppy’s eyes again. “I will introspect, Noona.” He laughs a bit, “This honestly isn’t the first time someone’s misunderstanding my intentions. But I will try harder to be more clear and not … not be presumptuous,” he says, looking deep into your eyes, before he bows and leaves the room.

As you stand there in the classroom, alone you realise that the situation oddly reminds you of a similar conversation you had with him at the beginning of the semester. When you’d asked him to keep his distance and not interfere … all while, he was just trying to be kind. Oh god. You’d been just as rude as the parent had been today, hadn’t you? Oh dear god. No wonder he’d looked so downcast and rejected after that.

_

Sohee’s thousand-day anniversary at the school is coming up so Minseo’s put on a surprise party at her house. It’s not a surprise to just Sohee, but also to you. “Oh, why didn’t you let me know earlier, Minseo-yah?” “We would, but you’ve just been so busy with the end of term reports and grades that we didn’t want to bother you.” “Well, that’s not something only I’m doing. I’m sure you all were busy too.” “But none of us are head of departments, you know?” She giggles, and you know it’s not a jibe. But it still feels bad to not be able to contribute when everyone is contributing in some way or the other. 

So you order a six-pound blueberry cheesecake for the party, knowing blueberry to be Sohee’s favourite flavour. And, as expected, it’s a party hit. It turns out to be the favourite flavour of a lot of people, even Seokmin, who helps himself to three slices, and you’re just glad to see them all enjoying it. There’s drinks, pizza and music playing in the background. And although the teacher community at Sebong Elementary School is not too big, you’re a lot of twenty-six people, and you’re thankful that Minseo comes from a rich family that has a big house. And yet, it feels cosy and familiar. You barely attend parties or social gatherings,  and unless it’s family occasions, having been out of the dating scene for years. But this type of party seems fun to you- perhaps it’s you growing old, perhaps it’s you no longer finding staying up late exciting, perhaps it’s you realising that getting wasted is not as interesting as you used to think it was in college. So you settle for being the woman who’s dressed in a sweater although it’s barely autumn, already mentally classified as a spinster for almost everyone you meet, thirty and with no life outside of work, and you’re happy. You’re happy right now, sipping a cocktail and eating the fried chicken Minseo’s airfrying and constantly supplying to the party, celebrating your closest friend, Sohee. You know that although Sohee’s a couple of months younger than you, and definitely has a more active love life, she’s just like you at heart, and she’s the sister you’ve never had. As she gets drunk (you can tell it’s the first time in a long time by the way she’s getting tipsy even faster than she usually does), she leans over to smooch you loudly on the cheek, and you laugh and give in to her. It creates a loud wave of cheers across the room, but it’s such a warm moment. She clinks her glass with yours and rests her head on your shoulder, while raising a toast to the teachers at Sebong Elementary School. There’s another round of cheers, and then your phone reminds you it’s ten pm, and you should be heading home because it’s a school day tomorrow. The buzz feels good, and you want to stay longer, but you’re not drunk enough to forget your responsibilities. And so the party gradually disperses. You hug Minseo and thank her for organising the wonderful party, and somehow Sohee manages to stand up on her feet steadily. Seungkwan takes the duty to drop Sohee home as he lives near her house, and before you can say anything, Seokmin takes on the responsibility of dropping you home. 

“I don’t want to impose-” “But I insist, Y/N Noona.” “Why do you always insist, Seokmin? I feel like I’m a burdensome sunbae, not a nice sunbae.” You try not to pout when he leads you to where his car is parked and opens the door for you. He giggles, his face red with the dopamine (and drinks) from the party. “You’re just fishing for compliments, Noona. You know I never think of taking care of you as a burden.” 

Perhaps drinking that third cocktail was a mistake. 

But you did drink it, so you lean over the centre console of the car and say, with a soft giggle, “If you say things like that, Seokmin-ah, people are going to misunderstand and think you like like me.”

“But I do like like you, Noona.” 

You almost miss his words while waving goodbye to the other teachers standing on the pavement in front of Minseo’s house, waiting for their rides. 

Almost. 

“What?” You spin your head so fast it gives you whiplash, and you feel like you’re instantly sober, the way you become alert instantly. Seokmin’s looking at the road as he drives into the main road, his eyes bright by reflecting the street lights. “I do, Noona.”

“No- no, you can’t. Are you serious, Seokmin-ah? Because if you are, you can’t.” 

“Why?” 

There’s a red light, and he’s looking at you, the street lights shining on his face and the gentle handsomeness of his features are glowing in their full glory. This isn’t the first time you’ve found him awe-strikingly beautiful, but right now, he looks positively angelic. His eyelashes form delicate shadows on his cheeks, and the way his hair gets swayed by the wind coming in from the open car windows makes him seem even prettier. 

“Because… you’re so… young. And fresh, and beautiful. And I’m thirty, I spend my days working and my nights reading romantic classics, and I’m so boring a-and you deserve better.”

His mouth twists bitterly, and he says, “But none of that is true, Noona.”

“It is, Seokmin-ah. You barely know me.”

“But I want to. I’m just asking for a chance.”

You stay silent for a long time. In the sparse traffic of the night, you’re reach your house quicker than you’d thought. 

“I don’t want you to make a mistake, Seokmin-ah. I shouldn’t be someone you like more than simply as a sunbae.”

He pauses, then replies, “If you don’t want to give me a chance, that’s okay Noona. I can make peace with it. But you can’t ask me to stop liking you, Noona. My feelings are mine.” 

You don’t say anything on the rest of the journey. You don’t have anything else to say. You can’t even be harsh to him because what he’s saying is logical. You cannot take away his right to like you, even if you don’t think it’s the right choice for him. You’re an adult, he’s an adult, you both have your own opinions and choices. 

It’s only when the car does reach your house that you attempt to say something. 

“I feel sorry for making you come all the way to my house to drop me. Do you want to come in to eat something? I had some dakgalbi made for tonight’s dinner before I got to know about the party.”

He looks at you for a long time. You can see the wheels turn in his head, before he says, “Okay.” 

_

Your flat is on the third floor, so you’re patiently climbing the stairs. Seokmin makes light conversation, breaking the ice, and you actively try to respond. You don’t want him to feel dejected, but you also don’t want to feel like you’re taking him to your house because you pity him after you outright rejected him. 

Your efforts go to waste when you see a figure sitting on the floor in front of the door to your apartment. 

“Hyungwon?” 

Seokmin pauses behind you, as you stand stunned on the last staircase before the landing, and the man you addressed looks up at the two of you. Even in the dim light of the single bulb lighting up the stairwell, you can see that he’s very wasted. “Y/N-ah! I- I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you haven’t changed, have you? Straight to the point. No hellos, no-”

“Yes, Hyungwon. What are you doing here?”

He sighs as he stands up. “I missed you.” 

Your head starts to spin. It’s like you’ve been transported back to 2022, when Hyungwon had confessed to you that he’d gambled away all your money, and that he’d been doing so for the last seven months, and that was where he was spending all his evenings at instead of the evening college you’d enrolled him into and whose fees you thought you’d been paying.

Your head spins again, and you’re stumbling back until someone catches you midway before you tumble down the stairs. 

“Noona!” that someone whispers in alarm in your ear, and you realise it’s Seokmin. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, not Seokmin. 

Why does Seokmin, out of all people, have to see this?

“Seokmin-ah, leave-”

“Ooh, who’s that?” Hyungwon takes a step closer, and takes a drink out of a soju bottle he’s holding in his left hand. “Boyfriend? You’re still into pretty boys, aren’t you?”

Seokmin pulls you closer to him, your back nearly touching his chest. “Who are you?”

“I’m Hyungwon, Y/N’s first love. You better get out of here, kid.”

“What do you want, Hyungwon? Don’t bullshit with me about missing me. No apology, no regrets, and now you’re suddenly at my doorstep?” You carefully break away from Seokmin’s gentle clasp, and walk towards your ex-boyfriend. “You want my money again.” The lanky man in front of you grins, that fucking lazy, pretty grin you’d fallen so hard for in college. 

“Y/N, where’s the love gone, jagi? Why are we talking about money?”

“Fuck off, Hyungwon. The love was gone long before I even broke up with you.”

He lifts his free hand and tries to reach out to you. “Jagiya-”

“I’m not your jagiya! Hyungwon, I’m not giving you anymore money, so you should just leave! And stop coming to me every time you want money, for god’s sake! We’re done, Hyungwon.” 

The man in front of you falls to his knees, “Please, I’m begging you, Y/N-ah! I’ll get into serious trouble if I don’t repay this debt by the end of this month! Y/N, for the sake of old times-”

“Hyungwon, please don’t! I’m not giving you any of my money, no matter how much you beg.”

His hand wraps around your leg, “Y/N-ah, please, just hear me out once! I am sorry for everything I did, and I’m so willing to amend my ways-”

“Please leave, Hyungwon-ssi, you’re making Noona uncomfortable.” Seokmin suddenly says from behind you, and you walk backward down the stairs until you’re again close enough to him that you can feel his body heat on your back. It makes you feel oddly safe.

“Who are you to say anything about Y/N, huh? You don’t even know her for long, I bet! Y/N and I dated for seven years!”

“It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known her, Hyungwon-ssi. What matters is that right now, she feels safe with me, and not around you. So please leave, Hyungwon-ssi.” You don’t even realise when his hands have come to wrap gently around you, not quite touching your body, but caging you away from the man who’s looking at you both with frantic and desperate eyes. You don’t know he knows that you’re feeling safe around him, but you’re so grateful. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll have to call the police, Hyungwon-ssi.”

The man in front of you gulps. “Fuck! I’ll be back, Y/N-ah. And then I’ll see where this boyfriend of yours will be!” And he storms down the stairs, cursing under his breath, and you’re still shaking in Seokmin’s grip. 

Five minutes pass before he asks you, gently whispering in your ear, “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You slowly turn around and face him. You’re awfully close to him, and as you stand on the higher staircase, you’re eye-to-eye with him. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, Seokmin-ah.”

“No, Noona. I’m just upset thinking of what would happen if I hadn’t come up with you here tonight.”

“No, don’t be. He’s… harmless. He’s all talk and no action.”

“Has he been here before?”

You bite your lip. You don’t want to tell him things which will involve him deeper into this. He doesn’t know anything, he’s a complete stranger to it all, and yet, he is right, you do feel safe around him. But that doesn’t mean you burden him any further.

“Seokmin-ah, I don’t want you to get worried about this. I can take care of myself, it’s just Hyungwon. Like I said, he’s only bark and no bite.”

“Noona-”

“I’ll be fine, honestly! I’m sorry you had to see all this happen.” 

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he becomes silent again. 

“Do you want to come in-”

“No, Noona. I’ll just leave. I won’t take any more of your time. Have a good night, Noona.”

“Seokmin-ah, pl-”

“Goodnight, Noona. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then he walks away, and you’re left there, unarmed, uneasy and all alone, swimming in your own thoughts. You feel like you should run after him like in the movies, and stop him from leaving, but your legs feel like lead. There’s a sinking feeling in your heart and a sense of emergency, and it’s not because your ex-boyfriend came up to your door asking for money to waste again.

_

You don’t go to school the next day. The day after that is a Saturday, thankfully a holiday, and you can spend a day moping in regret, stuffing popcorn into your face and pretending like you’re not an adult anymore and you can live without worrying about responsibilities and keep time standing still. 

It doesn’t work. 

Sohee arrives to your door on Sunday morning, sunglasses perched on her head. “Where have you been, sweetie?” She doesn’t wait for you to respond and shoves herself into your flat. 

“Nowhere, Sohee.”

“You’re pouting, your bed isn’t made, and I can smell caramel popcorn. Something’s up. Tell me, baby.”

She sits down on the couch, pulling you down next to her, and taps twice on your shoulder prompting you to spill. So you do spill. 

You tell her every thought that has crossed your mind these last 48 hours. How Seokmin confessed that he likes you. How you’d turned him down instantly. How Hyungwon had turned up at your door and ruined the night after the party. How you’d practically shooed Seokmin away although he’d been nothing but protective and helpful to you. How you’d wallowed in regrets since then, having realised that you’re such a coward. 

“Yeah, you are a coward. In what right mind would you turn down Seokmin when you’re so down bad for him?”

“Huh?”

“Dummy. You can’t even realise your own feelings, and you act like you’re so mature. Age is truly just a number,” she sighs before digging into your bowl of popcorn. 

“I don’t… I don’t have feelings for Seokmin.”

“What makes you think so?”

“He’s… he’s just a hoobae.”

“So are Chan and Soonyoung and Seungkwan. Why do you always blush when you talk to Seokmin, even if it’s over something as mundane as lunch? Why do you so often go to his classroom and aid him in his lessons during your free periods, even though he doesn’t necessarily ask for it? Why do you talk more to him than to your other hoobaes?”

You stay silent for a second. 

“Y/N-ah, think carefully about this.”

“I shouldn’t think of him in this light… he’s so much younger.”

“You’re just three years older than him, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re so old!”

“But…”

“Oh fuck, this isn’t about age, is it? You feel like you’re going to be to him what Hyungwon became to you? Predatory?”

You’re left silent again. Sohee understands from your (lack of) actions, and jumps across the couch to hug you. “Oh, Y/N-ah. Stop beating yourself up for that. It’s been so, so long. Stop blaming yourself for something that’s not even your fault.” 

“But Seokmin deserves better, don’t you think?”

“And you deserve better than beating yourself over an ex like Hyungwon. You deserve a second chance at love too, baby.” She hugs you tightly, and you don’t know when tears have started rolling down your cheek.“I’m a coward, Sohee. I can’t get the courage to even accept my feelings.” “Then let Seokmin help you. Honestly, with the way he always looks at you like you spin his earth and you’re his god, I don’t think he’ll have any issues waiting for you to realise your feelings.” You blush and hide your face in her neck at her sly words. She’s too outspoken for her own good. 

“What if it’s just a crush for him, that’ll pass soon? There’s not much about me that will keep him interested in me after a few months.”

“You’ve got to stop being so pessimistic. Again, just because one guy was stupid and decided to rip off your hard-earned money and your blind trust in him, doesn’t mean another guy will! I’ll say it again, you deserve a second chance!”

The doorbell rings right then. You get up to open the door, to find a letter on the doormat. 

“It’s from the local police station.” You pick it up and show Sohee, who’s equally confounded as you are. “Well, open it, girl!” 

It’s a letter stating a level one restraining order has been requested for your protection against Chae Hyungwon, who has repeatedly disturbed you while drunk, and demanded money for illegal gambling purposes. 

And the request has been made from Lee Seokmin.

“So you just have to sign it and that’s it? Hyungwon out from your life forever?”

You nod, unable to reply, you’re still shocked by the letter. So is Sohee, it seems. Because all she can manage is, “Wow. Y/N, you’ve gotta marry him.”

“Who?!”

“Seokmin, of course. If this is his level of devotion-”

“You don’t think this was unnecessary?”

“Y/N, are you for real? He’s literally looking out for you and doing what you should’ve done ages back, and you think he’s overstepping boundaries? He’s one gem of a person seeing that he’s doing all this without even you prompting him and even after you literally rejected his confession.”

You take a deep breath. She’s right. She’s so right that your heart hurts and you want to bend down on your knees because your body feels limp. How much more does Seokmin have to give you for you to be able to start giving back to him? One voice in your head chastises you. Love isn’t quid pro quo! You fight back. Fair. But at least you’ve started admitting it is love. The voice laughs at you, leaving you vulnerable. 

“Well, he said yes.”

“What?” You spin your head to look at Sohee who’s holding your phone in her hand. 

“Seokmin. He said he’ll meet you at the park near school. In about an hour.”

“Did you just text him from my phone?”

“I did, for your own good. Because if it were up to you, you would have overthought yourself into a hole you’d dig for yourself and not made a move at all even when he’s literally played all his cards and proved his commitment.”

“Aishh, you’re so annoying,” you playfully shove her. 

“Your annoying friend just wants to see you happy,” she pouts cutely, and you laugh at the face she’s making. 

“Okay, now go get dressed. You have to finish this game now, Y/N. I’ll drop you to the park.”

_

When Sohee drops you a little far away from the park, kissing your forehead and wishing you fighting!, you find Seokmin already sitting on a bench on a relatively empty side of the park. He looks up at you as you get closer, and you wave at him. You feel so timid, so nervous, just walking up to him, his handsomeness hitting you with full force as you see him in more casual clothes than ever before, knowing that this man, this beautiful man likes you. And he wants you, and he’s proved how far he can go to care for you, even when you’ve rejected his care.

“Noona, how are you? We were worried after you called your day off on Friday.”

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t sick or anything.” You laugh awkwardly. “Just, taking some time to ponder over things myself.”

“Oh.” He sits down on the bench, the loose end of his checked shirt gently swaying in the breeze. 

“And I regret how I acted that night. I’m sorry for being so harsh-” he starts to say something, but you gently put a finger on his hand, and that makes him shush. “I’m not just talking about Thursday night. I’ve been harsh to you ever since the beginning of the year. You’ve been nothing but kind and generous to me. But… time has made me unnaturally wary and I find it so hard to accept attention or even kindness easily. Thus, time and again I’ve pushed you away, yet you’ve kept coming back. It’s true that I didn’t realise your intentions earlier, but I know, deep down in my heart, that I’ve liked you too for quite some time.”

His eyes are wide, and you move an inch closer to him on the bench.

“I thought it was silly, to have a crush on a man so obviously young like you. I’m thirty now, turning thirty-one in a few weeks. I’ll always be older than you, less energetic, more boring and to be honest, I think it’s not even age but just experience which has made me like this. And I denied myself your attention because I thought you deserved better. And I still do. You sent a restraining request to the police on my ex-boyfriend on my behalf. You… you’ve gone out of your way so many times, even when I’ve been so harsh with you. You’re the one who’s precious, you’re made out of stardust. I’m just a broccoli that’s stacked in the corner of the fridge because no one wanted to eat me when I was fresh and no one should eat me now because now I’m stale.”

“That’s a ridiculous comparison. Even Soonyoung comparing himself to a tiger is better than you comparing yourself to a broccoli.” He finally says, and you laugh before you realise it. 

“Stop calling yourself old, Noona. Three years of an age difference isn’t a big deal. If the reason you’re holding yourself back is Hyungwon-ssi…”

“It is, I won’t lie. Hyungwon and I started dating when we were in college. We were so good, for so long. Until the pandemic came and took his job. That’s when he started getting into these bad habits. He took to gambling, and to stop him, I enrolled him into an evening college, hoping he’d get more productive and use the time we were stuck at home to get himself more educated and get a better job soon. It turned out he was wasting all my money on gambling, again. Every fees I’d paid to him had actually gone down the drain at a local club. And he even had the audacity to refuse me when I told him I want to break up with him.”

“Well, but he eventually did. That didn’t stop him from coming to my doorstep ever three or four months, asking for cash. Sometimes I’d drive him away, sometimes I’d give in if I was too tired to argue with him and if he was sober and dangerous.”

“Would you have given him money that night… had I not been there?”

You look down at your hands in shame. “I may have. I don’t know.”

“Do you still have feelings for him, Noona? It’s okay if you do have feelings, you know.”

“God, no. I don’t have feelings for him. It’s just that… we were together for seven years. We’ve grown up together. Seeing him in a pitiful state like that makes me sad. And I hope each time, that this will be the last time he’s at my door asking for money.” You look away, too ashamed to look at Seokmin. But he uses a hand to gently grip your chin and turn your head towards him. 

“You’re too kind for your own good, Noona.” You blush at the proximity, and the gentle way he’s touching your face. “This is why I like you. Because you’re so human in a world where everyone is plastic. I don’t like you because you’re a sunbae I want to impress. I don’t like you because boys like me find older women hot. Well, I do find you hot-”

“Seokmin!” You haven’t heard someone call you hot in so long, and it makes your skin burn. 

He giggles, and slowly flattens his palm to cup your cheek. 

“I think the restraining order should do the trick, then. He’ll not harass you any longer.”

“Thank you. You’ve been brave when I’ve been a coward.”

“That’s what makes us a good team, Noona.” 

You finally make eye contact with him, gazing into his doe-like brown eyes which are crinkled at the edges with a hint of a smile and wide with hope. 

“Your eyes are so pretty, Seokmin-ah. Just like the rest of you. Especially your heart.”

“It’s pretty because it belongs to you, Noona.”

You blush harder, and turn your face away from him. “I’ll not like you any more if you’re cheesy like this.”

“But it feels good to make you blush like this. How dare you compare yourself to a broccoli, huh? You have no idea what you do to me- when you enter any room, you light it up with your aura, you make it so much warmer, so much brighter. And then a fucking broccoli?”

“Stop! I didn’t mean it to be so deep. It’s just what I ate for lunch because that’s all I had in my fridge.” He giggles again, and you giggle along with him. You realise you’ve both moved closer to each other on the bench, until your thighs are touching. 

“Then you’ve got to have lunch again. No one should exist by eating just broccoli.” 

“With you?”

“If you’d like that.” He cups your other cheek with another hand, and you can feel your skin on fire. His eyes are gently inching towards your lips so you slowly close your eyes. “If you’re going to kiss me, know that I don’t have much experience in that. I’ll be your hoobae in that regard, sunbae.” You hear a soft giggle, and the kiss doesn’t arrive, so you open your eyes again, just to see him blush all over. “God, you’re so pretty, Noona. I could look at you all day.”

“How about you tell me when you started liking me?”

“Umm, I think that time you came to eat lunch with us for the first time? I think it all started with me just trying to get you to eat meals on time. Good girls don’t skip meals, as I heard someone once say,” you playfully hit his chest lightly, and he laughs. “I don’t know, maybe it was before that. But that afternoon, I realised my crush on you was so serious. I was getting tingly all over every time our shoulders touched.”

“Oh! Well, thank goodness it wasn’t just me.”

“Really? From so long ago? Oh, Noona, if you’d just told me earlier…”

“Shh!” You giggle, “I didn’t even realise anything. I was just desperate to get you to forgive me.”

“But I was never angry at you. I could never be.”

You smile again, and he pulls you closer until your entire body is touching him. “So are you giving me a chance, Noona?” 

“Yes. I like you, Lee Seokmin, and I’m still shocked that you like me, after everything you’ve had to see.”

“Well, I do. I like you so much that I might be seeing stars over your head every time you come into my line of sight.”

You giggle again, your insides turning to mush. “Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N Noona?” His voice is, oh, so soft, like a melody. And his eyes so earnest, like an autumn leaf. “I’d be very honoured to, Seokmin-ah.” “May I kiss you?” You feel yourself getting red with anticipation as you quietly nod your consent. 

And so he kisses you. Like your very own Prince Charming, he kisses you, one hand on the back of your neck, and the other cupping onto your cheek, first gentle and slow, and then a little more passionate, as you pull him closer by holding on to his slender waist. “Fuck, Noona. You taste so sweet,” he says while taking a breath, and then attacks your face all over by placing tiny pecks all over your nose, cheeks and forehead. “I like you so much, I think I might die from it.” You laugh once again at his words, unable to say anything else because he’s effectively shut you up through his incessant kisses. When he finally moves his face away from yours, his 1000 watt signature smile bright on his face, you say to him, “Not before we have lunch together, though.”

a/n: read the stories of the other three boys here! lmk your thoughts <3

tagging: kokoiinuts

[isabel-lillah]

Barty and James being friends and Barty standing up for James

James has been officially dating Regulus for six months now. Barty, together with Evan, found out about this roughly four months ago when they came to their dorm to find James sleeping in Regulus's bed.

Barty was reserved at first. He didn't want to be friends with the obnoxious James 'happy-go-lucky' Potter. However, he quickly learned that disgustingly positive and loud persona was really just that. A persona.

Barty isn't sure why James feels comfortable being himself around him and his friends of all people. Evan believes it's Reg's influence - Barty thinks James just realizes that their Slytherin group (and Pandora) are the last people to judge him for not always being energetic or happy. Despite the popular belief, their friend group communicates feeling like shit really well. They're all aware that people are all kinds of fucked up and that a person's upbringing doesn't determine what issues they have.

That being said, he actually grew to like James. He knows he can always get an honest opinion from him and surprisingly good relationship advice. Because apparently James is more observant than he lets on and he clocked in on Barty's crush on Evan within minutes of meeting both of them.

Not to mention he can be just as unhinged as him if he wants to.

On one memorable occasion, he also let James drag him away from a fight which saved him from a long detention.

A detention like the one he's coming back from right now. It's pretty late, but he's not tired, so he decided to take a longer route than usual while walking back to his dorm. And thank fuck for that, because that's how he finds out that Sirius goddamned Black has been giving James shit for being friends with Barty.

"Sirius, I don't want to fight about this. Not again. I know you don't like him, but he is my friend. I don't force you to be friends with him, so why does it bother you?" echoed through the hall which Barty just stepped on. No one noticed him.

"James, it's Crouch. There's nothing good about him. He's crazy. How did you even become friends with him?"

James honest to Salazar looked so exhausted that Barty worried he would just pass out right then and there.

"You know what a free will is, right?" Barty finally decided to announce himself, partly to help James dodge Sirius's last question. This is not how the relationship should be outed to him.

"Crouch," Sirius greeted.

"Crouch Junior," Barty and James replied automatically. Barty will deny to his last breath that James correcting his last name like that made him happy.

"Listen, Black. I don't care that you don't like me. I'm not your biggest fan either. But for the love of Merlin, stop acting like an asshole to your best friend just because he got some new friends and he won't stand up to you properly because he cares about you. You take pride in being a Gryffindor, right? Then fucking act like it, suck up your pride and have a normal conversation."

Sirius looked pissed and James looked...relieved? The guy seriously needs to learn to stand up to his best friend when he's being an asshole, Barty decided.

And if, after leaving, Barty stopped behind the corner of the corridor to listen to James finally putting Sirius off a bit for saying shit about James's friendship choices, well, nobody needs to know.

[cyber-dump-171]

Prologue: Missing

Objection! Stand your ground! Marvelous! (Twisted Wonderland x Reader)

Masterlist | Chapter 1 →

Word count: 3.2 k.

WARNING: N/A

Note: thank you for stopping by and reading! Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“Excuse me, coming through".

You walk down the dim corridor, the sound of telephones and mundane conversations muffled by the large window that separates the common office from the rest of the rooms. You take a quick glance inside and notice that it is emptier than usual, with only a couple of agents sitting at their desks filling out forms, watching the television broadcasting the evening news, or chatting with their cubicle neighbors.

You continue, carefully hugging the old box tighter as you slip past some of your father's co-workers, who greet you quietly before resuming their conversation, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and cigarette smoke clinging to their shirts wafting through the air. You're thankful it's not a stupidly strong cologne like the one James Blanc, one of the junior officers, wears. He puts on too much and it always makes you sneeze.

It reminds you of your male classmates who shower themselves in body spray after gym class, the smell making you dizzy as you sit inside the suffocating classroom.

After a few minutes of walking down the dull, gray hallway, you finally reach your destination, stopping in front of a worn wooden door with a silver plaque that reads a familiar name in faded letters: "Det. Pembroke”. Behind the doorway, you can hear a male and female voice, the latter sounding distressed, though you can't discern what they're talking about. Balancing the cardboard box on one arm, you lift your free hand and rack your knuckles against the solid material.

"Come in, door's open", replies a gruff voice after a couple of seconds of silence. Grunting and mentally begging yourself not to drop the heavy package, your hand quickly finds the handle and turns it urgently, the old wood creaking loudly as the door swings open, giving way to a simple yet messy office.

Tall rectangular metal cabinets and bookcases line the dark green walls, with various certificates and diplomas filling the empty spaces. On the right side of the room is a large display cabinet with various comic book figurines, knick-knacks, trophies and photo frames, displaying some of your family's memorabilia and achievements. On the opposite side of the office, under a rectangular window, is a wooden table with small drawers containing a small coffee pot and water dispenser. 

Your eyes sweep around the room and settle on your father, who sits behind a metal desk, with piles of documents, dirty mugs, a cup full of pens and pencils, and an old laptop taking up space on the surface. Behind it is a large map detailing the geography of your city, Kotohira. You take notice of several colored thumbtacks mark certain areas, though you can't see exactly where they point to.

He lifts his head to acknowledge your presence and his slender finger points to a table hidden in the corner of the room. “Put it there, kid. Careful with that, it's important,” you nod quickly at your father's words and head for the cabinet, pushing aside the manila folders to make room for the box. 

You place the package down with a quiet sigh, using your now free hands to wipe the dust from your button-up shirt, your legs burning as a reminder that it's been hours since you've sat down, too busy running errands and fetching documents around the station. 

Your father's eyes focus again on the woman sitting across from him, and he clears his throat as he continues. “Mrs. Enma, please don't worry, my men are working full-time to solve this case,” he reassures the woman, who nods silently at his affirmation.

Your gaze is drawn to the figure, an old woman you recognize as your upstairs neighbor who lives in apartment 305, Saeki Enma. You have bumped into her and her husband several times, either in the building's elevator or the nearby supermarket. It's strange to see her like this, with her usual warm smile and cheerful laughter replaced by a chagrined expression and puffy red eyes.

However, her reaction is understandable, as her only grandson is now the ninth person to go missing in the last month in Kotohira.

Saeki shakily reaches for her small black leather purse sitting on her lap, her small hands pulling out a beautiful baby-blue silk handkerchief, dabbing the corner of her wrinkled eyes to wipe away the rest of her salty tears. Her lips quiver as she looks down.

"Thank you, Detective Pembroke. My little Yuuken means the world to me, he's a kind and responsible boy. Oh my God... he must be so scared," she breaks down after glancing at the file in front of her, the picture of her grandson quietly staring back at her.

Her hands cover her eyes as her body shakes, the sound of her sobs echoing off the walls of the quiet office. Your father immediately gets up from his swivel chair and places a comforting hand on the old woman's back, while you run to the water dispenser, fill a glass, and hand it to her with a comforting smile.

Saeki accepts it with a sniffle, her trembling hands wrapping around the transparent glass as she sips in silence, her crying ceasing. A few minutes later, she calms down and sighs, gently patting your father's hand as a sign of gratitude. And suddenly, her eyes widen as her attention turns to you. 

"Oh my, (Y/N)! It's good to see you, what are you doing here? I apologize that you have to see me in this state," she laughs weakly, and you can still hear a hint of sadness in her voice. You suspect she's trying to distract herself from the grief of losing her grandson.

In return, you offer a small smile and a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Please don't worry, Mrs. Enma. It's good to see you, too." Your father suddenly slaps a hand on your shoulder with a toothy smile, causing you to jump in surprise as you turn to look at him in confusion.

“Kiddo over here had no plans for the summer, so I dragged them to the station to help out” - bullshit, you did have plans! You were going to spend every day inside, locked in your room with the air conditioning on, sprawled on your bed, and enjoying your free time. Hell, you'd even bought so many books and comics to read during the break! Now they're just going to sit there, gathering dust.

As Saeki finishes her glass of water, she lifts her head to look at the clock, whose hands point to the current time, 8:43 p.m. “My God! I apologize for taking up so much of your time, Detective Pembroke. My husband will be worried, I should be getting home,” she gasps in surprise. As you help Mrs. Enma out of her chair and pick up her cane, your father heads down the hallway, shouting for a nearby officer to help escort Saeki home.

In a matter of seconds, you hear a pair of footsteps running toward the office, and suddenly a young blond policeman stands in the doorway, nervously greeting your father. You remember that his name is Renart, a French cop freshly graduated from the police academy near Chichibugahama beach. The officers at the station call him "Croissant Surfer.”

Renart escorts Mrs. Enma out of the office, but not before she thanks your father again and gives you a warm smile as she bids you farewell. Your father promptly closes the door, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Nine people... nine people just gone," he whispers.

As you walk to the desk, your eyes scan the missing person's report. Yuuken Enma, a second-year student of Hibari Municipal High School disappeared this afternoon after leaving the Ishimoto gymnasium at around 2:30 p.m. He was reported missing by his grandparents who explained that Yuuken failed to pick up his phone and had never arrived home at an agreed hour.

According to witness reports, he was last seen by his fellow kendo club member and first-year student, Koito Saya. The two of them were training for an upcoming kendo match which would take place after summer break ended. 

Koito explains that Yuuken left practice early because "he was feeling unwell and he had to help his grandmother prepare some things for the Tanabata Festival.” The first-year student stayed in the gym for another hour of training, and when he left the facility around 4:00 p.m., he found a keychain from an action figure that belonged to Yuuken on the floor. Minutes later, the Enma's called the police station.

Your fingers grab the corner of the paper and turn the page to read some additional details about the case. This Yuuken boy... the two of you stood together at the bus station, but you never really spoke. You went to different schools, and his appearance and aura communicated that he didn't want to be bothered, so you left him alone. Besides, you're not the most outgoing person, so you never really made a move to befriend him. You only knew of his personality from the comments of neighbors and even your parents; a "charismatic and determined young man.” 

Your eyes land on an evidence report detailing the footage from the gym's surveillance camera. Your eyes widened as you remembered the conversation you overheard in the records room about two days ago about the recent missing persons cases.

According to the officer, all of the nine disappearances have been caught on CCTV, but you can never see who is taking them or where they are going because the recording always glitches.

He described in detail the disappearance of Fígaro Koskela, the young heir to a Finnish jewelry empire, who was walking home from a party organized by his classmates. He's alone, it's the middle of the night, he's strolling down an alley near some residential houses, when all of a sudden his head whips around as he hears a strange noise, the policeman describes the sound as that of a loud roar followed by a cry similar to that of horses.

Figaro's expression morphed into one of shock and bewilderment, paralyzed on the spot as his blue eyes did not look away from where the sound came. At that moment, the camera stops and the footage goes black. Suspiciously, the camera reactivated itself hours later as police arrived on the scene and neighbors peered out their windows and doors to see what was going on.

The officer explained that all the victims disappeared in the same way: they were alone in Kotohira, they heard something, and the camera footage went black, adding that the people who were near where the victims disappeared never heard anything strange. But he also points out that none of the victims have anything in common. Age, appearance, socioeconomic status, even where they live, nothing.

You're jolted out of your trance as your father clears his throat and walks past you, taking a seat in his chair, before turning to face you, the lack of sleep and stress evident due to the dark circles under his eyes. "From the looks of things, I don't think I'll be leaving the office anytime soon. Do you think your mom can pick you up?"

Normally, you would walk home, since the police station is not that far from the apartment building. That, and the night air feels good on your skin, plus, it gives you some time alone to think and take some pictures of the sky and wildlife.

However, because of the recent disappearances, everyone in Kotohira is on edge, including you and especially your parents. This morning, you even received some messages from a few of your school friends who were outraged because their parents wouldn't let them go on their annual trip to the beach for fear that their children would be the next victims.

You nodded at your dad’s request before taking the seat that Mrs. Enma had previously occupied and wasted no time dialing your mother's phone number. Frankly, you were tired and hungry, having accidentally skipped lunch to help the Chief's secretary organize a mountain of paperwork that needed to be archived. Seriously, these guys are a mess.

After a few dials, you hear the sound of the phone picking up and your mother's cheery voice answering from the other end. "Hello, honey! How's my baby doing?" you see out of the corner of your eye as your father chuckles, having heard your mother's cooing over the loud volume of the phone. "I'm fine, Mom. How was your case?"

You can hear your mother gasp in surprise before she giddily recounts the details of the latest case she took on. "Oh, you bet your ass I won it! You should have seen the look on that idiot Howard's face when they declared my client innocent. That asshole always takes the side of dirty money," you laugh lightly at your mom’s colorful words; she has had a fierce rivalry with Vanguard Legal Services’ best attorney, Howard Waltz, ever since college. They even work at competing firms.

Your mother spends a few minutes telling you more details about the case before asking you why you called her. You tell her about Yuuken Enma's recent disappearance and that your father won't be able to take you home due to the heavy workload. 

"Yuuken has disappeared!? Oh, poor thing, I hope they find him soon. Don't worry, darling, I just left the office, I'll be there in about half an hour," after exchanging a few more words, you hang up the call.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You hold your head in your hands, it feels like someone is violently sticking a sharp needle into the left side of your brain and your eyes won't stop throbbing. 'What the actual hell happened? I was doing fine a minute ago.’

Your father had left after the Chief knocked on the door and told him that they were going to have a brief meeting to organize a search party for Yuuken and share some updates on the case. Seconds after they departed and your dad bid you goodbye in case you were gone before he returned, your terrible headache suddenly appeared, and now you feel like you're going to throw up.

“O, thou who were guided by the dark mirror”.

"What was that!? Hello!?" you yell, the chair legs squeaking loudly against the floor as you quickly stand up, your eyes scanning the room trying to find the deep voice that just spoke. Your heart is beating fast, your breathing labored as your hands immediately find a fountain pen sitting on top of some papers, grab it, and point the tip outward to use it as a makeshift weapon. 

‘Are the rookies pulling a prank? Or am I hallucinating? Damn it! This fucking headache is driving me insane!’ You lower your head to look at the gap between the door and the floor, but you don’t see anyone standing outside or hear any movement from the hallway. Before you can continue to examine the room any further, your phone vibrates and the screen turns on, displaying a recent message from your mother alongside other notifications: "I'm outside." 

You waste no time getting your things, slinging the messenger bag over your shoulder, grabbing your sweater off the back of the chair, and throwing the pen away, landing behind your father’s chair. You're tired, you're hungry, you don’t want to deal with whatever prank somebody’s pulling on you, and you want to take care of this headache before it turns into an excruciating migraine. 

You make your way over the door, making sure you stomp your feet as hard as you can to warn whoever is hiding and pulling your hair, to start running before you catch them and kill them. You twist the doorknob and open the door quickly, only to find... the hallway completely desolated and eerily quiet.

This is strange... even if everyone was working, you would hear the noise coming from the offices, but, there is no sound at all. You can’t even hear the wind blowing outside or the droning songs from the cicadas. Your stomach twists into knots, a feeling in your gut screaming at you that something is wrong. You need to get out of there now.

“Let thy heart’s desire reflected in the mirror take thee by the hand”.

Yeah, no, this is no prank. Whatever's going on here is some paranormal shit. 

You don't waste a second as you bolt from your father's office, running down the hallway as fast as you can, never looking back for fear of something coming after you. You groan as your headache begins to worsen, your head now throbbing and your ears ringing loudly as you begin to hear a chorus of unintelligible voices inside your brain.

“In me. In them. In you.”

You pant as you run past the common office, your eyes widening as you find the entire room empty, all the equipment turned off and the chairs scattered around the room as if everyone had suddenly gotten up and gone home. The deep voice rings louder in your head again, its words feeling like mockery. ‘What the hell is going on? Where did everyone go? Dad, please be okay!’

“We all have very little time left.”

"AGH, JUST SHUT UP!" you shout, hoping the voices will go away, but they only get louder by the second. Thankfully, you reach the entrance of the police station, your eyes widening in relief as you find your mother's gray car parked right outside. Swinging the glass door open, you dash towards the vehicle, panic running through your veins.

"MOM! PLEASE! IT'S ME! OPEN THE DOOR!" you slam your right hand against the window as you yank hard at the handle of the locked car door. But as you duck your head to look inside the car, your breath is cut short and you feel your heart come to a screeching halt. The driver's side is empty, not a trace of your mother inside.

You slowly back away from the vehicle in utter disbelief, the voices having stopped, but you don't even notice, too preoccupied with the sudden disappearance of everyone around you. Your attention, however, is drawn to a hellish sound coming from your right. A loud roar, creaking wood, heavy wheels rolling on the pavement, and the whole cacophony accompanied by the cries of horses.

You feel frozen in place as your head turns to the side and your eyes widen at the sudden appearance of a funeral carriage drawn by two elegant horses coming at you at full speed. 

You want to run, to escape from this hellish scene as quickly as possible, to run into your parents' arms. ‘This has to be a nightmare. This isn’t real!’ Every single muscle and nerve in your body is screaming for you to move, and yet something is holding you back. You close your eyes in fear as the sound of hooves comes closer and closer.

You feel nothing as the carriage crashes into you.

“Welcome to Night Raven College, young soul”.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Tag list:

@rotknox

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Can you do rivals to lovers. Idol!wonwoo x idol!y/n (she's a leader) both are dom and rivals from trainee period in same company... Sounds so kinky amd steamy to me👀btw love your blog ❤️ - xoxo

tw: idol!wonwoo, idol!reader (fem), rivals to lovers!au, sexual tension, implied kissing, reader is implied to be shorter than wonwoo, cursing, wonwoo is being a little shit tbh - minors dni.

"Good work today, everyone! Let's rest well for the next performance, okay?"

"Okay!" You hear an enthusiastic reply from your fellow members, beaming with excitement for the upcoming group activities.

You're still buzzing with adrenaline from the comeback stage, a bit worried about whether you'll be able to sleep properly, but it's not enough to stop you from smiling.

You walk in the corridors of the building, gently greeting any passerby staff or idol, be it senior or junior to you. As soon as you turn around the corner to search for the restrooms, you bump into a taller and quite muscular figure.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" You bow profusely, feeling embarrased for not looking.

"Aw, what a great junior, aren't you? Behaving so well towards your senior."

The familiar deep timbre has you on high alert and you instantly straighten your back, your earlier smile completely wiped off your face.

"You."

"Yeah, it's me. Long time no see, huh, Y/N?"

"Why are you here?" You cross your arms defensively.

"Haven't you heard? We just had a comeback and it's already a hit." The man boasts with a smug smirk.

"Sorry, I was busy preparing for my group's comeback. I don't exactly have time to pay attention to other groups."

"That's a shame. You'd love Maestro - I dare say my MV shots would be to your liking."

"What do you want, Wonwoo?" You sigh.

"Hmm, I think that's not how you should address me." Wonwoo places his hand under his chin, pretending to be thinking.

"Cut the crap, we're the same age."

"Ever the clawy one. But it was always part of your charm." He leans closer to you, but you don't waver.

"Nice, you actually have a good memory. Now step aside, I wanna go to the restrooms." You try to push him aside, but he catches you by your wrist.

"But we're having such a nice conversation, don't you think?" He grins.

"No, I actually don't." You spit back.

"Oh, but what have I ever done to you, Y/N? Is it because I got to debut before you?"

"Just because I appreciate your group for the standards you've created doesn't mean I have to appreciate you specifically." You pull your hand back.

"Maybe if you let me kiss you, you'd appreciate me a bit more." Wonwoo chuckles, "Because I'd love to kiss your pretty damn face right now - just to shut you up, though."

"In your goddamn dreams, Jeon."

He leans closer and gently cages you between the wall and his body.

"What a great dream would that be, right?"

"Back off, someone will see us any moment now!" You plant your palms on his chest, using your full strength to push him away. But he doesn't budge an inch.

"No need to be so damn scared, Y/N." He pulls away immediately, "Besides, I'd never want to get caught up in dating rumors with you."

"So much for wanting to kiss me, I guess." You scoff, "Still the same loser when you were a kid."

You walk away from Wonwoo with quick steps, trying your best to calm yourself down.

You can't help but think how infuriatingly handsome and talented he has grown over the years - but also annoying as fuck. Towards you, at least.

Little did you know, the exact same thoughts run laps inside Wonwoo's head as he watches you walk down the corridor.

Kissing you won't be the only thing he'll dream of tonight.

[thisfrailheart]

prompt: unrequited | july 24 | rosekiller | M due to the subject matter - language - sadness | word count: 385 | @rosekillermicrofic

***

"Hogsmeade tomorrow, Rosier?"

Barty grins, waggles his eyebrows as he waits for an answer. Evan's throat feels tight. This has been going on for weeks. He squares his shoulders. "No."

He turns to hide his face and makes himself walk away. He wants to say yes. But Barty doesn't mean it, doesn't actually want him. Not in the same way Evan wants Barty. And once Barty finds out he's not going to have him that way, he'll leave anyway. Best to nip it in the bud right away. Swallow his unrequited feelings and move on. So they do their little dance every other weekend and that's that. Barty asks, Evan declines, the world keeps turning.

But not today. Today, Barty comes after him. Today, he says goodbye to their friends and follows Evan down the corridor. "Hey! Hey, Rosier!"

Evan sighs. Pulls his bag closer to his body because he needs something to hold onto. "I said 'no'. Go away, Junior."

"Why?"

Evan tries to keep his hands from shaking. Tries to focus on his breathing and not Barty walking next to him. "It's your name."

"Why'd you say 'no'?"

Evan stays silent, just keeps on walking. He's too afraid he'll spill his guts all over the stones beneath their feet. Say something he can't take back.

"Oh, come on! You're not going to say anything?"

Evan speeds up. Barty curses and speeds up too, to keep up with him. "Really? You're running? What's so horrible about me asking you to Hogsmeade?"

Nothing. Nothing at all.

"It's not like I'm proposing!"

Evan swallows. His chest hurts.

Barty reaches for his elbow. "I just thought we could have a little fun–"

Fun. Funfunfunfunfunfun. Evan rips his arm away, whirls around. "I'm not going to fuck you!"

Barty's eyes widen. He steps back. The smirk slips off his face.

"That's what dating is about, right? And relationships? Fucking. It's all anyone ever talks about. And I don't– I'm not going to do that, so why waste time pretending? Just find someone else and...and leave me alone."

Evan wants to throw up. Oh no. Nonononono.

Tears burn in his eyes and he turns on his heel. Just wants to get away. His heart races. Why did I say that.

He runs. Barty doesn't follow him this time.