#HE PROBABLY TURNED EVERY MINUTE OVER IN HIS MIND COUNTLESS TIMES

[izel-scribbles]

listening to part 28 at school got me shellshocked soldier meme-ing again.

[dawnwriterimagines]

Innocents among you

Part Two to TRAITORS AMONG US

SIMON RILEY X FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 X FEM!READER

Summary: Your torture is over, but is it really? There is only the torment in your mind now. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the flowers at your hospital bed and the tormentors awaiting the relief of your forgiveness.

Part 3!!

Part 4

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

You flatlined twice, almost as soon as you were handed off to the medics.

Committing themselves to doing CPR before bringing in the defibrillator for an electric charge to your sudden cardiac arrest. "Clear!" They restarted your heart just outside the hallway of your cell, Simon held back by Price as your heart stopped again within the same minute and panic ensued. Johnny and Kyle hearing the news, rushing up towards the hall, their footsteps probably the echo that you held onto as your heart rate picked back up.

Clearly, you lived.

You didn't have the luxury of going comatose immediately after. As you would've preferred.

You'd awoken hours after the medical team carried you off to the infirmary. Still on edge, still plagued by discomfort and cold, despite the lights of the recovery facility and the nurses that paraded around you.

Morphine wears off in about 6 hours, so you were up wailing in agony within the same time. Clearly no one expected you up so soon, but you hadn't slept in days, at least not more than an hour. Jerking up involuntarily, hands all over you to keep you down and steady, you could hear a familiar doctor's attempt to calm you down. But, the blistering pain that radiated from every pore in your body was ringing so loud, a present noise that blocked everything out.

So, at first, you'd been terrified, attempting to clutch onto the first thing you'd woken up to. But, you couldn't move, at least not voluntarily.

With the damage to your spine for countless hours, days, and what you had discovered to be two fucking weeks of endless torture, you'd undergone three difference corrective surgeries that would 'possibly' fix the nerve and circulatory damage done to you. It had left you nearly completely immobile since your admission into the infirmary. The doctors were quite astonished that you were even alive...

The nurses were patient enough with your panicked state to slowly ease you out of your stupor. But, at times it wasn't easy, especially when you didn't even know where you were at first. Since you couldn't see...

You were blind for about four days. Everything a tinted red for a few more after you'd regained your sight.

Fevers plagued you for the week, skin that was raw and inflamed from the severe cold and constant dousing from the pipes, you couldn't move if you wanted to.

The first thing you'd been graced to see were the multiple arrangements of flowers, lilies, white tulips, hydrangeas, roses...typical assortments of regret and remorse.

"Can someone throw these away?" had been your first words.

The nurse who had been checking over your vitals looks over at the flowers, the were all over the desk, even on the floor lining the windows, once they ran out of space to put them. It was beautiful. But, she knew why. Everyone knew why. You were quite famous here in the infirmary, as you were in special unit. "Of course."

They were out within the day. The room bare once more.

And then you saw them outside your infirmary window. Just a glimpse. Around the time you were still getting your sight back.

Seeing them for the first time since everything made bile build up in your throat, a screaming fear that created a pulsing headache.

Kyle, Johnny, Price and...you didn't see Simon.

Price was...a statue. Not moving an inch. His hand against his mouth, covering up the aching distress anyone could see on his face.

Kyle was pacing, back and forth and back and forth. Making an offhanded comment at one of them every few seconds.

But, Johnny was talking, pointing spitefully at someone out of your view.

He was there too then. Simon.

Turning away from the window, you couldn't look at them anymore.

"Don't let them in," you breathe out to your doctor as she sets down a trayed mug on your sliding table as she sits you up to drink a hot cup of tea, which you had requested. "Any of them. Please." You were still so cold, you couldn't imagine dealing with any type of cold weather for a while after dealing with this.

She's confused a moment, before turning to the doorway, where she recalled seeing the four men waiting outside in the hallway. She's seen them just sitting there for days now, they wouldn't beg or argue to come in, they'd just wait. It's not like you were cleared for visitors yet anyway.

Every morning she clocked in for the job, there they were. Sitting there like abandoned children, awaiting the moment the door would open to be welcomed inside.

It was like they never left.

Of course she knew who they were to you. Word spreads fast on the base. Especially for a Task Force as 'famous' as they were around here.

Squeezing your shoulder, comfortingly. Feeling protective, your doctor spoke, "Of course," she slides the mug forward a bit, taking the teaspoon to stir once and lift it to toward your lips to sip. "Blow," she guided.

You did. And sipped.

And it was warmer than any blanket they'd wrapped you in.

---

Prior to being able to trudge around on your own, with the help of a crutch you'd been given to go to the bathroom by yourself finally, the nurses had sponged you down in bed. Your spinal surgeries led to you being at risk if they made efforts to remove you from your bed for anything more than a medical emergency.

Mostly, because you're terrified of the showerhead....and it's pathetic, but no one judges you for it as you opt for a sponge bath every time instead. Even if you're shaking as the water slides down your skin even now. The last thing you needed on top of all this was to develop aquaphobia.

Today was the first day you could do it on you own, limping your way to the bathroom with your crutch. The smell of bleach is much stronger in here, it stings your nose.

You stared at the metal stool left tucked at the side, walking around it as if it would pounce up and attack you, you try not to look at it. You'd been doing well without panic attacks for a few days now, just hold it together.

Taking a breath, you reach out to the handle for the spout, glancing up at the showerhead, before back down. Swallowing thickly when you begin to turn it before pausing, hearing the water rush up the pipe to spill out. Turning it back up just as quickly, shutting off the pipe, you inhale deeply, trembling now, hand up to the chilled tile to steady yourself.

You'll try again, you had to.

Drip...

Drip...

Unable to help yourself, the sudden rush of paranoia that runs through you is terrible, a hoarse cry leaves you. You shove yourself away from the shower stall, back ramming into the doorframe, catching yourself, and away from the showerhead as the water drips, slowly from the faucet.

Drip...

Drip...

As panic tightened its grip around your chest, your breaths quickly turned to short, sharp gasps. The room spinning, colors blurring into a dizzying whirlwind. You turn swiftly, nearly knocking yourself off your feet as the thudding of your own heart startles you, you can hear it in your ears, in your hands, in your feet.

You press a trembling hand to your chest, clawing over the area, trying to slow the frantic pace of your breathing, but it only seemed to escalate. The small room narrowing to a black hole of fear and suffocation, every gasp began to disorient you, turning lightheaded.

As tears welled in your eyes, you collapse against the side wall, sliding down to the tiled floor. Slamming your palm against your chest, once, twice, as hot tears leave streaks down your bruised face, you beg your lungs to expand and wait for your breathing to regulate.

Beginning to sob uncontrollably as you hit yourself in the chest again and again and again, waiting for the moment you found yourself able to breathe.

Why did this have to happen?

You remember the violent swing of the baton against your face, the sting it leaves afterwards, the immediate spotting of bruises forming. The memory startles you, receding back into yourself, back to that day.

"It wasn't me..." you cried loudly, in the empty room. It echoes against the tiles.

Simon wrapping his hands around your neck, staring you down as he squeezed, maliciously. You couldn't breathe as your lover shook with the strength he uses to hold himself back from taking your life.

"I'm sorry," you hiccupped. "I'm--I'm sorry," you're not sure when you crawled yourself into the corner, the lights of the bathroom flickering off dimly from your lack of movement. As you're drowned in darkness, the water dripping from the spout, the cold tile against your skin, it's too much. You scramble upwards, running out of the bathroom.

The automatic lights flicker back on inside, but you're too in your head to notice.

Stumbling down to your knees as you feel the rip of a ruined stitching tearing along your side. "Ah!" comes your startled cry. Making it to the side of your hospital bed, you fist your hand through your sheets, unable to stand yourself up.

Taking pained breaths against the sterile sheets, you bury your head in them, cursing whatever luck you thought you had in this life.

They were your family...

All you had for so many years...

As your breathing slows to distraught, agonized huffs of air, sniffling to yourself as you catch sight of your face in the metal frame of your hospital bed. The dark purple bruises beneath your eyes as the swelling gradually went down, the still bloodshot left eye of yours, the twelve stitches on the left side of your face. So gruesome you knew it would scar you for life, a permanent reminder on your fucking face.

Anger bubbled up inside you at the sight of it. At the memory that would always follow when you'd look at it.

Anger that you hadn't been able to properly feel until now.

Anger that you feared to have until today.

"Are you alright?" the sound of his voice makes you visible tense.

Simon.

He's here.

You don't turn to face him, if you did, you'd revert back to the person you were cowering into moments ago. "The door was open...I just--" he pauses, swallowing thickly. "Lemme help you up."

Hearing his footsteps suddenly moving closer, you speak fast. "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" you scream over your shoulder, tucking yourself further away from him. "Do NOT move."

He stops in his tracks. You catch the sight of him in the metal framing of the bed, he's a blur in the metal, but you notice his mask is gone, he's Simon Riley now, not Ghost as he appeared to you in the interrogation cell.

"Don't you dare get any closer," you spat.

"I heard you," he spoke, carefully. Mouth opening and closing, before speaking again. "But, you don't have to be stubborn. If you stay there any longer you could tear your stitches."

"Whose fault is that?"

Simon shifts his stance on his feet, waits a second. "I know. And I can never begin to tell you how sorry I am for what I did. What we all did to you," he says, quietly. "The intel we discovered...or that was forged, it came from a source we've used a dozen times, (Y/n), we thought it was true. It had to be. We've never been misled before."

"So..." your nails bite into your skin, you make an amused sound, biting down on your lip for a moment, till it hurt. " That's what you came here to say, huh? What you waited days to--. Is this you justifying--"

"No, (y/n), that's not--"

"--why you tortured me, strangled me, stripped me, in that fucking cell, Simon?"

"We had to believe it, at the time..."

"Was I not a trusted source?" you argued. "Had I not proven more than a thousand times that you could trust me? I've fought next to you, laid in your bed, given you my love, my trust, I--" you shook with rage at the time and energy wasted on time family, this relationship, if the end goal was always meant to just be this.. "I thought that was at least half the reason you decided to marry me..." at the mention of your relationship, you could see the way Simon nearly lost his balance, hands coming up to run along his face. "You told me you would kill me in that room..."

"I was just talking, I wouldn't have--" his voice cracks as he whispers, trying to convince.

"When you left, I thought you'd come back to kill me any minute, or Price, to spare you. I waited to die for two days, terrified out of my mind. I wondered about heaven, not if I'd make it... but what it'd be like, what I'd be missing out on," you thought back to your time in that cell, a haunted expression Simon couldn't see. "While you all got a good nights rest, woke up for some bacon and eggs, and listened to the warden tell you that your prisoner was framed...for a crime you'd already punished her for..." you stuttered on your breathing, tears flowing silently.

Simon inhales deeply. "I could never expect you to forgive me. I-I had taken my hurt out on you, I thought you did it, I was so sure. I couldn't hear what you were saying, I just could see the evidence, and I--I'm sorry. I'm sorry, love. I'm truly--" he gets to his knees behind you.

"Get up."

"I can never tell you how sorry I am---"

"Simon."

"I never should've done this to you. If I could ever--" his voice rising with distressed breaths, you didn't have to look at him to see his face a mess of sorrow, tears that would mix into the stubble on his face.

"Simon!"

"--make it up to you. If you could ever find it in your to forgive me, (y/n). I'll spend the rest of my life--" he gets closer, reaching out.

Whipping around, stiffening completely as you feel the graze of his fingers across your skin, "DON'T TOUCH ME!" you shove your back against your bedding, your hand swinging and flying across his face. His head snapping to the side as he pauses, freezing up where he kneels, having completely forgotten your request to stay put. "What's the matter with you! Even now? Even now, you can't just listen to this one thing?!"

"I-I'm sorry..." He looks at you, finally seeing your face clearly and up close since it all happened. Finally he can see the bruises along your face, the blood that fills your eye, the dark bruise still around your neck.

Seeing him. He looks rough. Honestly, he looks terrible. His hair shaggy and falling over his eye. Dark circles with bags under them. Pale, and thinner than he should be.

His jaw clenches with guilt and he averts his eyes, you continue. "How could I forgive you for this?" you stare at him, "I could forgive you, if you hadn't let them chain me up like an animal. If you hadn't watched them drown me for hours, beat me black and blue and left me screaming for days. I could forgive you if you had just believed me even for a moment." you feign thoughtfulness. "How about you look at my face. My wrists. My legs! MY FUCKING SPINE, SIMON!"

"Nothing I can say or do, will ever make any of it ok, I know that. And I can't ask for you to ever forgive--"

"What could I possible owe you in this life, that makes you think I'd even think about forgiving any of you for the things you did to me?" you gritted out, angrily.

Simon's head drops, a slow, shuttering sigh leaves him. "I'll never stop trying to make this right. Never."

"...Get out, Simon."

"I'm sorry."

"Simon."

"I'm so sorry..." he reaches out again.

"Ghost."

He's silent this time, fingers tensing, out in mid air.

"I never wanna see you again."

"I love you, (Y/n)," he confessed, eyes feral and wide. Pulling at the ends of your slip.

"I don't want to hear that, Ghost," kicking away from him. "Stop it."

"I couldn't stop even as it happened--"

"Shut up. And get out," shaking as you sneered at his desperate attempts. "It's over, Ghost."

"And I took it on you. It hurt so much, I couldn't think," Simon's face twisted with agony and remorse. "I'm sorry!"

He was making you lose your goddamn mind, you broke. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" screaming at one another as overwhelming tears escaped your eyes.

---

It's quiet in your hospital room, it's empty now, the door closed this time.

The door knob turns and opens again a moment later. "Oh no, Ms. (L/n)!" luckily it was your assigned nurse, who takes your arm and fixes it around her shoulder before helping haul yourself up to your feet. "What're you doing on the floor? There's a call button for a reason," she scolds as you sit on the edge of your bed.

You're quiet.

Alarmingly so for your nurse, who notices the pulled stitching that creates a line of blood down your side. "If this is about what happened to you..." the nurse started, speaking carefully, pulling a lining of gauze from the side to press to your skin. You don't even wince at the pressure, even when she begins to clean and replace the broken stitch. "Don't let it break you. Not even further than this experience already has..." she says, while through the last stitch and prepping a bandage.

"I've been broken long before this," you whispered, looking towards the afternoon sun shining through your window. "This. This didn't break me, no," you admitted, before glancing up with glossy eyes, rage hidden beneath a profound look of sadness. "It destroyed me."

Her hand pauses at your side, your words startling, turning to see the tear that slips down your cheek. Knowing now how deep your scars were from this, before gently sliding the last of the bandage across your skin. "Do not think you are irreparable. That time can't heal your wounds."

"But, there's always reminders," touching the stitches on your cheek, "some things can't be forgiven."

"I never said to forgive..." the nurse interjected. "If you could, after all this, you're stronger than any woman that could be named."

You snicker at that, humming soundly. "That's an interesting thought. I guess I'm one of the weaker ones then."

"And yet, still the strongest I've ever met," she finishes. Pats your cheek, "click the button next time. Save us both the heart attack."

"Noted," you assured.

As she's prepping to leave for her rounds, you open your mouth, once, twice, before clearing it. "Is it possible, someone could help me out--the water..."

"Of course," the nurse says, quickly. "Don't worry, I understand. I'll get everything set for you."

As she walks away, you breathing out your appreciation, you take a long inhale, swallowing down the heaviness in your chest.

part 3 OUT NOW!!

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[ghosts-and-glory]

Is Shamura training martial arts after being taken into Lamb's cult? If they enjoyed complexity and bloodshed of war than it'd be probably dissapointing for them if they had to... drop it all

Full under the cut because this turned out really long

Upon joining the cult Shamura was a shell of their former self. They join the cult dissenting, the long term effects of the crown still clawing at the edges of their mind, but after a few days they’re mortal, just themself. Without the crown to hold them together they suffer like their injury was yesterday.

The Lamb has the doctor, Puar, perform their usual tests on them. Shamura is hardly there. They don’t know their own name, can hardly speak, can’t stand or track movement.

There was no wisdom in their slurred words. No power in the way their hands shook.

The outlook is bad.

The Lamb doesn’t really want to help them, after everything, why should they. Shamura who had The Lamb’s entire race and family killed, who killed them aswell and countless of their followers. It would cost them so much, to try and help someone who spent so long just trying to destroy them and everything they had. The time, energy, resources it would cost and they didn’t even know if they could get better.

Deciding it wasn’t worth it was one thing, but getting the other ex bishops to understand was a whole other, even the doctor disagreed with them.

Dr Puar took on being their primary caregiver. They’d been a doctor for the past hundred years and seen concussions and dementia but nothing nearly as severe as this. They wanted to help Shamura but didn’t know how.

It wasn’t until Narinder joined the cult that The Lamb saw any reason to help Shamura. But there was something wrong with him and Shamura knew something, they just had to get to it.

Kallamar was the ex bishop Puar wanted the help from the most. He was scared of the lamb and red crown but he loved Shamura more.

The Lamb took Puar and Kallamar to the ruins of the temples in Anchordeep and Silk Cradle. They spent days digging through the decimated remains of the libraries for something, anything on this type of injury.

It seemed that they where looking down possible years of intense recovery. Needed herbs and medicines that may no longer exist, techniques Puar had never heard of. But they would try.

Puar took careful and detailed notes. Timed Shamura’s responses, wrote down everything they said, tracked eating, drinking, sleeping and every symptom they displayed. Improvements where slow and sometimes nonexistent at first. They took full minutes to respond and only in single words, barley moved, couldn’t feed themselves and suffered constant migraines.

The one thing that seemed to help them the most was their siblings. They didn’t remember them most days but every time one of they came to check in it raised their spirits. One of their faces was the only thing they could focus on sometimes.

Kallamar insisted he wasn’t a doctor but still worked around the infirmary, helping Shamura was the only thing he’d do without complaining. Heket spent hours sitting in silence with them, brought them food and flowers and changed their bandages. Leshy was the only thing that could get them to smile and they where the only person he would ever lower his voice for, he told them stories even though they hardly listened.

Improvements brought new challenges. They got better at speaking full sentences and following conversations but it revealed how fractured their memory was. Forgetting names, places and important events, how often they forgot where they where, they asked the same questions over and over again.

They complained of seeing and hearing things, phantom pains with seemingly no rhyme or reason. The sun hurt their eyes, rain gave them headaches, always sleeping but always tired. They would suddenly backslide constantly. One day could walk with minimal help and the next, couldn’t even hold a pen in their hand. Have a full conversation one day and hardly spit out their name tomorrow.

Until the day Puar looked Shamura in the eye and for once they saw him. Didn’t look past them with their blank stare but looked at them. They would ask to sit outside at night in the fresh air. They seemed to know now who they are, what they where, what they lost. A tinge of grief in their words.

Improvements brought frustration. On days they remembered who they where they were overcome with a mix of anger, guilt and despair. They where a god. They had bore down on armies, killed men with a twitch of a finger, brought other gods to their knees, and now they could hardly bring a cup to their mouth.

Emotionally, their siblings said they’d never seen them like this before. Before Shamura could be frustrated but their temper was cold and quiet. Now they wore a short fuse and suffered constant mood swings. It angered them that they couldn’t read, that their hands were numb, that they couldn’t walk without a cane, couldn’t go out in the sun, couldn’t string a full sentence together, couldn’t recognize their siblings faces, couldn’t feed themselves, couldn’t sleep without drugs, everything they lacked and lost wore them down.

Regardless, they where unusually steadfast. They would always pick back up. If they got frustrated they would try again in a few days. They tried anything Puar asked of them, anything for the smallest iota of improvement.

The outlook was better.

—————

This got out of control and took me like three days between the art and write up. I got really excited when I saw this ask cause the answer is so devastating. If I was taking Narinder’s trauma seriously I’m not gonna just ignore Shamura’s traumatic brain injury.

As a side note, I’m very unsure how to write the medical stuff, my guess is that cotl is based around 1300’s-1700’s but that’s a wide net to cast. My excuse for the stronger understanding of medicine and trauma is magic.

[cutielando]

my lifeline | m.r.

synopsis: in which you're his only purpose in life

my masterlist

Mattheo had always had it rough.

Being the son of the Dark Lord brought enough complications to his life, let alone being at school with people who only made fun of him because of that.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing about his life seemed fair, but he had no choice about it. He couldn’t change who he was, no matter how much he wanted to.

But he could change the way he viewed himself.

And he did. 

From the moment you had entered his life.

You transfering to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons had probably been the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Watching you timidly walk towards the Sorting Hat, anxiously waiting for it to speak and tell you which house you would join, seeing the sweet smile you had given the Slytherins once you joined them at their table and just so happened to have been sitting right across from him.

He knew, from the moment you had looked at him with your bright eyes, that he was a goner.

Over the course of your first weeks at the school, Mattheo had been the one to welcome you the best, always offering to show you around the castle, help you study or simply just keep you company while you would do homework together.

Pansy had also become your friend, very eager to have another girl in the friend group.

Pansy was also the first person to find out about your crush on the curly haired bad boy. 

It didn’t come as a surprise, really. With the amount of time you had been spending together ever since you came to the school, the countless walks you had been on with him when the both of you had free time, the charming smiles he would give you whenever he would look at you.

He had you mesmerized and he didn’t even realize.

The holidays had proved to be the perfect opportunity for Mattheo to finally tell you what he was feeling, right before you left for home.

“Y/N!” he had called out for you as you were struggling to carry your luggage down the countless pairs of stairs towards the castle entrance.

You turned around, a smile immediately appearing on your kind face. The kind of smile that made the butterflies in Mattheo’s stomach go crazy.

“Hey, Mattheo. I was just about to leave for the train, I didn’t want to be late” you explained, gesturing towards your trunk.

You didn’t know if you should have said anything else, knowing that his father and him probably didn’t want to have anything to do with each other and he had no reason to want to go home for the holidays.

“I know, and I wanted to catch you just before you left. I wanted to tell you something that I’ve been putting off for the entire semester” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You nodded, signaling that you were listening. 

He let out a breath before speaking up once again.

“I like you, a lot. Ever since you transferred here, you’ve been on my mind. I’ve come to look forward to every minute that I get to spend with you, regardless of what we do. I just wanted to know if you would like to go on a date with me once you get back?” he asked, making you smile.

All the daydreams about what it would be like to be with him, to know that he was just yours, they were finally going to happen after so much lost time.

“Your timing really sucks” you joked, making him blush and nod. “But my answer is yes” you added before quickly leaning up to kiss his cheek and left.

Unbeknownst to you, the moment you had turned around and couldn’t see him anymore, he fist-bumped the air and did a little happy dance, being sure that nobody would see him and tarnish his bad boy reputation.

Typical.

During the time you spent away, you guys exchanged several letters, in most of them Mattheo was complaining about how slow the time was passing and how eager he was to see you again and take you out.

Which he did, the hour right after you had got back to Hogwarts. 

Your date had been amazing, sipping your favorite warm drinks at the Three Broomsticks, browsing around your favorite shops in Hogsmeade, and then finally ending with a goodnight kiss right at the bottom of the stairs leading to your bedroom.

The news that you had become a couple spread around as quickly as a disease would. Gossip traveled very fast around a school full of teenagers, especially when it involved someone with a reputation like Mattheo.

Being seen together in front of the whole school had been something you were weary of, ever since he had asked you out; mainly because it was no news that your now boyfriend was a very handsome lad, and a good number of the girls from every house had a thing for him.

Imagine now, with him dating you, it had automatically put a big target on your back.

But not to worry, Mattheo was there for you.

“People are staring” you told him on the morning of your first breakfast together as a couple, a day after everyone had got back from holiday.

“So? Let them stare, I don’t care” he said, shrugging his shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You gulped, noticing more and more girls whispering and looking at you over their shoulders, frantically it was more like glaring deep into your soul.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have the entire female population of this castle hoping your head would explode so they can take your place” you had meant for it to sound like a joke in order to not worry Mattheo, but he had seen right through it.

Following your gaze, he had noticed just how much attention there was on you that morning. He cleared his throat, glaring at every single girl right back, which then prompted them to blush and turn away from you guys.

“Don’t worry about other people, they know nothing about us and they’re just jealous” he whispered to you, planting a kiss on your temple in comfort.

You knew that he was right, that you just had to drown everyone out and just focus on Mattheo and what you had.

And that was exactly what you did.

Months went by very quickly, making your relationship with Mattheo only blossom more and more with each passing day. The love shared between you was more intense than anything either of you had experienced before.

You two helped each other, motivated and encouraged one another. You helped him deal with his problems, listened to him whenever he needed to unwind and just talk to someone about his home, about what his childhood was like and what being Voldemort’s son had done to him.

You slowly helped him out of his shell, making him open to you more and more each passing day, making sure he was comfortable whenever he was around you and always made sure he was okay, no matter where you were or what the circumstances were.

You became what he needed, his savior. 

A lifeline to pull him back to reality when he would need it the most, whenever he would feel like he was about to fall off the edge.

You were his life.

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[norrizzandpia]

Lacy (LN4)

Summary: To the song “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo, that should explain it I feel like

Warnings: language, angst, sad sad sad

Note: I think this wasn’t the best I could do so if y’all want a part 2 let me know bc i feel like i could redeem myself

Lacy, oh, lacy, skin like puff pastry. Aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of hell? Dear angel lacy, eyes white as daisies, did I ever tell you that I’m not doing well?

Luisinha’s eyes twinkled as they stared up at Lando, Y/n huddled in the corner as she analyzed the girl. Lists upon lists of things she had that Y/n didn’t plagued her mind, tormenting every thought and destroying the little bit of self confidence Y/n had left. It was cruel, how sweet and perfect Luisinha was. There was no reason to hate her or criticize her, pick her apart until Y/n felt better about herself. That was the worst part, the thing that hurt the most. It wasn’t the fact that Luisinha possessed the one thing Y/n had yearned for for years before or the fact that Luisinha was loved by everyone. No, it was the fact that, when Y/n lay awake at night, she couldn’t blame anyone else for her mistake other than herself. It was gutting and tiring, but the knowledge that Luisinha was completely innocent, ironically, made Y/n hate her more.

Somebody’s arm brushing up against hers pulled her out of her deep thoughts, her head turning around to see who had taken up the space. When her eyes met that of Lando’s Australian teammate, she smiled.

“They’re cute, yeah?” Oscar chuckled, mistaking her staring for adoration rather than what it truly was; jealousy.

Nodding, Y/n tilted her head as if she really cared about the conversation, “Yeah, for sure. Never seen Lando happier.”

The words were bitter, admitting outwardly that she had never, and probably would never, be the reason for that specific smile on his face.

Oscar took a sip of his water as he looked on at the couple, “Don’t even know how she fell in love with him.”

The world went quiet for a moment as Y/n’s eyes frantically turned to sear into the side of Oscar’s face, “What?”

Her tone made his eyebrows furrow in confusion and the look on her face had him shaking his head, “Did Lando not tell you? They said ‘I love you’ like a week ago?”

Her body went numb, the information hitting her so hard it felt like the air had been taken from her lungs. As if things couldn’t get harder, Lando’s arm wrapped tightly around his girlfriend as he kissed her, very clearly lovesick. She felt stupid. Partially stupid for allowing the deepest part of her to think they would have a chance to be even remotely close to what he had with Luisinha, and the other part being stupid for not seeing how gone he was for her.

It was right in front of her, that part was chilling, but the other part that had her heart sinking was the fact that Lando had forgotten to tell her such big news.

Another thing added to the list of things Y/n didn’t have that Luisinha did; Y/n was forgettable, Luisinha wasn’t.

—

Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time. Watching, hidden in plain sight. And, oh, I try, I try, I try, but it takes over my life, I see you everywhere. The sweetest torture one could bear.

Y/n was shivering, the coat she wore not enough to keep her warm in the cold Monaco weather. She checked her phone once more, trying to spot any message from Lando saying he would be there soon, but she came up empty every time.

The hostess, with a look of pity, eyed her from inside the restaurant, the table for two under the name of “Y/n” for the reservation taunting her as she realized what she was witnessing. However, the hostess thought it was Y/n’s boyfriend standing her up, not her best friend who had most likely forgotten about the dinner because he was with his girlfriend.

It took Y/n the next few minutes to pull herself together, coming to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to answer his phone after the countless messages she had sent him asking when he was going to show up to the dinner they had planned weeks ago.

With her head hung low, she went back into the establishment, muttering words to the woman at the front about canceling her reservations and apologizing for the inconvenience. Before Y/n could turn around and sulk home, however, the hostess reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand gently. With a small smile, she whispered, “I’m sure there’s a good reason as to why he didn’t show, don’t lose hope just yet. I’m sure he loves you very much. You’re a very beautiful girl, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Nodding, Y/n didn’t look up from her feet as she thanked the woman and left. The reassurance the woman had intended to be comforting destroyed her just a bit more, resulting in controlled tears falling from her face as she rounded corners and crossed streets.

Whilst waiting for the crosswalk to turn green, Y/n pulled out her phone. Instagram was the first app she clicked, proving to be a wrong decision when she saw Lando had posted on his story. Painfully, it was a picture of him and Luisinha at his house with dinner on their laps. Ashamed of how hurt she was, she tried to convince herself that being mad at him was unnecessary. Her feelings were a product of her longing, something he couldn’t be blamed for. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help, but feel abandoned. Years of friendship down the drain as he got distracted with someone else, someone who gave him more than she could. Luisinha granted him connections to parts of the entertainment industry that could help to grow his companies, gain access to new opportunities.

She tried to convince herself she was happy for him, but that secured feeling never truly came even after she got home.

Looking at her phone once more with no response from Lando, she went to bed.

Or, at least, laid in bed. Previously mentioned nights of staying up to blame herself returning.

—

Smart, sexy Lacy. I’m losing it lately. I feel your compliments like bullets on skin. Dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate. Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist. Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. You got the one thing that I want. Oh, I try, I try, I try, try to rationalize people are people, but it’s like you’re made of angel dust.

Nights like these were supposed to be fun. Max, Y/n, and Lando all staying out into the late hours of the nights, drinking and dancing in random clubs around the city. However, this time it proved to be bittersweet as Lando informed the group Luisinha planned to tag along.

Y/n’s smile was fake, of course, but she was prepared to plaster it on for the rest of the night if it meant Lando’s good mood was preserved. Of course, Luisinha had shown up in a designer dress that hugged her body in all the right ways. Her smile was showstopping as she hugged Y/n, whispering to her about how gorgeous she looked.

“Thank you. That’s very sweet. You look very pretty as well.” Y/n got out painfully, wanting nothing to do with the woman in front of her.

“Doesn’t she?” Lando butt in as if he was trying to drive the knife deeper in Y/n’s heart. Safe to say, he was successful.

She chuckled dryly when he started waving his arms animatedly around, shouting, “Gorgeous! Impeccable! Breathtaking!”

It was a wonder Y/n didn’t break down right then. Shades of betrayal dousing out the fire in her eyes, the life in her body, as her mind forced her to take a look back on all the times she had thought Lando loved her as much as she did him. The time when he drove to her house in the middle of the night because she got a stomach bug and was throwing up; the time when he pretended to be her boyfriend so a random man at a bar would stop making her feel uncomfortable; the time when he had opened up to her about his mental health struggles, finishing it off with telling her how much he loved her and appreciated her. That moment, out of all of them, was the worst to relive because it was in the way he said her name, the way his fingers had gripped her hand, as he told her how much he adored her whole being. His tone had made it sound as if a real love declaration was the cusp of his lips, although those specific words never came. Instead, it was a quiet silence as he waited for her to respond and she waited for him to tell her everything she had ever wanted to hear. Y/n had locked that memory away in her mind, it being too crushing to bounce around in her mind like the others did. So, when it came up as he yelled around in front of her about how beautiful his girlfriend was, she was pushed over the edge.

Suddenly, her dress felt too tight and she became too aware of the tips of her fingers touching the tops of her thighs. She no longer wanted to go out and hang out with people whom she wanted to forget about. But, the cruelty of the world seemed to be targeting her as an opportunity to bail on their plans never came, and she was forced to listen to Luisinha’s giggling after Lando whispered something in her ear.

No amount of alcohol could cure the putrid taste of unrequited love, she knew that, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Shots on shots of vodka riddled the booth they had reserved in the back of the club. She didn’t want to dance, didn’t want to talk, she just wanted to sulk in her thoughts and allow herself to wallow in self pity.

Y/n was a fun drunk, but, that night, she was messy and sloppy, the complete opposite of what she knew Lando wanted. Luisinha had gotten tipsy; Luisinha had twirled around on the dance floor gracefully as if she couldn’t mess a single thing up; Luisinha had done everything right while Y/n tormented herself for being nothing like that. She couldn’t get out of her own head, clearly being too far gone alcohol-wise to think straight.

“Maybe you should slow down?” Max tried, coaxing the glass out of her hand when she had accidentally sloshed the liquid onto his lap.

Groaning and rolling her eyes, Y/n grabbed her bag, “You’re no fun. I’m going to find someone else.”

Max shook his head, reaching out to grab her wrist, knowing Lando would kill him if he left Y/n alone like this, but she was too quick for him, disappearing into the crowd in a millisecond.

He shouted for her, eyes scanning the herd of people, before going to check outside, but he continuously came up empty. The situation became even worse when Lando came back to their table, Luisinha in tow, with furrowed eyebrows.

“Where’s Y/n?” He quizzed, his gaze falling on a frantic Max.

“She left.” He said as his eyes failed to meet Lando’s.

There was a silence before Lando tried again, “I’m sorry, what?”

Max scoffed, “Lando, she left. I don’t know where she went and, no matter how hard I try, I can’t find her anywhere.”

Luisinha, being the angel she was, began looking around the club as if she could find Y/n in the spots Max had already looked.

“Did you call her?” Lando asked, pulling out his phone and clicking her contact.

It rang, continued to ring, until it clicked and he was met with an eerie quiet.

“Y/n? Where are you?” He asked softly.

Rustling and heels clacking was all he heard before her slurred words were saying, “I’m walking home.”

He shook his head immediately, grabbing his keys and nodding to Luisinha and Max, telling them he was going to go pick her up.

“No way, Y/n. Your house is so far from here on foot. Let me come get you and I can drive you home, how about that?”

She didn’t have much of a choice considering he was already outside of the club and unlocking his car, but that didn’t get through to her, “No, Lando. I don’t want to see anyone right now, especially you.”

His foot stepped on the gas, driving toward her house and hoping to find her on his way there, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He knew never to reason with a drunk, but she had been so distant lately, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know what had happened to his best friend and the relationship they once shared.

Y/n huffed, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Continuing down the road he was on, he saw, in the distance, a black, shimmering dress, similar to the one he knew Y/n had worn that night. Sure enough, as he got closer, he saw her braced against a light post as she tried to take off her heels. Her hair was messy, eyes stained black with her smeared mascara, and, if Lando had to guess, she had been crying.

When he pulled up next to her, she scoffed loudly, “God, you can’t just leave me alone, huh? I said I didn’t want to see you, Lando. Leave me the fuck alone.”

He was visibly taken aback by her hostile nature, but, nevertheless, tried to get her in the car.

“Get in the car, Y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone when you’re this drunk.” He unlocked the doors and got out of the car, walking towards her only for her to take a step back.

“I don’t want to get in the car with you. Go back to Luisinha.” She was practically spitting her words, aggression dripping off every syllable.

Lando groaned, reaching out for her once more, but just missing her, “Stop being stubborn, Y/n. Get in the car and I’ll drive you home.”

Finally, her fuse having run out, she shouted, “NO.”

Lando’s arms flew out beside him, “Ok, why?!”

She threw her shoe at his legs and, if they hadn’t been so disappointed in the way their partnership had turned out, they would’ve laughed.

“Why’d you never tell me you and her said ‘I love you’?” She stopped, putting her hands on her hips as her anger took a new look, quiet and controlled.

He blinked at her, “Who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Lando. Why?” She shrugged, staring blankly at him.

He looked away from her, hesitant to answer with the truth. His change in attitude allowed Y/n to continue, “What about last week when you didn’t show up for dinner?”

He shook his head, “What dinner?”

Her jaw dropped and she began laughing, “You still don’t remember? Did you look at any of my texts? Never wondered why I called you so many times last Friday night?”

He thought back, remembering he had spent that night with Luisinha, nothing about Y/n blowing up his phone. To check, he pulled the device out, looking through his messages and seeing, lost in all the other people trying to get ahold of him, was her asking where he was.

He breathed out deeply, “Shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. It’s been happening a lot lately.”

“No, don’t do that. It hasn’t.” He tried to convince her, but she seemed unimpressed.

“Alright, so then why did you forget to tell me such a pivotal moment in your relationship?” She tried again.

His head fell into his hands, shaking it side to side, before mumbling, “Because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“How would I get hurt?” She said it as if he was stupid and being overly cautious for no reason. The fact that she was actually hurt by it, she wouldn’t tell him.

His eyes flew up to meet hers and in a small moment of confidence, Lando stated, “Because you love me.”

The four words hung in the air, painful and so incredibly true. She tried to come up with a deflection or some sort of counterargument, but, by the way he looked at her, she knew it was no use.

Sighing, “How long have you known?”

His hand grabbed ahold of her arm, her body finally not creating more distance, “That doesn’t matter. Y/n, this doesn’t change how I see you. In fact, knowing it’s true is good because…” He trailed off, their eyes lingering on each other as they both braced themselves for what was about to be said. Y/n let out a small smile for once that night and let herself get lost in the idea of what he was about to reveal, “I lo-”

Whatever he was about to say was completely interrupted when a car pulled up next to them, the window from the backseat being rolled down and Luisinha’s face popping out.

“Good, you found her! Let’s go home. Max and I are so tired.” She gave a tight-lipped smile, unknowingly having stopped a moment that would’ve ended her relationship. Her eyes seemed to follow their movements closely as if she was suspicious of the moment she had caught them in.

Lando looked back to Y/n, an apology swimming in his eyes, but she disregarded it. Muttering incoherent words, she yanked her arm from his hold and got in his car.

Defeated, once more, by the girl she wanted to be.

—

Lacy, oh, lacy. It’s like you’re out to get me. You poison every little thing that I do. Lacy, oh, lacy. I just loathe you lately and I despise my jealous eyes, and how hard they fell for you.

Days after that night, Luisinha’s entire demeanor toward Y/n shifted. She became more antagonistic. Long gone were the sweet comments about Y/n’s appearance, in place were backhanded compliments that had more than a few people raising their eyebrows.

Everything Y/n did was scrutinized and corrected by her, making it seem as though Y/n was incompetent. Subtly mean, Y/n found her reason to hate Luisinha. It was bittersweet, truthfully. Something Y/n had wanted to feel for so long; pure annoyance at the other girl in Lando’s life, but, it also caused a rift between her and him.

Lando and Y/n, the supposed iconic duo, stopped talking. Disappearing from her so rapidly were the nights when they would go out to get food only to gossip the whole time; disappearing were the times when he would invite her out with him and Max. Suddenly, she was seeing Luisinha laughing along with Max as they sat in the same booth she had just a few weeks before on different fan accounts. Luisinha, the better version of her, had become her immediate replacement and it killed her soul. A family she once admired had been stolen from her at the hands of someone she still loved and the other a woman whom, no matter how harsh she was, Y/n would always idolize and yearn to be.

Confusing, nevertheless. Questions now kept her awake at night instead of the usual self-torment.

Wasn’t Lando about to tell her he loved her on that cold, quiet street?

If so, why would he have ousted her so easily?

Why had she given her all to someone who, seemingly, didn’t care?

But, the one thing that never left her alone, the question that agonized her the most was the one there could never be a satisfactory answer to.

Why couldn’t she be Luisinha?

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you.

A/N: LMK KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS BOTH GOOD AND BAD IDK HOW TO FEEL ABT THIS ONE I HOPE YOU LIKED IT

[writingforstraykids]

Keep it together

Pairing: Chan x femReader

Word Count: 2199

Summary: You come back to an empty home, overwhelmed after a shitty day. Once Chan's there he makes sure to take care of you.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, cuddles, emotional hurt!comfort

A/N: My dear friend and editor Miya @miyaluvvsyou wrote this beautiful comfort fic for Channie, trying to make me believe that it's "just a lil sth and probably not good"...please, help me prove her otherwise🤭🖤

Pushing the front door to your home open, you drag your tired body inside and let it slam shut behind you, ignoring the sound that normally makes you flinch. You slide off your shoes, drop your bag and keys on the nearby table, and take off your jacket to hang it up on the hook next to the door. You turn towards your living room, taking a few steps into your home. The air is still, silence clouding the air as you realize no one is home besides you. The sunlight peaks through your windows, and subtlety illuminates the space just enough to see the features of your home. 

You walk past the living room and towards the stairs to your bedroom, stripping the clothes from your body in the process. As you reach your bedroom, you drop your clothes in the laundry basket by the door and head into the master bathroom, leaving the door open. Standing in front of the sink, you look into the mirror and you inhale a shaky breath, exhaling as you examine your features while only standing in your bra and panties. 

Your hair, now frizzy and all over the place from its neat style this morning, is the first thing you see. The dark circles resting under your eyes threaten to deepen with one more sleepless night. Your eyes were red and puffy from rubbing them all day, also ruining your makeup you put effort into this morning. Your skin was slightly paler than normal. As you take in the sight, tears begin to brim your eyelids, and you take a shaky, deep breath to center yourself. You were drained in every sense of the word, and it was very apparent in your appearance, though you tried to hide it. 

And all you wanted was him.

A tear escaped and rolled down your face, but you wiped it away quickly with a sniffle. Moving towards your shower, you turn on the hot water and let the steam envelop the room for a couple of minutes while you continue wiping away the tears still escaping your eyelids. 

Keep it together just enough to shower. Wash the day away, and you will be fine…

You repeat the same words in your head as you strip from your underwear and step into the scalding water, letting it welcome you with a deep sigh. You try not to waste any time and energy getting to work on washing your body. With every scrub of the soapy cloth, you imagine every single worry and inconvenience from the week being taken away. But no matter how hard you scrub, your mind can’t seem to relax. The flowing hot water only giving you temporary relief from the icy atmosphere in your mind. And you can’t stay in the shower forever, as much as you want to sink down to the floor and let the water consume you. You resist the urge and continue cleaning your body until you’re satisfied. 

Finishing your shower and getting out, you wrap a towel around your body and walk back to the bedroom. Grabbing your lotion, you sit at the edge of the bed and moisturize your body as you get lost in your thoughts again, staring at the floor and spacing out. Your body moves on autopilot, making sure to cover every inch of skin with the sweet-scented lotion as you’ve done countless times before. If anyone were to walk in, they would think you’re just doing your normal routine. But they’d have no idea of the depressive storm brewing in your head.

Keep it together. You’ll be under the covers and away from the world soon…

As you continue your routine on autopilot, you tug one of his t-shirts over your head, slip on a pair of panties, and sit on your side of the bed, facing the window. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply and hold it in. The tears that were in your waterline begin to slide down your cheeks. You exhale shakily, and before you can stop it, the tears fall faster. You begin to cry, feeling your mind and body give in to the breakdown you have been avoiding all day. As your sobs get louder, your body slides down onto the floor, leaning back against the bed, and your hands reach up to cover your face. You cry your heart out, trying to keep your heart from racing out of your chest. 

You don’t hear Bang Chan come home almost an hour later. He’s humming to himself as he closes the door, guiding it so it won’t slam, and puts his keys in the bowl on the table. As he takes his shoes off, he notices yours and smiles to himself, putting his bag next to yours. “(Y/N), I’m home, love!” He calls out to you. Taking off his hoodie and hanging it next to the door, he turns towards the living room, expecting to see you. 

But he’s met with nothing but the still silence of the home. There weren’t any lights on, just the few rays of sunlight coming through the window. There wasn’t any movement coming from the kitchen. As he walked further in, he noticed the tv wasn’t on either, couch unoccupied. 

“(Y/N)? Are you home, baby?” Chan called out again, his eyebrows raised as he awaits for a response. But none came, and he frowned. 

Strange.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens it and calls your phone, listening to the ringing. A couple of seconds later, he hears the vibration from your phone and looks around to locate the sound. He follows the vibration back to your purse, where he sees your ringing phone with his name on the screen. He looks around once more before ending the call. He softly hums and begins to make his way upstairs, 2 steps at a time. Maybe you were in the bathroom or in the shower.

Chan notices the bedroom door open and looks inside, standing in the doorway. His eyes scan the room before he sees the top of your head poking out from your side of the bed. He exhales with a small smile and slowly walks in, trying not to make noise to surprise you. But his smile fades as he gets closer to you and hears your small sniffles. Are you crying?

“Baby?” Chan speaks gently to get your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, and his heart drops at the sight. You’re sitting on the floor in his t-shirt, one shoulder exposed and crossed legged. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy, tears flowing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you sniffle but struggle to breathe. My poor baby..

He’s kneeling down in front of you not even a second later, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “(Y/N) what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” Chan rattles out questions as he closely examines your body. You shake your head and sniffle, more tears flowing from your eyes. 

“C-Chan I-“ You struggle to get out between sniffles. You put your hands over his and close your eyes. He leans forward and kisses your nose softly, then your forehead, and finally pecks your lips so delicately. It causes you to still, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. It calms you enough to finally open your eyes and meet his gaze. 

He looks at you with a pained expression and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs gently. “What’s wrong, princess? What’s upsetting you, hm?” He asks sincerely. Chan hated seeing you upset, especially if he’s the one that causes it. But since he’s just gotten home, he doesn’t think he might be the cause this time. 

“I don’t k-know, but hold me p-please” You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck. Chan sits back against the wall and pulls you into his lap, holding you close to his chest as he rubs your back. You bury your face in his neck and sniffle, trying to steady yourself in his arms. 

Chan rubs soothing circles on your back and shushes you softly. You instinctively pull him impossibly closer, taking deep breaths. “It’s okay, babygirl. I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You nod at his words. “We can sit here as long as you’d like, okay?”

“O-okay Channie.” You whisper into his neck, steadying your beating heart as you find comfort in his arms. 

The two of you sit like that for 2 hours. Once your sniffles died down and the tears stopped flowing, you curled up in Chan’s lap, subconsciously trying to shrink yourself. He continued to rub your back while planting soft kisses on your head every now and then. He even started to hum one of your favorite songs to help steady your heartbeat. He didn’t complain about being on the floor for so long, he just wanted you to be okay. Once the silence was in the air long enough, he spoke up. “How ya feeling, love?”

“I’m okay…” You shyly reply, shifting a little in his lap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“ You begin to try explaining yourself, but Chan interrupted you almost immediately. 

“Shh hey, don’t apologize to me. My concern is you, no matter what.” He looks into your eyes as he speaks reassurance to you, letting the hand that’s not rubbing your back gently caress your face. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, it’s okay. I won’t pressure you.”

You nod and your eyes flutter as he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. With a sniffle, you begin to speak. “I just had a really tense work week and once I got home, my body just…broke down. It’s just been so-“ The tears begin to rim around your eyes as you explain, and you take a pause to take a deep breath. Chan notices and kisses your forehead, running a gentle finger underneath your eyes to wipe away your tears. You take his hand and look into his eyes. “Thank you, Channie.” You speak lowly, but sincerely. 

“Don’t thank me, it’s my job to make sure you are okay baby.” He speaks softly with a smile. You match the small smile resting on his face and nod. “Do you wanna sit here for a little longer still?”

“Can we lay in bed and cuddle? You’re probably uncomfortable from sitting like this for a while. Especially with me sitting on top of you.” You give him an apologetic look, while an adorable pout rests on your lips.

Chan shakes his head. “You know I’ll never complain when you’re sitting on my lap, princess.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows. You gasp softly and slap his shoulder playfully, smiling as he giggled. “But we can lay down and cuddle baby, whatever you want.” He chuckles and kisses you. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving to straddle his lap. He wraps his arms around your legs and stands up with ease, causing a squeal to leave your lips in the middle of the kiss. He chuckles and kisses you again as he takes a few steps towards the bed and lays you on your back. 

You keep your arms around his neck and wraps your legs around his waist to keep him close. He smiles and kisses your forehead and cheeks, going back to your lips for a soft peck. You whine softly and try to connect your lips again, but he pulls back just enough to be out of reach, a grin that flashes his dimples rests on his lips. “Channieee” 

“Uhn uhn, cuddling only princess. That’s what you asked for.” He raised an eyebrow, still grinning. 

You sigh and pout at him. “Just a little kiss?” You give him the best boba eyes you can manage. 

But he doesn’t crack, giving your pouty lips a quick peck before he playfully slaps your thigh. “There’s your kiss. Now get under the covers while I change my clothes.” He says, giggling at your stunned face from his movement. He gives you one more small peck before standing up and going into that closet to change. You smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. 

Chan comes out of the closet in a pair of sweatpants but his chest bare. He climbs into bed and underneath the covers, pulling your body close to his. You lay your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, feeling safe and sound in his arms. He kisses your temple and smiles. “I love you darling.”

“I love you more, Channie. So much more.” You speak, placing a kiss on his chest and smiling to yourself. You turn on Netflix and you watch that K-Drama you both have been waiting to watch, feeling that much needed peace you craved just hours ago. 

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143

[undertheorangetree]

Snowed In

Summary- A snow storm leads to an opportunity.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Modern Aemond. Cat Vhagar is modern AU canon. Friends to lovers vibe. Thigh riding. Blowjob. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Safe sex practices for once. Probably ooc Aemond cuz he's experiencing joy.

Author's Note- Yes all of my fics take place in the winter what about it?? That's my business that I am now involving you in link to full fic below :)

dividers by me

"They've just closed campus."

Her head pops up from behind her laptop, staring at Aemond in wide eyed disbelief. Already, there is a sympathetic wince on his face, the kind that is only ever present when he knows she is about to get upset, but even then she refuses to believe him.

"Closed? What do you mean closed?"

"It says they had to on account of the weather."

"No, they haven't. Let me see."

He spins his laptop screen to face her, forcing her to push her own down in order to see properly. His email has been left open on the page and her eyes rove over the message she had so desperately hoped he had made up. There before her in big bold letters are the words URGENT- CAMPUS CLOSED followed by a brief explanation blaming a snow storm and apologizing for any inconveniences the decision may have caused.

She lets out a groan, leaning back in the library's old chair, a pleading look on her face as if Aemond is the one responsible for making such decisions. He may as well be, with his family being such heavy contributors to Oldtown University's alumni fund, his last name plastered across the front of one of the many building on campus. She has half the mind to ask him to go speak to whichever family member is on the chair committee to convince them to reverse the decision and allow them to go back to finishing their final papers, though somehow she doubts that would be likely.

"The storm wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow. It can't already be that bad, can it?"

He reaches over toward the blinds they have long since closed, both of them having agreed that the glare from the sun was too distracting hours ago, only to be met with the sight of a now white campus, the snow blanketing near everything in sight. It's evident now why they would have shut down campus - it must have been snowing for hours- but she still feels something close to dread work its way up her spine.

She sucks in a heavy breath, turning to face Aemond once more. "Do you think they would have shut down the buses too?"

She knows it's a lost cause even as she asks it. The university is located away from the port, standing alone at the top of one of the mountains. It's a steep drive even in idle conditions and she knows that with the snow on the roads, the chances of her being able to commute back to her apartment are slim to none.

Just as she suspects, he simply looks at her, face contorted in a way that clearly implies that she already knows the answer. She bites out a curse, half slamming her laptop down before dropping her face into her hands.

The last thing she wants to do is spend the night on campus. She doubts that they were the only two caught unaware and trying to find a place to camp out for the night is going to be hell. Not for him, of course. Aemond's family connections came with seemingly endless perks and he had been set up with a beautiful flat on campus, less than a five minute walk from the library. He has lived there ever since she has known him and she had been there more times than she could count. Since first befriending him during orientation week in their first year, she had spent countless nights eating take out and studying for finals there. With their joint history major, they had taken nearly every class together, making last night studying near second nature at this point, so close to finishing their degrees.

There's a faint burn of envy in her gut at the thought of his flat- warm, isolated, cozy- but it's quickly snuffed out by her nervousness, fretting over where exactly she is meant to camp out tonight. She doubts she will actually sleep, not while she’s alone on campus, but she still wants to be at least somewhat comfortable. A padded chair would be ideal, though she knows they will be difficult to come by if she doesn’t act quickly.

Shoving her laptop back into her bag, she begins collecting the handful of papers she had sprawled out across the tabletop. "I guess I should go and try to find somewhere to sleep. It's going to be a blood bath trying to find something with decent cushioning."

He scoffs. "You're not going to be fighting any blood baths. Just spend the night at mine."

Read the rest here

[sorrowsofsilence]

Discipline • Sebastian

Pairing: Professor!Noah Sebastian x fem!student!reader

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, Smut (PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, spanking, fem!receiving, male!receiving, hair pulling, slight degrading / rudeness) professor x student, swearing

Prompt: Professor Davis is a stuck-up know-it-all who hates when you talk back, especially in front of the class. Perhaps, some discipline is necessary to keep you in line.

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @silentglassbreak @darkmxgician @philomenie @sprokat @thatchickwiththecamera

He was a stubborn know-it-all, and a stuck-up smart-ass. Therefore, you loved pushing his buttons, especially in front of the class. 

He hated being wrong, and he was a perfectionist who nit-picked everything you did.

Yet, from the first day you met your physics professor, you were captivated by his sheer ego and wit. 

You wanted to hate him because of how frustrating he was, but something about the way his eye always caught yours mid-lecture, and the sheer glint of pride that would shadow his cocky demeanour when you proved him wrong: well it left your heart pounding every time you stepped foot into his class. 

He acted like he hated it, and if the sass came from any other student, he probably did.

But from you? God, he lived for it. 

Professor Davis loved your technicality and scholarly attitude, and he admired your confidence and flirtatious jesting; but it took everything in him to push away the urge to treat you like homework by throwing you onto his desk and doing you all night long. 

He knew it was wrong to think this way, especially during the countless nights he relished in the mental image of you in that short skirt and collared jumper, the hand that stroked himself in the shower a pitiful attempt at imagining it was yours. 

It was wrong to imagine fucking you and delving his head between your legs, lapping up your arousal until you shook from the pleasure he gifted you, his student.

The code of conduct required teachers to remain professional and competent; and not have their minds clouded with lust; even if it was between two consenting adults. 

It was no doubt that Professor Davis was the hottest teacher on your university campus. Students oggled over him constantly, especially with the way his not-so-hidden tattoos poked just above his black turtleneck, or how his hands that wrote out equations on the chalkboard were covered in intricate drawings. It was a mystery what else was lying underneath his all-black uniform, but it always left your mind wandering to scandalous thoughts.

The academic power and breach of trust that would ensue if anything happened between the two of you would surely make him lose his job. 

But you wanted to push the boundaries, your mind begging to watch his inked fingers sink into your pussy. 

You were sitting in your usual spot in class, your pen copying the equation Dr. Davis had placed on the board. He turned, eyes meeting yours for what felt like the hundredth time this period before he scanned the room, twirling the chalk between his fingers. 

“You have one minute,” He said, his free hand running through his chestnut locks, and the sound of pencils scraping paper filled the room. You averted your attention from him, something hard to do because you loved the way he would tilt his head back to shake his hair back into place, before jotting down your work.

You quickly answered the equation, placing your pen back onto the desk before resting your elbow on the surface, your chin sitting on your palm. Once the brunette noticed you were done he waited a few more seconds before announcing to the class to stop. 

Watching him turn back to the chalkboard, he expanded on the equation, answering it with the given numbers. He faced the class, pointing at it, “If your answer looks different, you did it wrong.” 

His tone was cocky and rude, and you squinted your eyes in frustration at him.

He is such a dick. And so fucking attractive. 

Glancing between your paper and the board you shook your head slightly. You knew you had the correct answer, but what he had written did not match what was on your page. 

A few students began to murmur around you, comparing their answers to one another. The few who had gotten it correct looked at their paper confused, and Professor Davis watched his students with a disappointed look. 

“Did anybody solve it correctly, or do we need to review the literal basics before your exam next week?” 

You raised your hand and Professor Davis rolled his eyes, an attempt to be demeaning, but you knew behind his gaze a tinge of playfulness lingered. 

“Dr. Davis, you’re asking us to calculate variance, right?” You pushed, raising a brow. 

He hummed in response, nodding curtly as he leaned back onto his desk. Crossing his arms and legs, he chewed on the inside of his cheek, watching you with dark eyes as he awaited your response. 

“Then you answered it wrong.” 

He shared a smug smile, tilting his head slightly before looking at the board, “How?”

“The degree of scatter is parameterized by the quantity. So you placed the 3 in the wrong spot. Therefore, you got the wrong answer.”

The brunette scoffed, standing straight as he walked over to your desk. Leaning forward he placed the chalk on top of your notebook, his hair falling over his forehead, “Why don’t you come to teach the class then Miss. Y/L/N?”

I gave him a sarcastic smile as I slid out of my seat, “Maybe we’ll all learn something then, huh?”

A low laugh erupted from the class and Professor Davis bit back a smile, his jaw clenching in annoyance as his eyes followed your trail to the front of the class. 

You flattened your skirt as you bent down to pick up the eraser, wiping away your professor's mistake and filling in the equation with the correct numbers. 

It was such a small mistake, that it surprised you he even made it. You glanced at him briefly, avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your desk.

He held his hand open and you placed the chalk in his large palm, your fingers grazing his skin in temptation. 

His onyx eyes refused to leave yours as he spoke to the class, “You’re all free to leave. Make sure you read chapter 8 for Thursday as we talk about angular momentum and static friction.”

As people began packing up and exiting the room your attention turned to Dr. Davis when he called your name. 

“Y/N, I’d like to speak with you.” 

Your heart hammered as he nodded toward his desk, and you packed your items into your bookbag, hooking it over your shoulder as you approached him. 

Professor Davis walked toward the entrance door, nodding at the remaining students and giving them curt smiles. Once the last person left he closed the door and locked it. 

He then turned to face you, folding his arms, “I’m sick and tired of your attitude Miss. Y/L/N, especially when it’s in front of the class.”

You shrugged, tilting your head back in annoyance, “Look I want to pass this class, and when you’re constantly wrong, I’m going to speak up.” 

“Constantly?” Dr. Davis laughed bitterly, “I think I deserve a bit more respect from you.”

“Respect goes both ways Professor,” You licked your lips as he stared at you intensely, his eyes dancing with unspoken words. The tension between the two of you caused your breathing to quicken, and he slowly approached the desk.

“You got quite the mouth on you, y’know?” His voice was hoarse as if he was holding back his next words, “Someone should teach you what to do with it.”

You swallowed in response, his words causing you to chew on your lip in anticipation as your heart raced.

“You’re inappropriate,” He spoke lowly, stepping closer toward you with each word, and you backed up from him, “Disrespectful, Disruptive-” you gently hit the brick wall behind his desk, his eyes narrowing at you as his forehead was inches from yours, “you’re distracting.”

Dr. Davis’s proximity made your stomach begin to churn with butterflies as your eyes danced between his own and his lips, before staring at the smile that grew on his expression.

“Discipline is necessary,” He said as you looked up at him, his eyes filled with infatuation. 

You dared stifle a laugh, “You want me to write a thousand-word essay apology?” 

Professor Davis was careful to not touch you, but his body was almost pressed against yours, daring to push you into the wall. You wanted him to make the first move, but you knew he wouldn’t. Not without a little motivation.

“No,” He swallowed, his lips parting as he stared at yours, almost desperate. 

“Then what?” You pried, looking up through your lashes, taunting him as you placed your bag on the ground.

The two of you stood there, breaths exchanging as the warmth between you built. Your eyes stared at his lips again before flickering to his eyes as a form of contentment. 

“fuck it,” he muttered ever so quietly before his hand reached up to your jaw, lips attaching to your own in haste.

You closed the gap between your bodies by tugging on his sweater, pulling him toward you as he pressed his hips into yours.

He held your face firmly as your lips melded together, the kiss opening as he pressed his tongue against yours. You couldn’t help but moan into him, brows furrowing in lust and need as his free hand gripped your hip. He trailed his fingers down your leg, reaching for the exposed skin underneath your skirt. 

The unholy sounds that escaped you as he gripped onto your body left him groaning, tugging at the fabric of your long sleeve. 

He pulled away, allowing you to peel the layer of clothing off before pulling you against him once again. 

Dr. Davis wrapped his arms around you in an embrace as he kissed you with desire and greed. He pulled you toward his desk, pushing off the books and papers, letting them fall to the ground in ignorance. 

You sat on his desk, allowing the brunette to push you down so your elbows supported you from behind. Staring at him, your skirt slid down your thighs as Professor Davis pushed your legs apart, staring at you hungrily.

“Look at you, literally begging for someone to put you in your place,” He scoffed, tugging at your underwear before letting it snap back against your skin, “Pathetic.”

You rolled your eyes as you sat there, soaking and desperate, “What are you going to do about it?”

Professor Davis kneeled as he spoke, “I’ve always wanted to taste you.”

He pulled your panties to the side as you slid to the edge of the desk. You watched him eagerly, abdomen clenching in anticipation as he slid his fingers along your folds. 

“Please-”

“Sir.” He scolded, slapping your desire slightly, and you impatiently rutted your hips toward him. 

“Please sir,” You begged, and he obliged, burying himself between your legs. 

The first strip of his tongue made you shake, the second one called out his name.

“Professor I-” 

“Just say, Noah.” He sighed, sucking on the skin that created a haze in your mind. You hummed.

Noah hungrily devoured you, lapping up your arousal before sinking his fingers into you. You groaned in relief at the feeling, and he curled and twisted, pulling an orgasm from you in seconds.

But then he didn’t stop. 

You cried as he pulled you into him, refusing to move as he kept eating you out with fervour. The overstimulation was almost painful and you tried pushing his head away, but he held your thighs against his face firmly, lapping and sucking at the skin in hunger and punishment. 

Your legs shook as your head tilted back in lustful agony, begging him to stop.

He finally pulled away at his own pace, breathing heavily, “You don’t get to tell me to stop. I’ll make you cum as much as I want.” 

You groaned at his words, allowing you to lay back fully as your legs spread wider for him. Your hand gripped Noah’s hair, pulling him toward you as he began exploring your body once again. 

“If you’re going to discipline me like this, I’ll be speaking up in class much more.” 

Noah immediately pulled away with a scoff, standing up to watch you below. He began to pull apart his belt, unzipping his fly as he stroked himself from above his briefs, “You’re such a brat you know that-” 

He pulled down your underwear, tossing it onto the ground before pulling you off the desk. He turned you around, bending you over the wooden surface, “-and fuck I love it.”

He flipped your skirt up, exposing your ass as he slapped the skin. He pressed your chest into the desk as he spit into his hand, stroking himself. 

You felt Noah line up against you, and in greed you pushed back, earning another slap across your skin.

“That impatient?” He laughed, reaching to grip a fistful of your hair. He tugged you back to look at him, before pushing into your body without warning. 

A string of curses left his lips as his hips slapped against you, the size of his cock stretching and filling your desperate core. Your arms reached forward to grip the edge of the desk, holding onto the wood with mercy.

“You feel better than I ever could’ve imagined.” He whispered, quiet whimpers escaping his chest as he fucked you harshly, pounding faster with each thrust. 

Your whole body shook as the sounds of sex filled the room, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as Noah gave you everything he had, months of tension easing as the two of you finally gave in to temptation. He gripped your hips with both of his hands, pulling you as he pushed into you. His fingers dug into your ass as he slapped you again, your face pressed into the desk.

“You-you get the problems wrong on purpose-” You cried as Noah gave you another orgasm, your body clenching around his through your release.

Your professor slowed his pace, tilting his head to watch as his cock slid in and out of you, the slick of your cum causing him to groan. 

He didn’t answer your question, sliding out of your body and tugging on your arms to pull you off the desk. 

“Get on your knees so I can fuck your mouth. That way you’ll shut the fuck up,” Noah growled. 

You followed his instruction, succumbing to him as he gripped either side of your head. You took him eagerly into your mouth, sucking all of him as he pushed his length against your tongue. 

Noah thrust into your mouth quickly, causing you to gag. He thrust a few more times before his head fell back, eyes closing while he held you taut against him.

“Fuck,” he cried, and you squeezed your eyes shut, his release coating the back of your throat.

You swallowed everything he gave you, smiling up at him in contentment. Noah’s chest heaved, legs shaky as he zipped himself back up, buckling his belt. He helped you up off the floor and you licked your lips, the salty tang of Noah reminiscent. 

“Same time next week?” You asked, straightening your skirt as you leaned down to grab your underwear. 

“How about I take you to dinner first?” He straightened the collar of his turtle neck, and you couldn’t help but look away, blushing.

[bumblesimagines]

Fiona Gallagher

fancy running into you here.

you haven't changed a bit.

i was never good for you.

fancy running into you here.

you haven't changed a bit.

i was never good for you.

Pronouns: They/Them/Their, Gender Neutral!Reader

"Man," Kevin breathed, his head propped up on his fist as his eyes ran all over your face. "You were a pipsqueak last time I saw you. Like, shit... You takin' somethin' to get so tall? Who's your guy? The hell's in the water over in New York?"

"Kev, I was like seventeen last time you saw me." You reminded the bar owner lightly, a smile stretching across your face despite his astonishment at your... normal growth? You could hardly blame him. You barely reached up to his chest before you left Chicago for New York and never looked back. Until nostalgia struck and led you right back to your shitty yet comforting hometown. 

"Yeah..." Kevin pushed himself off the bar and tossed the rag over his shoulder, the twinkling awe in his eye childish yet welcoming. His friendly smile morphed into a sheepish one, and he scratched at his jaw lightly. "You know, this is probably a bad time to mention Fiona's gonna be droppin' by at any minute."

As if on cue, the door to The Alibi Room swung open, bringing in a gust of cold winter air into the bar. You took one glance toward the door and turned back to Kevin with a deadpan look, getting a smile full of feigned innocence in return. You wrapped your fingers around the beer bottle and took a swing, swallowing down the remaining beer and reaching into your wallet to slap the money on the table. The sound of the door slamming shut made your heart jump slightly and you sent Kevin a scowl before slipping out of the bar stool. 

Your eyes immediately met hers the moment you turned around, and for a brief moment, you wondered if she'd even recognize you. She looked about the same. Big tired brown eyes, messy unbrushed brunette strands that stuck out in every direction, a slender body that'd have any grandmother throwing a fit about not eating enough, and clothes that looked as if she'd blindly pulled them out of her closet and slipped them on. Still naturally beautiful and still exhausted from the weight of responsibilities thrown on her shoulders. 

Recognition flickered in her eyes and she stopped, the words dying on her tongue as her mouth snapped shut. She stared at you, her eyes flickering between your own before drifting around your face and down to the rest of you. Her mouth formed different words but no sound came out and you simply stood there, letting her drink you in for the first time in five years. 

"Fancy running into you here." She breathed out, her ears turning a soft pink when you couldn't help but laugh. Fiona set her worn tote bag on one of the bar stools and moved forward, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. "Oh, my god, (Y/N)... you're here. You're actually here. Since when? Why?" She pulled back, her hands dropping down to clutch your forearms. Her brows knitted together and you could practically hear the questions racing through her mind, likely coming up with a million horrible things that could've led you back to Chicago. 

"I... I wanted to check in. I wanted to see how everyone was doing. You... you haven't changed a bit." You chuckled, a familiar warm, fuzzy feeling settling in your chest and spreading through your body. 

Fiona's brows relaxed and she exhaled heavily. "I still look like a hot mess?" She chuckled softly.

"You're still prettier than half the girls on the block." You smiled and watched her face soften at words she'd heard countless times before. She laughed breathlessly and brushed some strands out of her face, peering down at her shoes bashfully. 

"Here you go," Kevin said suddenly, setting down two bottles and winking, the grin on his face telling you Fiona showing up not long after you arrived hadn't been a mere coincidence. "I think you've two got some catching up to do."

"Thank you, Kev." Fiona smiled, taking one of them into her hand and settling down on one of the stools. She watched as you did the same, bringing the bottle to her lips and drinking before sighing and leaning back on the stool. "I didn't think I'd see you again. I... I thought you were gone for good." 

"Yeah, well... I couldn't stay away for long."

"I'd say five years is pretty long." She chuckled, somewhat dryly. "But I'm glad you left. I was never good for you. This place was never good for you. You might've ended up like the Milkovich boys. They've only gotten worse since you left, you know. Running around the streets, stealing shit, breaking everything they can get their hands on." Fiona shook her head. 

"We weren't good for each other, Fiona. We were kids. We didn't know what we were doing." You told her softly, rubbing your finger up and down the side of the cool moist bottle. She smiled sadly and exhaled shakily, scratching her forehead as her gaze dropped onto the bar.

"I still don't know what I'm doing." She admitted quietly. "Taking care of all those kids. It- It's tough. And- And I was... I was scared when you left. I mean, they were like our kids and suddenly you were gone and- and I was taking care of them alone. They'd ask when you were coming back- I mean, shit, Frank asked too." 

"Well, I'm back." You smiled, reaching out to gingerly take her hand into yours. The ghost of a genuine smile spread across her lips and she rubbed at her eye before the first tear could fall. "And I want to help you and the kids, Fiona. Just like old times."

[hamiltonaf]

Hi bestie, can i request how lewis would help you when you have insomnia? Mine is really a pain in the ass this week, could use a distraction

Night Owl | Lewis Hamilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello loves ! Apologies for the delay in writing requests…I fell really ill over the week and was so out of writing :( but I’m back. Thanks anon for requesting, I hope you enjoy. Requests are still open .xx

Another night that I found it hard to sleep. It was like this for over a week because of stress and anxiety. I don’t even have anything to stress about, it’s just how my mind works when my brains thinks I have so much to do and I won’t complete everything I want to do in time.

It wasn’t that big of a deal to sleep at early hours of the morning all alone because I didn’t have Lewis with me so I’d wake up late. However, now that Lewis is around, I feel the need to sleep and wake up at a normal time so that we could do more things together as a couple since I hardly see him anyway.

Once in a while I’ll experience an adrenaline rush in the middle of the night and I’m so full of energy, I could literally eat a whole meal, probably even host my own fake concert and I still wouldn’t be tired till around 4 or 5am.

I joined Lewis and his family for the start of the summer break before Lewis was off on his boys trip. I was over the moon to see Lewis after a whole 2 weeks. Doesn’t seem that long but felt like a lifetime for me.

We spent the day with the family catching up and playing with Kaiden and Willow. We played countless rounds of Uno and spent most of our time out in the sun. Watching Lewis with kids and spending time with him had me thinking about him leaving on his boys trip soon - anxiety trigger because the thought of us being apart again soon.

I swear I’m not selfish… we video call everyday and I physically see him every weekend or every second weekend, but with our schedules clashing I can’t even spend time with him when I’m free because I’m working. Race weekends also fly by so quickly, before you know it, it’s already Sunday and I’m on a flight back home whilst he takes a flight to another race.

I just would’ve wanted to spend some more time with him during this summer break and it could make up for the lost time.

I didn’t even realise I was daydreaming until Lewis snapped his fingers in front of me. “We’re at the hotel… you’ve been so quiet for the past 15 minutes. Is everything okay ?” He asked softly. “Oh yeah. Uhm everything is fine… don’t worry” I faked a smile and exited the car. He followed behind me back to our room, it was quite evident to Lewis that I wasn’t my usual self. When we reached our room, he grabbed me by my hand and pulled me flush against his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay ? You seem off. Is something bothering you ?” He raised a brow.

“I’m fine really” I gave him a soft smile then pecked his cheek. Just as I was about to leave his grasp, he held me tighter. “Babe I can literally tell when you’re lying. You pull that fake smile on me when something is bother you” he pointed out. I immediately felt embarrassed. “What ? No” I scoffed and giggled. “And you do that as well” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay well I’m not in the mood to discuss it right now, maybe later” I trailed as I pecked his lips and walked over to the bathroom. I had a shower and to my surprise, Lewis had fallen off to sleep. I on the other hand was full of energy, but might as well try to sleep.

I got into bed and cuddled up close to him. In hopes I would fall off to sleep, unfortunately I was too restless and ended up turning from side to side. I know he’s a light sleeper and I felt bad at the thought of him waking up because of me. A whole hour of trying to sleep and I gave up. I jumped out of bed and went to our lounge to watch something to pass some time. About half and hour into the movie, I got a shock when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

The movie I was watching had me in a depresso mode where I was bawling my eyes out. “Oh my- love are you okay ?” He asked concerned. “Oh my god. Babe you scared me” I screamed as I placed a hand on my heart. “Didn’t mean to scare you, if anything, you scared me… why did you leave me alone in bed ?” He pouted as he jumped over the couch to sit right next to me. “I can’t sleep” I sighed. “No worries, I can help” he smiled. “Lew it’s not one of those nights where I randomly can’t sleep, I have insomnia. It’s much harder to sleep when you’re an insomniac” I pouted and laid my head on his shoulder. “Well what’s keeping my girl up ? You didn’t tell me earlier, I wanna hear it from you now because I’m concerned” he said as he turned to look at me.

“Okay don’t take this the wrong way. My brain overthinks the smallest of things, when normally I couldn’t care. We’ll blame it on some chemical reaction on my brain, maybe lack of serotonin I think-“ he cut me off. “Babe. You’re rambling. Calm down. Deep breaths and tell me straight up how you’re feeling” he smiled as he cupped my face. “Look, you know how much I love you and it hurts me how little we see each other. My mind for some odd reason isn’t its normal self because all my mind thinks about is how little time we actually spend together …” I said embarrassed. “Look I’m all for you going on your boys trip, but I had to be honest with what’s on my mind” I gave him a soft smile.

“Aww baby you’re so cute. You want me all to yourself ?” He smirked and raised a brow. “Low-key yes, but no” I said as I then slapped my forehead in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry that sounds so dumb” I covered my whole face with my hands. “Darling, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about” he said as he pulled my hands away from my face and caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I’m just glad you’re honest with me. Sorry babe for hurting you, why didn’t you tell me sooner ?” He cooed. “I thought it was stupid and I was just being dumb” I shrugged.

“Never. Your feelings are valid, always. Consider me all yours for the rest of the summer” he smiled as he pulled me in for a short kiss. “Wait, what ? Lew no ! You can’t not go on your boys trip” I argued. “This is not a debate love” he grinned. “But Lew, you can’t not-“ “End of discussion. Let’s go” he cut me off as he stood up and carried me in his arms towards our bedroom.

“Now I definitely won’t sleep, you’re making me feel awful as if I’m holding you back which I’m really not. My mind is just racing at the thought of how quickly time is going and how we’re barely together, this has nothing to do with your mates by the way because I think they’re all amazing. My brain is just not braining these past few days” I pouted as he laid me in bed and jumped in to cuddle me closer to him.

“Babe just don’t worry about it, that’s the least of my concerns right now” he said as he nuzzled his face into my neck. “Lew !” I groaned. “You need to sleep and I’m doing my best to help put an end to your insomnia” he smiled into my neck as he snaked an arm around my waist. He placed soft kisses along my shoulders before turning me around in his grasp. “I really love you” he smiled. “I really love you too Lew Lew” I felt my cheeks flush as he pulled my face closer and connected our lips.

I felt so at ease in his embrace knowing he’s right with me after quite a while of being apart. I guess all I needed was a goodnight kiss.

[ssslime]

nocte solitudo

his mind tends to wander at night.

➥ astarion x gn!tav, ranger!tav, some angst, a lil comfort, mentions of blood

It wasn’t often Astarion felt rested.

Meditation brought him some reprieve, at least, during nights where the camp’s quiet was only interrupted by the distant buzz of insects and the sound of the trees above them. Sometimes silence was too loud — too thick and heavy for him to relax.

Astarion shifted in his bedroll. His ruby gaze was caught upward, piercing into a little coin-sized hole in the cloth ceiling.

Tav would probably stitch that up quickly, if he asked. They’re good with crafty little things like that, all nimble fingers and a brow furrowed in concentration.

He rolled over.

A shard of light caught in Astarion’s eye for a second. The tiniest bit of moonlight bounced off of his daggers, tossed unceremoniously atop his travel bag in the corner of the tent. Smooth silver gave way to crusted, dark blood and grime near the sharpened tips. Astarion’s lips twitched downward.

He was hungry. He hadn’t fed in a while, and he’d need to hunt something down within the next few nights. Things had just felt hectic as of late — why exactly Tav insisted on helping every dripping wet, sniffling fellow they found on the side of the road, he’d never know. It grated his nerves sometimes, how it seemed they were unable to say no to any sad little sob story fed to them. He would know; it’s worked for him before.

But, Tav would probably help him hunt down some wild boar, or maybe even a bear to hold him off for a while, if he asked. They’re quite the hunter.

He sat up.

Outside, he could hear Scratch idling around. The dog’s eager nose gave him away; sniffing and snorting softly, Astarion knew the pup was poking around their trunk of food nearby. With a sigh, he stood to his feet and parted the curtain door. He wouldn’t be settled any time soon, anyways.

The night air felt cool on his skin as he stepped outside. All was calm, as expected. A crackling, dying fire laid in the center of camp, dimly lighting the area and casting weak shadows along the surrounding tree line. Astarion let his eyes wander over to the white dog some yards away.

Scratch lifted his head and peered right back. His tail swayed lightly back and forth and his ears perked up.

“Hungry, are you?” Astarion asked quietly, looking between the dog and the closed chest. Scratch simply tilted his head to the side, his big, pleading eyes working wonders on the supposed stone cold vampire.

Astarion sighed. “Fine, fine — but nobody hears about this, understood?”

He wasn’t sure why he was talking to a damned dog. He reminded himself of how strange and silly Tav looked whenever they would communicate with animals. It was nearly second nature to them, it seemed, and perhaps that’s what it was — a survival technique, like all their other skills, developed out of necessity. He could relate, and that thought alone made his stomach turn a little.

Thoughts like these came to Astarion at the worst times. Moments where he was free from distraction, with countless minutes under his belt to ruminate and dissect, even when all he wanted was to simply close his eyes and let time pass like sand between his fingers.

He tossed the dog a sausage link. He knew what it was like to have a feast right in front of you, and not be allowed to indulge.

In his mind’s eye, Astarion could picture slinking across the stagnant landscape of their sleepy little camp. Working with the shadows to blend seamlessly into Tav’s patchwork wonder of a tent. Watching their chest rise and fall with deep, steady breath — their lashes flickering just the slightest bit over their cheeks. Feeling their pulse thrum beneath his lips, their breath catching, their hand weaving into the curls at the nape of his neck.

Tav would probably let him feed, if he asked. They’d shared their blood before; succulent and sweet and mind-numbingly warm as it slipped down his parched throat. They’re such a delicious treat.

But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t ask such a selfish thing.

He sighed.

Change is difficult. Surely his life was leaps and bounds better than it was before; no longer did he have to prowl taverns and dark streets for vulnerable prey in the form of drunk and lonely hearts. But this… duality inside of him made him sick. He wished so desperately for things to be different.

He wished they could’ve been another name and face to discard the morning after.

“Astarion?”

He wished he didn’t see parts of himself in them.

“Is everything alright? It’s very late.”

He wished he could be selfish with them, because it’d be so painfully easy. But he couldn’t.

He glanced up, soaking in Tav’s tousled hair and squinted expression as it grew closer. They rubbed one eye with the back of their hand and furrowed their brow, watching him expectantly. Scratch, of course, trotted over happily upon seeing his favorite person, and leaned up against their legs. Tav dropped their hand to rub along the dog’s snout and cheek in a show of idle affection.

“I was just… thinking,” Astarion replied finally. “Feeling a bit restless, I suppose. And what of you, darling?”

Tav blinked their bleary eyes, watching him for a moment before opening their mouth again.

“Would you come lay with me?”

It wasn’t often Astarion felt rested. After 200 years, it was something he was used to. His nights were filled with crushing guilt or staggering loneliness, doomed to wallow in the dark and filth of his seemingly endless existence.

But, perhaps change is a good thing. Perhaps this is what it’s like to be born anew, to shed your old skin in favor of a life newer, better than before. It’s unsettling, it’s sensitive.

Astarion pondered this as he settled in behind Tav. The scent of lavender curled around him as soon as he laid down on their bedroll. He didn’t mind — it had quickly become a source of comfort, whether he’d admit it to himself or not.

“Thank you,” Tav whispered after a few moments of quiet, “it feels better with you here.”

Astarion slid his ruby gaze over to settle on the back of their head. He turned onto his side, weaving his arm under theirs to rest on their waist. Tav relaxed easily into his gentle hold, fitting their bodies together like they were shaped from the same clay.

“You don’t have to thank me, dove. I’m just a few tents away,” he leaned closer, ghosting his lips over their shoulder with a gentle kiss, full of all the warmth and affection he never knew he was capable of before, “all you have to do is ask.”

[freimeka]

am i the only one who's about to explode by thinking of a bodyguard ghost??? like he's... extremely on another level please help me !! i actually hate this and might delete this pls forgive any mistakes ans typos it's 3am . i feel like i forgot some tws and tags but oh well idc

★ obv bodyguard!ghost + pwp + just unholy thoughts + descriptions of masturbating + very brief mention of idk just a heated argument + ghost is kinda voyeur here

You have no idea how the two of you ended up like this. You clearly remember that you were screaming at Ghost's face. The reason was something completely dumb...like, he probably insulted one of your friends and you just exploded. You've been feeling on the edge because of him for the last week now—you cannot even count the times that your hand, completely out of your control, has traveled down on your body once you were alone to touch yourself.

As you think of him.

That fucker.

Ghost can easily get under your skin without even trying, it's like a love-hate relationship. You've known him for many long years—he has always been right there, next to you whenever you turn your head around to see him. He's protected you, spoiled you maybe even more than your parents did. Well, there have also been countless times that he annoyed you so much that you just wanted to slap him across his face but you just let them pass. You're used to Ghost, and he's used to you.

You should be mad at him now, your body should be on fire just by how angry you're at him but... your hand keeps traveling down on your body. You get comfortable on your bed, letting your body meet with the soft mattress as your legs immediately spread apart as if on autopilot mode. One of your hands easily travels underneath your shirt to touch your perked nipples, your fingertips pinching them just to feel a bit more. Your other hand slips past your soaked panties, and you realize that you're embarrassingly wet—with every move of your fingers you can hear a slick sound that's faint, yet loud enough to echo in your empty room.

You throw your head back when your trembling fingers start to rub circles against your clit, gathering the wetness and spreading it all over to make it easier for you to move your fingers in circles. Your eyes are shut, and you feel yourself taking short and erratic breaths as your fingers keep rubbing circles. No matter how you do or what you do, the mere idea of being stretched by Ghost's cock just doesn't leave your mind. Your fingers don't feel thick enough, they don't reach the parts that you want them to reach—and that's getting frustrating. You're usually so careful about being quiet in order not to get caught, but the feeling is overwhelming; you think that you might cry. That's why a soft, yet a bit louder than ever whine falls from your lips. You don't think that it's dangerous because everyone except Ghost is outside, your parents work long hours and that's why Ghost has become a babysitter as well as a bodyguard—that's what he says, but you know that he's trying to annoy you.

Since you two have argued like fifteen minutes ago, and his mad and hoarse voice somehow made you wet, Ghost must be outside on the balcony. He's probably smoking.

Right?

You feel your bed being crushed down under someone else's weight, and you want to open your eyes but the scent is all too familiar. And you feel like you're about to explode from embarrassment. Ghost rests his hands on your bare thighs, his fingers grazing the soft skin with such gentleness that you struggle to hold back a whimper. It's a small touch— it's obvious that he's testing the waters first.

"You're making it hard to be around you," you hear him whispering, his voice is dangerously low. You finally decide to open your eyes, to see him without his damn mask and he's already looking up at you. However, he breaks the eye contact as soon as you look back at him—he's now looking at your thighs, his lips touch your inner thigh as he speaks. "But you're also making it hard not to be around you."

You can't believe he's admitting it.

"Please—Ghost, I—," you barely whisper, your voice is shaky as your fingertips burn to feel Ghost's soft hair. "I'm... I just," it's impossible for you to explain yourself, but then again you don't have to do it since everything's pretty clear. Ghost is breathing so heavily against the skin of your inner thigh, and he's not done—for fuck's sakez he's not even started yet. Ghost's hands skillfully reach down to your sides, and he drags you against him to make you feel just how much he wants you. You hear the sounds of fabric as your body is pulled down on the bed, you're almost at the edge of the bed now while Ghost is kneeling down in front of you. He doesn't speak for a while, and you feel yourself get even more stressed. It's obvious that he has no problems with what you've been doing, but damn it, say something.

"You're perfect," he hisses, he sounds almost out of breath as he whispers against your skin. You feel him pulling your panties up, letting the already soaked fabric cover your wet pussy again. "You're so perfect."

And that's probably all you need to hear, you're way too gone, too overwhelmed to care about the consequences. You can worry about them later, but you know that this is mutual, and he wants you as much as you want him. He kisses you, it's a gentle peck on the lips first. But then, he gets harder and harder, pushing you back against the bed and holding onto your hips tighter— and you realize that he's making you think about only how badly you want him inside you. The way his big, calloused hands are touching your bare thighs, the way his kisses are getting more and more intense... He's getting you to feel hot enough to make you melt in his presence.

"I was waiting for the fun part to come," he breathes out, "But you take damn too long."

There's a moment of silence.

"I can help you with that."

You make a sound like a whine, like a soft cry of pleasure—all of those anxious thoughts that say you've embarrassed yourself are gone in a minute. Your body aches, you can feel your heartbeat getting faster just by the thought of Ghost finally filling you up to the brim.

He leans in, his broad shoulders are enough to make you disappear under his body as he presses his lips against yours desperately. There's something almost feral in the way he kisses you, as if he's even more impatient than you are. As if he's been waiting for this to happen for a long time.

Ghost's breath grows more and more desperate as the two of you kiss; his tongue licking into your mouth as your teeth bite into his bottom lip, your bodies are pressed against each other as much as they can. The feeling of him rubbing circles against your clit through the fabric of your panties drives you crazy and you feel your breath being stolen from your lungs. You need to feel him, somehow; it doesn't matter if he pushes his fingers or decides that he can pound into you, you just need him. Not through the damn panties, you need to get rid of them.

He's kissing you fiercely now, his tongue tasting your lips and then sliding inside your mouth greedily. His hands are working on your trembling body, touching your pussy through the fabric; you feel like crying, he should take it off.

"This feels so good," Ghost says, his voice is deep and it feels like he's speaking in your head. "Doesn't it? Don't you think that I can do a better job of filling up that cunt?" Ghost asks, and you know that he's taunting you—but you can't stay under that now, can you?

"Take them off," you breathlessly whimper, it's something like both a beg and a demand—Ghost can take whatever suits him. "Please, just take them off."

Ghost lets out a groan, and it's clear that hearing what you just ask him to do is driving him insane. If he was desperate to kiss you before, he's desperate to make you bury your face into the damn pillow and pound into you until your pussy remembers the shape of his dick.

"You're so wet," he chuckles deep in his throat, staring down at you for a moment as if he's trying to gather himself before he gives you what you want.

"I should keep your panties with me, you know," he lets out a deep sigh as his fingers hook around your panties and pull them down slowly but surely. As he keeps talking to you, his voice lowers. "You're not the only desperate one here."

He finally pushes a finger in, letting your walls stretch slightly to the feeling of his thick index finger—but you still feel like that's not thick enough. You're greedy when it comes to him. Your moans turn into whines as he adds the second, and the thirs finger without any prior warning. He's moving his hand quite fast now, causing your legs to tremble as your fingers wrap around his thick biceps—all you can do is cry out, whines and whimpers and string of curses fall from your lips as Ghost toys with you. Your body tenses up when his hand starts to move a bit faster, his fingers curling inside you until he finds a spot that will have you begging for more. He succeeds, and it causes your walls to get tighter around his fingers.

"Do that again for me," he mumbles against your mouth, breathlessly. "Do that again for me when I'm inside you, baby."

"It would be such a disgrace if I never tried to make you feel good," he whispers. His breath is hot against your neck. "But look at you... what happened to that fierce girl? All I'm seeing is an obedient little girl, my sweet girl, who's already getting dumb without being filled up properly."

"Oh, I hate you," you reply, your voice is low and filled with desperation as you wet your lips with your tongue. The more Ghost makes you wait, the more you feel like crying.

"Of course, you do," he replies, his voice is full of sarcasm. "That's why you're dying to get your pussy filled by me, correct? You're lucky that you're not the only one who does this," as Ghost speaks, you feel him moving around—and soon after the sound of his belt coming undone is heard. He doesn't even bother to get rid of his clothes properly, he just pushes his trousers down before he pushes your shirt above just a bit to indicate that he wants you to take it off.

Who are you to say no?

Your trembling fingers grab the hem of your t-shirt and you take it off with one swift motion, letting the piece of clothing fall to the floor.

You're way beyond gone at this point, your mind is empty, so no words come out from your mouth. You feel Ghost pulling you closer to himself on the bed. He's resting his knees on the edge of the bed as leverage while holding you by your thighs and making you spread your legs as much as you can. He's always wanted to touch you, fill you up, and the way you're looking at him through your heavy-lidded eyes is making it even harder for him to resist you.

"You know," he murmurs, "I would imagine us all over the place— my room, the backseat of cars or a damn parking lot, some closet, bending you over any surface that I find as soon as we step back in the house." His voice is thick with lust, it's like he's ready to devour you, consume you until there's nothing left of you. "I imagined you in my lap, your legs open for me, and..."

Ghost doesn't finish his sentence and instead, he finally gives you what you've been craving all along. He's big and thick, and the moment you feel the tip of his cock pushing inside you let out a soft yelp—Ghost is slow until he's fully in you, and just as you think that he'll give you some time to adjust to his size, he mercilessly thrusting. Sharp and powerful, almost abusing your cunt as his big hands spread your pussy even more just for his hungry gaze.

"I always felt like I was going to explode." You can hear him grunting, letting out low and deep sounds of pleasure as he mercilessly fucks into you. Your body moves up and down on the bed, putting on a show for Ghost that'll just drive him insane with how you look. He leans in, and his tongue licks hot stripes all over your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue flicks around it, his teeth gently and teasingly bite into it just to see your reaction. Every time you're slightly overwhelmed and sensitive, your walls clamp around his cock, making Ghost let out a string of curses as his grip on you tightens more and more.

He wraps his arms around your waist, gently rolling over to let you lie on top of him—his body presses into the mattress. You find yourself sitting on top of his body, his arms wrapped around you and his face in between your breasts. "Ride me," he whispers. "I wanna come inside you like this," and he's so, so cruel—how can he talk to you like that when he knows you're so, so, so sensitive. You whine, your arms tightly wrap around his neck as you start to do as you're told; but you're so close, so, so, so close that your movements become sloppier and messier.

"Can't," you gulp. "I can't, Ghost—," your words are breathless and low, your vision is blurry as you come all over his cock without even having the chance of letting him know. But that's Ghost, and Ghost knows you very well. He knows you better than you know yourself. "Yes, sweetheart," he whispers against your chest. "Go ahead, show me how you do it. I promise I'll make you feel even better than this."

[cherriegyuu]

memories of us | lsm

pairing: seokmin x f!reader - soulmate!au summary: every night seokmin dreams of his past lifes, when he met and fell for his soulmate countless times. genre: fluff, angst word count: 11.9k warnings: reader has really low self esteem a/n: this is not, in any way, connected to elevator. both stories are centered around soulmates, however the rules are different. in elevator people carry marks that vanish from their bodies once they meet their soulmate, here is the bond is created by eye contact. i hope you enjoy it :)

Today, when I woke up, the first thing I thought about was you, but that’s not something new. You’re always the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last one before I go to sleep. My mind is consumed by thoughts of you the entire day. There’s not a single minute when you don’t make your presence noticed,  even if you’re not really here by my side. The funny thing is that I haven’t met you yet and somehow you are the only one in my mind. 

I started to dream of you when I was sixteen. At the time I had no idea of what was going on, I didn’t know what Memorous were, and I couldn’t even phantom why I was dreaming of an older version of myself. I was young and the naive teenager version of me thought that it was something everyone goes through. Ah, maybe these are memories from my past lives. I was right about that part, but I didn’t know the length of what was going on with me. 

It was only a month later when I told anyone about it. Because those dreams were something no one ever mentioned around me before, so I was afraid to speak about them. What if, because of those dreams, people started to label me as a freak? I had already a very negative reputation, so to say, I didn’t want to make it worse. When I finally mustered the courage to talk to someone about it, I figured that I should tell my mom about it. She was a mother, my mom, and like all moms she would probably know what to do. 

She didn’t. 

For a while, she just sat there and stared at me, not like I was a freak but as if I had become a stranger. I was no longer Lee Seokmin, her eldest son who on most days seemed like the youngest. I saw her eyes change that day, from a mother who loved her son to a woman who didn’t know who the boy in front of her was.  

It was also the first time that someone told me that I was cursed.  

None of us could be sure whether I was cursed or not, but she said it with so much belief that I knew that it had to be true. 

I don’t think I have ever felt so alone. Before my mother said those words to me, those words that would be forever stuck in my brain, you are cursed, Seokmin, and there’s nothing any of us can do to change that, I used to be normal - or as normal as a sixteen-year-old hyperactive boy could be. But the second those words were uttered, released into the world, something inside me changed.   

I think that the best way to describe it would be a click, I felt a click inside my heart. There’s no other word I could use to describe it. 

After everything that happened in the span of minutes, I changed. I started to be more restricted, no one else in the world knew about the dreams or about me being a Memorous. My circle of friends got smaller and smaller. What if, by accident, I told one of them something about the dreams, about you? That couldn’t happen. 

In reality, I didn’t have many friends. You know, the kind you tell secrets to and are really close to. Those were the kinds of people that I wanted to avoid at all costs. I wasn’t a loner, though. I had people I could hang out with, people that I would go to a bar or a club with, but I liked to be alone. 

It’s weird, isn’t it? I had friends but I wasn’t actually friends with any of them. I wasn’t a loner but the thing I enjoyed the most was being alone. 

When I turned eighteen and high school was finally over, I moved away from home. For two years I saved every cent that I could, my main goal was to just leave. I studied my eyes off in school so I could get into a university that was as far away as possible from home. I needed to get a scholarship so I wouldn’t need to ask for help from my parents. 

Doing those two things made me feel somewhat proud of myself. It was like I was telling them see just because you think I’m cursed doesn’t mean that I can’t do what I want. 

 Let me explain to you how the dreams work: every night I dream of you, no exception but every night is a different life. 

This is how Memorous must live. I remember every single thing about our past lives, all the details that people usually forget about their lives. I remember them, more or less. I know what you were wearing on April 18th, 1811; I know what was the first word you said to me in Madrid, it was a curse by the way; the first time we bonded.  

Sometimes it feels so real that I think if I look by my side, I’ll see you there. That couldn’t be true, I haven’t seen you in this lifetime - I would never be able to let you go if I had. 

There’s a trick about being a Memorous though. Once I fall asleep and dream of a different life everything I dreamed the night before vanishes and I can’t remember anything. At first, I thought that it happened like that because sometimes we forget about the dreams we have. It was as if it simply vanished from my mind, and I could only remember it when I dreamt of the same life again. It’s like a selective memory kind of thing. 

You know, the feeling of a dream being so real that you could either wake up in panic or just really happy and satisfied? 

For me, every dream was like that. If I held your hand in my dream, when I woke up I would still get the feel of your skin against mine; if we fought for whatever reason I would still feel the sadness and the anger lingering in my body. 

When I understood what was happening, I started to write down the dreams, every little detail that I could remember. Slowly I started to find a pattern in the dreams, slowly I learned to tell the lives apart and so I started notebooks. It’s a little weird, I know, but I had to keep track of our lives. Maybe, at some level, you might think that I’m crazy or that I’m a stalker. But could it be considered stalking when it’s my own life? 

I can’t wait to meet you.  Although I haven’t actually met you or even seen you this time around, I feel like I have known you all my life. Is this the feeling we’ll get when we finally meet, this feeling of fullness? 

I wonder if you feel that too. 

Out of all our lives together I have a favorite one. I mean, it is expected, isn’t it? After such a long time of living countless lives, every day being a different person - although I’m ultimately the same - we are bound to have a favorite one. 

If I do say so myself that life is very much Shakespearean. Okay, so imagine this: two families who were very powerful but were opposites and hated each other with a burning passion. And there you have it. Sounds very much like Romeo and Juliet, doesn’t it? Maybe if it happened a couple hundred years earlier, in England, then maybe I could say that we actually inspired him, but we happened far too late. 

You know, I still remember the first time I saw you that time around. I think that maybe that bond was the strongest one we’ve had, probably because we were supposed to hate each other. The idea of an unexpected bond between two opposite families is kind of thrilling, isn’t it? 

We met at a party. Because our families couldn’t even stand to be in the same space together, mostly our dads - why is it always the dads though? -, they send you and me to represent the families. As you can probably imagine, we had no idea of what the other person looked like. 

So, there I was walking inside this immense ballroom, and you were the first person I saw. Looking at you I just knew that you were out of place, that kind of environment wasn’t one you felt comfortable in. At that point, you weren’t looking at me but when you finally did, it was like the entire world stopped. I felt my heart thump inside my chest, but I could feel you too. I saw as you went wide-eyed. You took a step closer to me but then, realizing what you did, you took a couple of steps back. For the entire night, we didn’t approach each other but my eyes never left yours, as yours never left mine. 

We followed each other through the night.  I got angry, really angry, when someone wanted to talk to me because all I wanted to do was look at you. Whenever my feelings changed, I would feel yours changing too. You felt mostly curiosity. How could this man, someone you had never seen before, catch your attention in such a way that you couldn’t look at anything or anyone else? 

Back then it wasn’t like today, you know. The bond happened more quietly, or maybe we only thought it did. Though the bond is something that has been around since the beginning of time, we only found out about it much later in life. I suppose that back then we still didn’t know much about it. Maybe the change everyone felt around a couple that was bonding was there but because we didn’t know what it was supposed to be we just overlooked it. 

Back to the story. 

You were the first one to make a move to leave but I couldn’t let you go, no way. I followed you out and much to my own surprise you were waiting for me, because somehow you knew that I had to go after you. We didn’t say much, just promised to meet each other a couple of days later. 

From that moment on, things took off, or as much as you could possibly expect from a couple in the early nineteen century. We would always meet each other. Everything was exciting because no one could know about what we were doing. Besides the whole ‘my family hates yours’ problem that we had, there was also the problem that both of us were promised to other people. You were supposed to marry a young Duque and I had to marry the daughter of a rich family. If we were against it before, imagine what it was like after we found out about how we felt for each other. 

Our happiness didn’t last very long. We were careless and, although we were trying to hide it, we weren’t as stealthy about it as we liked to imagine. 

It’s needless to say that when our families found out they were far from happy. They didn’t try to kill us or anything that dramatic, but they started to rush things. Your marriage that was supposed to happen only a year later was set to two weeks later; mine was happening in a few days. Of course, neither of us accepted that. 

On the night before my wedding, I felt something trying to pull me. It was like my legs were moving on their own and I saw myself walking out of the house and into the city. I found you there, all alone in the middle of the street, staring at the church I was supposed to get married in. I realized then that the sadness I felt was only partially mine, a lot of it was coming from you. I didn’t really understand how it was possible for me to feel everything that you were feeling but I knew that there wasn’t another explanation for it. 

You couldn’t control your emotions and tears were running down your cheeks, you tried hard to push them aside, but it was of no use. The more you tried to make the tears stop the more they fell. I couldn’t control myself by then. You were afraid when my arm went around you but once you knew that it was me you turned in my arms. The tears that ran down your face were no longer out of pain and hurt, they were because we were finally reunited. 

We ran away. We didn’t take anything with us. There was no time to go home and get clothes, or say goodbye. We were sure that if we were together then everything would be alright. Because we had each other nothing in the world nothing could hurt us. 

That's… that’s as far as the dreams go. I’d like to think that we had a happy ending. 

 Two years into college I finally understood what my mom meant when she said that I am cursed. 

You see, the dreams I have at night are just fragments, tiny little pieces of an entire puzzle. I could only see a day or a week, at most. But the thing is that I only saw us young, meeting, starting the bond, falling in love. Not once did my dreams show us a little older, getting married, having kids, or even if things didn’t work between us. I never dreamed of those things. 

At first, my guess was that the dreams were trying to show me a way to get to you, find you in a world that’s filled with billions of people. That wasn’t the case. 

One night I dreamed of you dying. I woke up in despair. Instead of the sweet dreams, filled with warm touches and whispered words, I faced images of you surrounded by blood, a lifeless body in my arms. 

For a while I wanted to make myself believe that it was just a nightmare, that it would eventually go away but I knew it wasn’t that simple, nothing ever is. 

I kept seeing the same thing for days and every day it got worse and worse. It got to the point where I stopped sleeping at all. Every time I closed my eyes I could see your body on the ground, eyes wide open. I knew that it wasn’t true, but I felt like you were looking at me, like you blamed me for your death. 

I searched it up. If the same thing happened to other Memorous I wanted to know how to make it stop, if I could even do something like that. From task number one I had problems. 

For one, Memorous doesn’t like to be clear about it, we are heavily judged by it because no one understands what it is like to be one. Most people just think that we are making a fuss over nothing, that knowing what your soulmate looks like, what that person likes and dislikes makes it much easier to find the person you are supposed to bond with. What they don’t know is that, like everyone else in the world, people’s taste, personalities and all else changes. In one of your lives, you were a dancer, the stage was your home, and being watched by people was something you thrived off of but in the next one you were a shy girl who couldn’t bear the thought of people looking at her (this actually happened, just so you know). 

Second, there aren’t many Memorous in the world. We are considered an anomaly, there are very few of us. I believe that we will only be able to understand why we are born this way when a scientist is born as a Memorous. 

But not everything is a lost hope! God bless the people who aren’t scared to share their stories because they want to help other people. I found this post, on a very weird and hard to find website, saying that there is a way to break this ‘curse’. That’s the good news. The bad news is that it’s not up to us to end the cycle. Well, technically it is but it’s not a choice that we can make. It’s confusing, I know. 

Apparently, the only way for us to stay together for a long time is if both of us are born Memorous, meaning that you and I must know our past lives. The one who wrote the post was a young boy, claiming that it was his grandparents’ story and that both of them were still alive and fine. 

It’s not much but at least it’s something. I can’t help but wonder if this time around you already know who I am. 

I saw you today, or at the very least I thought that I did. I looked at my right and you were right there! Your eyes went anywhere but me, it was like you were purposely trying to avoid me. I went after you, called after you (even though I don’t know what you’re called in this life). It seemed that you were running away from me, though I’m sure that wasn’t the case. How could you run from someone you don’t know? 

On days like this, I think I’m starting to lose my mind. The dreams are starting to feel more real than ever, and I don’t know what to do. Is it because we are getting closer to each other? Maybe we are in the same city? I hope so. 

I’ve hoping for something, just a tiny signal, for the longest time. Was today it? I think about seeing you, how the dreams are now just a repeat of all the first meetings before, how every day when I wake up I have a feeling inside my heart telling me that we are getting closer to each other. 

Are we? Does this mean that we are getting closer? 

Maybe this is the universe’s way of letting us know. Because our lives, all of them, have been so messed up that this is fate’s way of apologizing for all the crap that it put us through. 

I’m going to find you soon. Hopefully, wherever you are you’re also looking for me and that will probably make our lives that much easier. 

You closed the journal and put it aside. You managed to hold yourself back while reading, you didn’t want the tears in the back of your eyes to fall on the pages, the precious pages that told your story through Seokmin’s eyes. 

It had been hard to come to terms with the idea, the fact, that he was your soulmate but over the years you became more and more used to it. Your lives were too different, your backgrounds complete opposites, and yet - somehow - you were it for each other. 

The first time you saw him on TV, you clearly remembered how you felt. It was as if someone had just punched you in the chest. On the other side of the tiny screen was the boy - now the man - you had been dreaming about for years of your life. You never thought that you would find him, especially so soon but then again if you thought about all your dreams, both of you seemed young - maybe even younger than your 25 years. 

You stayed away from the TV for about a month after that, but you knew that it wouldn’t last much longer than that. The entire time Seokmin was in the back of your mind, always making sure that you wouldn’t forget him. That was simply something that would never happen, you forgetting about him - even if that was one of the many things that you wanted to do. Eventually, you found yourself turning the TV on again, watching every single program, every video, and buying any magazine that featured him. 

Thinking back at it, you felt sort of stupid for doing those things and not just trying to look for him. You were right, your soulmate was Seokmin but your own insecurities were holding you back. Out of everything you had, there was one problem you considered to be major: you had nothing to offer him. 

You were the kid no one wanted, the kid that had been tossed into an orphanage at the age of eight, and no one had gone back to take claim. Like a monkey on a tree, you moved from house to house without a chance of staying, even the prospect of making friends didn’t exist. 

Growing up you always dreamed of meeting your soulmate, imagined the way you would finally meet the other person. In your mind you were always the hotshot, someone who could make anything happen with a simple word. As you got older you wanted to just live a decent life but all you had was a shitty rented apartment in a sketchy area of the city, a shower that didn’t run with hot water, and were living paycheck by paycheck. 

That wasn’t the life you wanted, it was a life that you were almost embarrassed over. How could you ever share a life with someone when you could hardly sustain yourself? That wasn’t possible. 

But then it happened. You got dragged by your friend to go to the TV station and watched as Seokmin recorded a program. Jun said that he wouldn’t notice you, that you would sit far in the back, and you could put your bangs down and cover your eyes so there wouldn’t be a single chance of the bond happening. 

It was a lie, you knew that. Jun lied straight to your face, and you let yourself fall for it. You couldn’t say no to him, much less to his kids. Hana was so excited about it. Watching Seokmin on TV was her favorite thing in the world, more than dancing or watching cartoons. He’s pretty and funny, my soulmate has to be just like him, she said. It was funny and endearing to watch. Sometimes you just wanted to meet Seokmin because of her, because she was so in love with him. The day you decided to take a step forward was also the day you took eleven steps back. 

“Are excited?” Jun bumped his shoulder into yours and smiled. 

He could be the kind of person your silly heart would fall for if there weren’t any soulmates. Jun was essentially a good person, with a heart made of gold and filled with so much love that his kids would never go a day in life thinking that he didn’t love them. 

“No" yet another lie. 

You were excited, a little too excited. Or maybe your excitement was actually just fear. Fear that the bond might happen, fear that Seokmin would be disappointed in who you were, fear that maybe your dreams would come true. 

“You said that Seokmin is pretty” Hana called out. 

A moment of weakness that you regretted. 

“Handsome, honey. Boys are handsome” 

She repeated the word a few times as if trying to memorize but everyone knew that she would just keep calling boys pretty. 

“Why are you carrying her around like she’s three?” 

Hana sighed and hugged Jun’s neck, her head on his shoulder. 

“I’m daddy’s little girl” 

Jun looked like he was about to cry and Hanbin just groaned, his sister’s act wasn’t something that he was too fond of. You could only smile at them. They were almost too cute for you to handle. 

You were one of the first people to get in so there were still a lot of empty spots to choose from. The second you and Jun started to move towards the back Hanbin and Hana protested.  Of course, they didn’t want to sit in the back. Besides being kids, and too short to be able to see anything, both liked Seokmin so being too far away was not something that they wanted. In the end, you caved. You couldn’t say no to two kids who were doing the puppy eyes at the same time. 

As minutes went by and the studio got filled with people you started to get nervous. You ran your sweaty hands on your jeans trying to get them dry, but it was useless. Every person who walked inside made your heart skip a beat because you thought that it could be him. It never was. The scared part of your brain told you that it was a good thing, that maybe he wouldn’t show up at all, but the other part, the one that wanted to see him in person just once, told you to just wait a little longer because he was going to show. 

You waited, for over an hour and there was no sign of him. You knew that in this kind of event it could take them a while to get everything sorted but you were told that it shouldn’t take long once you all went inside. 

“Stop,” Jun said, his hand on your arm “Don’t overthink it" 

He was smiling at you kindly. It was the kind of smile that was supposed to calm you down and reassure you and yet all it did was make you even more nervous. 

“What if we bond?” 

“Then you’ll deal with it later” 

What if I don’t know how to deal with it? 

When people started to scream you looked up and saw the host walking in. He talked for a couple of minutes, made a few jokes trying to be funny and then he introduced Lee Seokmin, a TV personality. The crowd went crazy, there was a girl behind you screaming so loud that you thought you’d go deft. 

Seokmin walked in, his characteristic smile in place, as he waved at the audience. 

Seeing him in person made the world slow down, even your own heart. Instead of going crazy, your heart nearly stopped, as the sight of Seokmin put you at ease. Your hands were no longer shaking, you didn’t feel like trying to hide yourself anymore. In fact, seeing him made your soul scream at you it’s him, what are you waiting for? Your soul was begging you to go to him. After all, it knew him, because despite being apart for years it recognized him immediately. 

And then Seokmin looked at you. 

His eyes were on yours as he stood frozen there. You could feel him everywhere. He was shocked, surprised, caught off guard, hopeful, and just so happy. His happiness was contagious because inside you felt happy too. You wanted to stand up and hug him, stay as close as possible to him. The fear you felt for years was momentarily forgotten in the back of your mind. 

Your legs moved before you could even realize what you were doing. You stood up and walked to him, stopping only a couple of steps away from him. You felt his heartbeat like it was just under your skin. Being so close to him made your body tingle in the best way possible. Your entire being was begging you to just take another step, just one closer to him, just so you could touch him and feel him all around you. 

When Seokmin moved forward, his hand raised ready to touch you - just like you wanted to do - you took a step back. Suddenly the realization of what could happen came crashing down around you. Your dreams, and images of Seokmin lying lifeless on the floor that had been engraved in your mind were unexpectedly in your eyes. You could see it coming, your downfall, and the things you dreaded the most, happening. 

“I…” 

Seokmin wanted to say something, anything, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to. What words could he possibly profess that would make the fear running through your body go away? 

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this" 

Turning around and walking away from him might have been the hardest thing you ever did. 

You tried your best to keep living normally but it was close to impossible. Every second that went by you were reminded of Seokmin, of the broken look on his face when you walked away, of the way he felt like he had somehow done something wrong. And he felt unloved when it was supposed to be just the other way around. Even before the bond, before you had the chance to look at him in the eyes, you already had feelings for him. Perhaps it was because you knew that you were supposed to love him, you knew that once you met him your feelings would be unstoppable, or it was just because he was charming. 

And just how charming he was. 

You didn’t know one single person who disliked him, someone who would flat-out say that there was nothing good to like about him. Everyone loved Seokmin, his easy smile and friendly eyes pulled everyone in. 

“Until when are you going to keep avoiding him?” 

Jun had become the personification of what was happening inside of you. You wanted to meet Seokmin, desperately. You wanted to find out where he was and just go to him, introduce yourself, and just talk to him. Everything seemed so simple inside your mind, and in Jun’s as well, but it was so far from it. 

“You’re just avoiding it, you know that” 

“So, what if I am? I’m sorry if I don’t want to see my soulmate die!” 

You weren’t angry at your friend or even Seokmin, as he would feel sometimes. You were just angry at everyone else, at the world, at destiny, at anyone in the world who decided that it was a good idea to make you see your soulmate die every night. 

“I know that, but wouldn’t it be better if you could spend some time with him? Let’s say that you’ll have six months together, that’s it. No more and no less. Don’t you want to be with him for as long as you possibly can instead of keep hiding in here?” Jun moved his hand showing the lounge of his dance school “Think of all your past lives, about how happy you were because you were with Seokmin. In this life too, shouldn’t you be able to feel that kind of happiness?” 

Jun was the only person who knew that you were Memorous and he was also the only person who would say that there was nothing wrong with it. You aren’t cursed. If you ask me, you are one of the lucky ones. I would anything to have more memories with Seol. He was also the kind of friend who wasn’t scared to say that you were messing up your own life, that you were doing something wrong. Most days he would act like the dad you never had. You were grateful for him, for having someone so eager to make sure that you were happy. 

“Here’s a wild scenario” Jun smiled at Hana, who was running to him, as he stood up “Seokmin doesn’t die" 

His words left you speechless as you watched him move away from you. 

When you got home that day Seokmin’s journals were waiting at your doorstep. 

Reading Seokmin’s words was much like reading your own. Since you started to have dreams, you thought that you were the only one who felt like that, like the only one who didn’t have anyone else to run to. Yes, both of your lives were very different, the place both of you came from was also different. But looking at it or wasn’t all that different. 

His words and the way he described his feelings for you were the things that made you take a deep breath and go meet him. 

I know that you are scared, I can feel it but please reconsider it. I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for a very long time and I would like to believe that you have too. I’ll be in the city for a few more days so let’s meet. If you don’t come to me, I will go to you. We can’t run away from this. 

Seokmin. 

Somehow you found yourself getting out of your tiny apartment and going towards Seokmin. You knew just how much he could feel your nervousness and yet he tried to stay calm so you could feel at ease too. The entire time, since you left the TV station, you could feel him in your mind and it was like he was talking to you, trying to convince you to meet or just to be comfortable with the idea of him. 

At times you could swear that he was talking to you, his voice clear in your mind. It’s okay, you don’t have to worry. It was like Seokmin himself could read your thoughts. Of course, there were moments when he would feel that spark of fear, and anxiety but most of the time he was in complete control of his emotions. He was doing that for you, there was no mistake, so you felt childish for being all over the place and guilty for bombarding him with emotions that you couldn’t fully grasp. 

That was one of the many reasons why you decided to go to him. His words had been the main reason, but you also wanted to put your heart in peace. From the second you walked away from him your heart had been heavy. It was the kind of emotion that was impossible to verbalize, the only word that could possibly come to mind was lost. Your heart was lost. You walked around feeling like there was a huge part of you missing, your eyes looked for something, someone, that was never there. 

It was like that until you got his journals. Although you didn’t feel whole you could feel that a little piece of you was back. Perhaps it truly wasn’t a part of you, instead what could be the missing was a piece of you never found before. 

The missing piece had always been Seokmin. 

You stopped in front of his door, your hand closed into a fist just an inch away. 

The truth was that everything you felt, every tiny thing, could be summed into just one word: fear. You were scared. 

For years you saw Seokmin die in your dreams, he died in a new way every night. You saw, more times than you could count, the life left his eyes as he took his last breath. Sometimes you would just hear about it from someone, just words thrown into a conversation – words that always managed to break your heart. It never mattered how you found out, it always happened suddenly and unexpectedly. 

Whenever you and he were settling into a life together, when you allowed yourself to love each other freely, it happened. You always thought that your love for him, as his for you, worked like a time bomb. And the moment the bond was made was when your time started to run out. 

The only thing you thought about was how if you never made the bond then Seokmin would be able to live a long and happy life. It was okay if once, just once, you didn’t find your soulmate. As long as Seokmin got to live, you were fine with whatever life threw at you. Many people went through life without ever finding their soulmates but that didn’t mean that they weren’t happy. It just meant that they had to find other ways to be happy. 

“Just, please, knock on the door” 

You turned around, startled by the sudden presence behind you, a voice that you had memorized a long time before meeting the person to whom it belonged. Seokmin was there, looking at you like he had just walked out of some kind of sappy movie with his hair a mess and a hoodie that was at least three sizes bigger than him. 

“How long have you been there?” 

He smiled at you then making you feel like your insides were melting. Seeing him was like making the bond all over again. Your hands were sweating, your heartbeat out of control, slow, fast, and slow. The air around you was heavy and the tension between the two of you was almost palpable, like a thin sheet separating you and him. 

“Long enough to know that you’ve been hesitating, for at least, five minutes” 

How was it possible for him to be so calm when you felt like your heart was about to combust? Having him so close to you made your entire body shake. You almost wanted to take a step back before you fell to your knees. It was like your legs were barely there to support you. 

“I want to say so many things but I’m afraid that if I do, you’ll run away again” 

You shook your head at him. This time around you weren’t leaving or running. You had made it this far, there was no way you were backing down. Somehow, seeing Seokmin in front of you made you feel stronger like you could fight the entire universe just because he was right there by your side. He wasn’t doing anything, but he looked at you like you were everything that he had been waiting for and then some more. 

“I came so that we could talk” you tried to smile in reassurance, for him or yourself you weren’t sure “Do you want to do this here or somewhere else…?” 

“I think that it would be best if we had some privacy” 

You took a step aside to let Seokmin open the door to his hotel room. 

You had always been scared of people, not of what they could do to you in the spot but of what they could cause in the long run. From a young age, you learned that you were alone and that the people around you never really wanted you there. For the foster homes you went through most of your life, you were just a way to get easy money; for your first boyfriend you were just a pity bet; for your high school friends you were just the girl they let hang out with them in exchange for assignments; for your parents, you were just someone, something, that they could easily toss aside when they finally got bored. 

All of those things left deep scars on you. Though you did your best to cover them, they were always there right under the surface. You always smiled at people and made sure to tell them that you were perfectly fine even though you weren’t, even though all you wanted was to curl into yourself and let yourself feel all that pain. 

Jun had been the first person to get through to you, the only one who had stayed long enough for you to think that maybe he was around you because he actually liked you and not because he wanted something from you in return. 

It was true that Seokmin was your soulmate, that once the bond is made someone can never really walk away from it. You knew all of those things, like a book that you were constantly reading. Knowing something is completely different than doing it. The insecurities, always in the back of your mind, screamed at you louder than any belief or hope. Your brain always told you that someone like Seokmin, someone who had everything – and anyone – he could possibly want, would never stay for someone like you, bond or no bond. 

“Do you want something to drink? I can get you anything you want” 

Seokmin opened the door for you and pointed at the couch in front of it. As you had expected his room wasn’t just room, it was like a goddamn apartment – hell it was bigger than half of the houses you went through as a teenager. 

“I… it’s fine. I’m fine” 

Seokmin knew that you weren’t fine but chose to stay quiet about it, he knew that it wasn’t a good idea to tell you just how much of you he could understand. It wasn’t only because he could feel every tiny thing coming from you but also because you were like an open book, filled with words begging to be read. 

“I got your journals,” you said “I also read them” 

Your words made Seokmin sigh in relief. He thought that if you saw his journals, and read his feelings, you would be able to understand how desperate he felt, how much his feelings had been all over the place – despite him trying to remain calm. His feelings mirrored yours very much, almost in every way. 

“Because you shared yours with me, I think it’s only fair if I do the same with you” 

He looked up at you, surprise all over his face as you handed him the small box you had been carrying. 

“I’ve dreamed about you, for the past ten years, too. Every night I saw you and fell for you, every version of you” 

The surprise Seokmin felt, the happiness, and the relief that ran through his body the moment he saw you at his door was almost completely gone when he heard what you were saying.  He wanted to think that maybe he heard it wrong but the look in your eyes assured him that he hadn’t heard it wrong. Your words had been loud and clear, ricocheting inside his brain. 

“For how long you have known about me?” 

Your heart was breaking, shattering into tiny pieces when you saw and felt the change in Seokmin. He held the box with your journals like it weighed a thousand pounds, his face was contorted with something that you couldn’t decipher but his feelings were clear, like the sky on a starry night. Seokmin felt betrayed, hurt, and unwanted, all things that weren’t true. 

“Since you started, around the same time, since I was sixteen as well” you whispered. 

Seokmin felt his heart drop all the way down to his toes feeling sick to his stomach. He had always wanted to find you, from the day he understood what his dreams meant he looked for you – everywhere and anywhere in the world. You were the reason why he even started to work in TV, he thought that if he got a job that required him to talk to a lot of people then it would be easier to find you. But the idea, now the fact, that you had always known about him but even then, decided not to look for him, not to take a step away from him, was like a slap to his face. 

“Do you know that I tried to look for you everywhere? I nearly went crazy. Every day since my dreams, the memories of us, started I searched for you. While you…” he scoffed like the world had played yet another sick joke on him “You knew who I was but you never…” 

He couldn’t bring himself to say it; thinking about it – feeling it – was already bad enough. Seokmin didn’t want to voice it, if he did then everything would become that much more real, too real, more heartbreaking than anything else in his life up until that moment. 

The dreams crushed his heart every morning when he woke up. Seokmin felt his heart die a little inside his chest for the life he never got to live with you, for the words he never got to hear from you, for seeing the bright light leave your eyes time and time again. But ultimately those dreams were just that: dreams, memories of a different period in time, of a different life that although felt real, it no longer was. 

“I was afraid, Seokmin…” 

“I know that you were! I felt it, with fiber in my body, I knew that you were scared, terrified that for some reason I wouldn’t love you. I knew all of that like it was my own fear” 

The despair he had in his voice was felt in your body, every tiny cell. You hated that he was feeling like that, that your first ever encounter with him – a proper one – was only worth a fight. That was not how you wanted things to go. You thought that if you ever met him things would run smoothly but the reality of it was far from your expectations. 

“Like you, I am a Memorous” you had to say it, you needed Seokmin to hear your words just once “The first time I saw you, like you are right now, was on TV but it was so fast that I couldn’t be sure. I was on the bus, passing by a TV store. The next day I stayed in front of the same store the entire day, waiting for that brief second of your face for hours. When I finally saw you I cried, right there in the middle of the sidewalk because I just felt so happy to see you, to finally find the boy that I had seen so many times before, the boy I loved so blindly, even though I have never met before. 

“But the dreams… they are alive inside my mind. I don’t forget them like you do. My brain stores them like they are memories of this life, all those feelings were as real as if I lived them this time around. I thought about all the times I saw you die, and I couldn’t live through that again. I couldn’t let that happen to you, not after I saw you. I only knew you from the screen of my tv but my feelings were already so strong. I wanted the bond to happen, you can’t doubt that for a second, but I was scared. I would very much rather live knowing that you were somewhere out there, living a happy and long life than having you live a short one with me” 

Your words were more than enough to make Seokmin stop. Until that moment, his mind was flying all over the place but the second you opened your mouth he couldn’t bring himself to be angry anymore. Those feelings, the fear of seeing your other half – the one you were supposed to be with – die, was one he knew very well. He often wondered what would happen when he finally met you. 

The first time he saw you, he had been over the moon, he felt you and everything else. He felt the pull and your desire to get closer to him. To say that Seokmin was surprised when you ran away was an understatement. He didn’t truly understand everything that was happening inside of him, the unthinkable mix of you and him made him feel dizzy because he couldn’t set you apart. 

He could finally understand the things you did but it didn’t mean that he liked them. 

“I think it’s going to be a very long night” 

Seokmin read your journals in front of you, and it didn’t feel embarrassing. Those journals, your words, had been written for him and for him only. While you wrote down your dreams you thought of him, of how he would read them one day and how much you wanted him to. 

You spent the entire night in his hotel room. You talked for hours and hours and suddenly the subject wasn’t as heavy anymore, both of your fears momentarily forgotten, and you were simply enjoying each other’s company. 

Seokmin was everything that he seemed to be, but he was also that much different. His bubbly personality was still there, fully out in the open for everyone to see, but there was also a shy side to him - one that not many people knew about but it was cute to watch. More often than he would like to admit, Seokmin would trip over his words, insecure about what he could and couldn’t say to you. The ice is still very thin, it’s making me nervous he said at some point in the night. 

You had scooted closer to him or maybe he got closer to you, how it happened didn’t really matter. You found yourself sitting on the couch with your knees pulled to your chest as Seokmin quietly played with your fingers. 

Just having him around you felt like a dream but the moment his skin touched yours? It was like fireworks exploded under your skin, like every single nerve in your body was suddenly awake. You could feel him everywhere, like he was not just the man in front of you, but he was also part of the air, like he could be all around you whilst staying in the exact same spot. He gave you calmness, a sense of peace and security. Things that up until that moment no one had been able to give you, not even yourself. 

“I really want to kiss you” you whispered.  Seokmin’s fingers stilled in yours and something sparkled in his eyes as he looked at you. The moment was suspended in the air as if it wasn’t neither here or there, as if time itself had stopped and all the attention was now on the two of you and the way you were feeling in that very second. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, you didn’t want to. It was the first time, in your entire life, that you craved someone’s touch and presence. With Seokmin you wanted that and so much more, everything that he had to give, you wanted. 

Feeling like that for someone after only knowing them for a couple of hours was impossible, the kind of thing that you would never expect to happen, the kind of thing that you would laugh at because something like that couldn’t exist. But with you and Seokmin, nothing was as it seemed. 

It was true that you had only known him for a little while but just in this life. When you looked at him you saw traces of the many different people that he had been in the past and because of that, it was like you fully knew him. That wasn’t the case, and you knew that, but even so, the feeling of reconnection still existed. 

Seokmin inched forward, his eyes focused on your lips, as he interlocked your fingers and pulled you towards him. There was one second of hesitation, one tiny second that felt like an eternity before his lips finally pressed on yours and then it was pure magic. 

Seokmin had to leave a few days later and you hated the idea of having to see him walk away. It wasn’t final, you knew that, but it hurt all the same. He had stayed in the city for you far longer than he was supposed to, his phone always blowing up with text messages from people concerned about his whereabouts when in reality he had been locked up with you inside your apartment. 

On the contrary to what you previously thought, Seokmin didn’t care about your tiny apartment, about the fact that you had been to more foster homes than what you were willing to admit, or about the fact that you didn’t have a degree. I like you for you, not for the baggage that comes with you. 

You sat at the airport for hours after his flight departed, the emptiness growing inside of you as the seconds ticked away. 

Seokmin felt the same way. He wanted to stay or for you to just go with him, but he didn’t dare to ask. He knew that even though you didn’t think much of your life, you liked it. You loved to be a receptionist at Jun’s school, loved being surrounded by the kids, loved the city you lived in, and you were a little proud of yourself for being your own person and living your own life - even though you would never admit it. He got into the plane with a heavy heart, but he had to figure things out. He had to find a way for the two of you to be together. It was uncertain of what the future held for you. You could be together for just a year before one of you died or your entire life was still ahead of you. The not knowing drove him crazy. 

 Three weeks apart was all he could take before he found himself boarding a plane to the other side of the country and breaking a few contracts while he did so. You called every day, facetimed whenever there was a chance and texts were always a constant but just that wasn’t enough. 

Due to the distance, the constant pull to you only grew stronger and the grasp he had of your feelings, how Seokmin could tell exactly what was going on with you, was slowly disappearing. It wasn’t that you were learning to control what he could and couldn’t see. Once the bond is made the newfound soulmates need to stay close to each other, it’s physically and mentally tiring to be away. He noticed that you sounded more exhausted on the phone, as your eyes nearly closed when you talked on Facetime. 

All those things pulled him to you, yes, but Seokmin also wanted to see you desperately. 

He didn’t tell you that he was coming to see you, he wanted to make it a surprise. The entire flight he felt just how happy you were, probably because you were at the dance school with the kids, but he also noticed your worry, because he hadn’t answered his phone in a few hours, as you tried to push it as far back in your mind as possible. 

The long see-through glass walls of the school allowed Seokmin to see you inside. He heard your laugh before he saw you, the sound had been imprinted in his mind like the type of song that just gets stuck. And then he saw your profile looking at the little boy in front of you lovingly. When you smiled, he thought that his heart would explode inside his chest. 

Seeing you, even from far away, was like going home after a long time. The feeling of calmness, the feeling of finally being able to breathe properly. Just looking at you made him lighter in a way that he couldn’t exactly put into words. 

The kids were the first ones to see Seokmin. The little boy you talked to gasped, and his eyes went wide. All the other kids had the same reaction, some of them pointed at him while others just went back to what they were doing before. 

You stood frozen in place and watched Seokmin walk from where he was to the door. You had to make sure that he was really there, that it wasn’t something that you were imagining. If it wasn’t for the cute selfies he sent you stored in your phone, you would be sure that meeting Seokmin and everything else that happened after had been nothing but a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time you wished for a life that could never have. 

You got up and took a step away from the kids before walking as fast as you could - nearly running - towards him. He met you halfway, his arms reached for you before you collapsed into him. 

You sighed in contentment and relief when you felt his skin against yours, when his warmth enveloped you. Everything else was forgotten and it no longer mattered. 

“You’re really here,” you said against his neck. 

His chuckle ran through your entire body and he tightened his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to him. 

“Half a country away is too much" he murmured. 

You stayed in place for minutes, long enough for one of the kids to get bored and call out your name a couple of times. One of them ran inside and got Jun, because the little boy thought that Seokmin might be holding you for too long. 

“This reunion is great and all but it’s weird for the kids” 

At the sound of your friend’s voice, you let go of Seokmin but you didn’t go too far. Three weeks had been long enough, you would take whatever few moments with him that you could get before he had to leave again. So you stayed by Seokmin’s side, your fingers interlocked with his. 

“Seokmin, this is Jun” 

“I was the one who gave him your address, how else do you think he would send you his journals?” 

Seokmin looked at you, with surprise in his face. He hadn’t expected you to tell someone about it, about his journals, or about anything at all. From the moment he saw you, and even from the journals you wrote, he knew that you were the kind of person who didn’t tell those around her much about her life so it was a surprise that you had talked about it with someone. 

“It’s good to see that things worked out for you,” Jun said, he looked at the watch on his wrist before looking back at you again “Go on, take the rest of the day off” 

You shook at head, pointing at the kids behind him - who were already making a fuss all over the place. 

“I still have a few more hours to go and you need help with the kids” 

Jun just rolled his eyes when he took a few steps closer to you and Seokmin, pretty much pushing out of the door. 

“I’ll let you know that there was a time when I managed this place just fine without you” 

 For the rest of the day, you walked around town with Seokmin. He held your hand the entire time, letting it go just to put his arm around your shoulder, either way, he always had his hands on you. You didn’t mind it, in fact, you liked it a lot. The idea of always being close to him made your heart flutter in impossible ways, made you imagine what life would be like when you finally got to be with him for more than a few hours at a time, it made you wish for a future when you would be able to see him every day and talk to him and just be around him. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Seokmin said when you reached your neighborhood. 

“That could be dangerous” 

During the time you and Seokmin talked on the phone, he told a lot about his childhood and there was one thing that was clear to you: he was an unpredictable kid. His ideas were always crazy and so unnatural for a child. When you were in foster care you thought that the other kids were crazy, but they were just reckless, Seokmin was wild. 

“I should have never told you those stories,” he said with a sigh, a tiny smile on his face “I’ve got this job offer, here in the city. It’s not like what I do now but I think that it could be fun and I’ll try to make it work as much as possible. If I do take it, we’ll be closer to each other” 

You were shaking your head before he was done speaking. Seokmin changing jobs, and doing something else that was not what he wanted initially was a huge no. 

“You’re not moving here” 

He sighed again and took your hand in his. 

“I know you’re worried about my job, but I only started to do it because I thought that it was the easiest way to find you. I can do something else, anything else, if it means that I can have you” 

You turned to look at him, your hand squeezing his. His words assured you, more than anything in the world. Hearing those words was the only thing you needed. 

“Remember how I told you that Jun’s soulmate mom is a social worker? She told me that there is this University, not the most prestigious one but a university nonetheless, that is more likely to give out scholarships. A couple of months ago I took the test to get in and I got the results a week ago” 

Seokmin nodded at you, not really understanding what you meant. Truth be told, he was a little hurt. The second he mentioned it you were already denying it, like the mere idea of having him close to was repulsive. He knew that couldn’t be the case, knew that those things never reached your heart but even so, the feeling of getting rejected was there. 

“I got in. I have to move there in the next few weeks or so, to settle in and find my way around town” 

“Where… where is that?” 

You laughed and kissed him quickly. He looked way too cute with the confused look on his face. 

“I didn’t ask for your address just to have it, Seokmin. I want to be close to you so I was looking for a place near yours but also close enough to the university” 

Before you even done speaking Seokmin already had his arms around while he placed quick kisses all over your face, making you laugh. 

Moving away was harder than expected. There weren’t many things that tied you to that place, but the few things that did make it heartbreaking. 

Just as you predicted, telling Jun was easy. Your friend, like always, had been supportive saying that he had your back in all the choices you’ve made and the choices that you would come to make. 

His kids were a completely different story. When you told Hana about it, she started to cry, tears running down her little face and sobs escaping her lips. You knew that it was going to be hard to talk to her, but you didn’t think that it was going to be like that. Hanbin was easier but you knew that he was also feeling it. 

“Will you call us every day?” 

“I’ll call you every Sunday morning,” you said pinching her cheeks “We all know how much your dad loves Sunday mornings” 

Jun groaned but he still had a smile on his face. 

“Why do you hate me?” 

It broke your heart to leave all three of them, but it was something that you had to do, not only because you wanted to be close to Seokmin but because of yourself. The change was something that you needed to do in order to move your life forward. 

Moving day wasn’t as terrible as you expected. Seokmin had helped you move all your stuff, boxing everything to perfection. You didn’t have much you wanted to take with you but even so, everything you owned had been labeled and wrapped. 

Somehow Seokmin had managed to convince you to just move in with him. You tried to deny him at first. It didn’t make any sense; you had just started something with him and suddenly you were putting your toothbrushes together. That was way too fast. “We don’t know how much time we have together so why waste it by being apart?”  You tried reasoning with him “What if I can’t stand your habits and you hate mine?” To what he just said, “I’ll love all of your nasty habits and I’ll be the perfect prince, so you’ll have nothing to complain about”. 

It all ended with a heated make-out session on your couch. 

Seokmin was feeling edgy. He was supposed to be home hours ago, he knew that you were worried but restraining yourself from calling him. He loved his job, he really did, and it was amazing that he got to keep it and be with you at the same time, but he hated days like those. He hated the late-night shootings when he had to be away - especially when he could feel how worried you were - and he didn’t even like to think about when he had to do something out of town. 

The drive back home felt endless. He broke God knows how many speed limits, and crossed a few red lights. He didn’t know why he was feeling like that, he knew that there wasn’t anything wrong going on at home. You would have called him in case something happened, he would have felt something change. 

But at times he couldn’t help but feel anxious. 

It had been four years. Four years since you found each other, since you started your life together, probably the four happiest years of his. But whenever he wasn’t expecting it, whenever Seokmin started to feel comfortable again with his life and you around him, his dreams would come back to haunt him. Instead of seeing you, in the past, he saw you as you were in this life. He saw the woman he loved, more than any of his dreams could have let him know, die in front of him, in his arms. It was always like that, you had a smile on your face, a tear ran down your cheek and you said that loved him. 

On nights like that, he would search for you. His arms moved directly to you and pulled you to him as quiet sobs escaped his lips. You always cried with him on nights like that. You didn’t have those sorts of dreams, but his despair and fear ran through your body as if they were your own. 

That night was just like that. The whole day he had a sickening feeling in his stomach. Like the world was telling him that something was bound to happen. The one thing that had somehow calmed him was how at ease you were during most of the way. 

Seokmin walked inside a house in darkness, the light in the hallway the only thing that could possibly tell him that there was someone home. You always did that for him when he had one of his late nights. 

You were sleeping in the bedroom, so Seokmin tried his best not to make a sound. But he knew that all his efforts were useless when he walked out of the bathroom to find the bedside lamp on and you looking at him. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you” 

You sat up and smiled at him, shaking your head. It was a good thing that he had woken you up. Your sleep wasn’t peaceful, no nightmares or dreams but although you were asleep you still had that weird feeling of being awake while sleeping. 

“It’s fine, I actually have to talk to you about something” 

Seokmin wouldn’t like what you had to say to him, in fact, you were pretty sure that he would probably hate it. 

“I talked to your sister today” the words left your lips in a quiet whisper. 

Seokmin stood still, his eyes focused on you, but his mind was somewhere entirely. He finally understood why you had felt so anxious and nervous during lunchtime and why he was feeling on edge the entire day. 

“We’re not doing this” he shook his head. 

“Seokmin it’s been 12 years, you’re going to have to talk to them at some point” 

You reached for his hand at the same that Seokmin scoffed at you. 

“You haven’t talked to your parents in 22 years and I don’t push toward them” 

Seokmin regretted his words the second he said them. He watched as you tried your best to control your emotions and not let him feel just how hurt you truly felt about his words. You pulled back the hand you reached to Seokmin and tucked it under the blankets. 

“I did try to look for them, Seokmin. I found them. It went the same way as it did when I was eight years old. They didn’t want me” 

You never told anyone about that, it wasn’t the kind of thing that you liked to talk about. To be honest you didn’t even like to think about it. 

A week before you moved in with Seokmin you searched for your parents. With Jun’s help, you managed to find them, quite easily. They still lived in the city, in the same house you lived in for the first eight years of your life. All it really took to get a hold of them was to find the documents they filled when they left you in the foster house. Your meeting with them didn’t last long, less than five minutes and they didn’t even invite you in. All the conversation was done at their doorstep. “We can’t do anything for you, we’re not parent material,” they said to which you answered, “I’m no longer a kid who needs care and protection”. 

For them to suddenly find their inner parent wasn’t something that you wanted or expected but you thought that they could, at least, be part of your life but even that they refused. They only showed some kind of interest when you mentioned Seokmin and just by looking at them, you could tell that their interest was more on what Seokmin brought with him than for you. 

After that you never mentioned them again, never allowed Jun to talk about it again, not even thinking about them was allowed. 

“Just because people bond doesn’t mean they become good people, Seokmin. It just means that there’s someone out there who won’t judge your choices” 

“Babe…” 

Seokmin crawled on the bed towards you, his arms going around you and tangled his legs with yours. 

You stayed quiet for a while, unmoving. That was your favorite place in the world, his arms. Even if you had just some kind of argument with him, even if you were hurt by what the other person said, you never turned your back on each other. 

“I’m afraid if I let them in again the same thing will happen. I can’t go through that again” 

You turned in his arms, facing him. 

“They were probably just afraid Seokmin, the things people say about Memorous aren’t nice. Maybe they were just afraid to lose their son. Your sister did sound really sorry on the phone” you ran your hand on his cheek “You’re thirty years old, the feelings you had at eighteen are not the same and you certainly are not the same person. Maybe we could try talking to them, and if it doesn't work, it doesn’t” 

“Thank you for reminding me that I’m old” 

You giggled against his chest, which made Seokmin kiss the top of your head. 

“You’ll only be old when our kids kids go to college” 

Something in Seokmin’s eyes changed, all the anger and laughter from just a second before suddenly disappeared. He rolled on the bed, so he was on top of you. 

“Are we talking babies now?” 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed your way up from his collarbone to his lips. 

“You’ve been lacking in that department lately, husband” 

He pulled your hands away from his neck and presses it against the mattress. 

“I’ll be sure to make it up to you, wife” 

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[win-writes]

𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴; 𝘁𝗲𝗰𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

nsfw under the border (minors dni!)

༶ jouno edition

.˚ₓ the thought of having a sugar baby never once crossed tecchou's mind until one of his colleagues (probably tachihara) mentioned the concept during a random conversation they had

.˚ₓ and combined with his strong ideal of justice, believing that he's responsible for recognizing the good that goes unrewarded, what better way to do it than by spoiling a person he's interested in with his well-earned money?

.˚ₓ that being said, when you settle your agreement, his demands are pretty mild at first

.˚ₓ he's going to pay your bills and your rent every month, and all he's going to ask in return is a simple coffee date

.˚ₓ but after talking more about it with him, you reassure him that it's okay for him to ask for more since he's already spending so much money on you

.˚ₓ and so once tecchou takes in the whole concept for good, he'll start feeling more comfortable requesting other things from you

.˚ₓ for example, he'll ask you to accompany him to his next formal outing with the rest of his squad, and of course, he'll cover all the expenses for your outfit

.˚ₓ if he notices that you're not only enjoying yourself but also getting along with his colleagues really well, he'll make sure to bring you with him on every similar occasion

.˚ₓ a couple of months afterward, he'll find himself getting you gifts, like some pretty jewelry that caught his eye the last time you went on a shopping spree together

.˚ₓ while tecchou was never really a guy for big vacations, now he's quick to ask you to spend his next break from work at your dream destination

.˚ₓ the more time he spends with you, the more he wants to get closer to you, so after just 4 months of your agreement, he'll ask you to come over to his place

.˚ₓ the first time you visit him, he orders food from your favorite place (he wouldn't force you to try his special cooking skills) and you just chill while watching a movie

.˚ₓ and by the time you leave, he might steal a kiss goodbye from you

.˚ₓ which only gives him the green light to ask for more

.˚ₓ the first time tecchou asked for something more intimate from you was the day he sent you a pretty box to your house with your favorite flower and a letter

.˚ₓ the box contained three brand new sets of lingerie, and the letter was a note from him saying 'try them on, please, and maybe send me a pic or two of you in your favorite one ♡'

.˚ₓ and who are you to reject such a sweet request from your sugar daddy?

.˚ₓ really soon he has a whole album in his gallery with your selfies in the lingerie he buys for you

.˚ₓ safe to say things get heated the next time you visit his house

.˚ₓ you sit and watch a movie again, but not even 30 minutes into it, and tecchou already has two fingers buried inside your dripping hole

.˚ₓ and just like that, your movie sessions take an interesting turn from now on

.˚ₓ what tecchou didn't expect was for you to directly ask him to cut to the chase a week later, skipping the whole movie part

.˚ₓ and with no hesitation, he carries you in bridal style to his bedroom only to fulfill your request

"Mmm, you taste so sweet baby" tecchou mumbles under you against your pussy before diving his tongue into your wet core again, feeling your pussy clench around it in response. your eyes roll back to your skull as your back arcs forward. your hands grip on the headboard of the bed, desperately trying to find your balance while tecchou devours you for what feels like hours.

countless whines escape your lips as you ride his face, chasing after your climax. his tongue laps on your folds at an animalistic pace, eating you out like a man starved. you look down at him, only to meet his eyes full of lust staring back at you "be good for me and cum on my face baby, yeah?"

tecchou gives your clit one hard suck and has you seeing stars as you finally submit your whole body to the pleasure he's granting you, feeling your climax washing over your whole body. he collects all of your juices on his tongue, before pushing your hips back to make you sit on his chest. he gently kisses your inner thighs, feeling them twitching "good job baby, such a good girl for me"

Special tag; @iovetecchou ♡

[theladyfirelord]

Sense of Safety

Scenario: Bree just wants to feel safe enough to close her eyes and rest, so she goes to Selwyn.

Bree's POV:

I can't sleep. Every. Single. Night. I cannot sleep.

Every time I try to close my eyes and get just a small amount of rest, I picture something terrible happening to either me or my loved ones..and there's nothing that I can do about it. Sometimes it's someone trying to kill me (which is pretty on par for my life currently). Other times it's someone targeting my dad, Alice, William....and Sel.

I wake up in a terror, and next thing you know, I'm too scared to fall asleep again. It's the same cycle.

~~~

However, tonight I've decided to try something different. Something that I may end up backing out of last minute like the scaredy cat that I am.

I'm in front of Sel's bedroom door, pacing. Mainly because I'm debating if I even want to knock or not.

Honestly, I'm not too sure why my feet traveled here anyway...

Okay, that's a complete lie. I know exactly why I'm here. Because Sel makes me feel safe and that's what I need most right about now.

He's protected me from danger countless amounts of time...maybe he can save me from my own mind?

I know it's stupid, and he'll probably think it's stupid too, so I might as well-

Just then, I was interrupted by the door opening, and Selwyn appearing.

~~~

"Bree? Are you okay?" Sel asks with mostly concern, laced with a hint of amusement.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was just going to the bathroom. Guess this was the wrong door." I hurriedly say, turning towards the direction of my bedroom, "My bad, I'll just be going no-"

Selwyn reaches out and gently grabs my wrist. "I've listened to you pace back and forth outside my door for the past few minutes," he continues, "Briana, what's the matter?"

Should I tell him? I don't really think I should...

"Bree, please..."

Okay fine. "I've been having trouble sleeping and I was wondering if..."

"If what, mystery girl?"

How do I phrase this? Is bluntness or caution the way to go?

"Can I come inside? With you?" I end up blurting out. When I get no response immediately, I begin to start back tracking, "I mean, I can sleep on the floor... I just feel a bit safer with you around. That's all. If you're uncomfortable, I can go back to my room. That's fin-"

This time, I'm cut off by Sel's hand sliding from my wrist to my hand. He interlocks his fingers with mine, walks me into his room, and shuts the door behind us with his unoccupied hand.

Together, we make it to his bed, and he removes his hand from mine to pull back his covers.

"You can always come to me, Briana. You never have to have an excuse." He assures me, his voice completely serious. "Now, lay down."

I follow his orders, watching as he pulls the covers over me and fluffs my pillow. Then, unexpectedly, he gets into the bed on the side opposite of me.

I turn on my side, facing away from him, and close my eyes.

Suddenly, I feel Sel's arm slide around my stomach, pulling me back towards his chest.

"Goodnight, love." He murmurs.

I went to sleep flustered, but I had no nightmares. That was a best night's sleep that I've had in weeks.

[runariya]

Drive to Survive (JJK POV) • Chapter 1

pairing: F1driver!Jungkook x female race engineer!reader genre: colleagues2L, formula1!AU, racing!AU, drama, kind of fantasy/cyborg!AU fic rating: rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: Jungkook is hopeless...and a simp...and stupid, Trish is a B, foul language, lmk if there's something missing word count: ~ 2.690

a/n: surprise, surprise! Super excited to share the first Chapter in JK's POV - it's here! YEY! I had a blast writing it and can't wait for you to read it. Get ready for more chapters from his POV because he's just too precious not to be in the spotlight!👀

series masterlist

I sit in the meeting room, waiting for the new race engineer to arrive so we can finally start. The air feels thick with anticipation, and I’m hyper-aware of George, who’s sitting beside me. He’s talking my ear off about some nonsense I can’t even begin to focus on. Something about his playstation racing session with Max Verstappen and his latest lap times, maybe, but his words blend into a dull buzz in the back of my mind.  

I lean back in my chair, trying to shake off the remnants of last night. I made the mistake of going to that party of this douchebag I don’t even know the name of, and now I’m paying for it with a migraine that throbs at my temples. 

Trish had clung to me all night, her flirtatious shrill laughs echoing in my head even now, hours later. Her touch was persistent, unwelcome. I can still see her manicured nails brushing my arm, lingering too long, ignoring every polite boundary I’ve set. She’s just my physiotherapist, and I’ve tried so many times to make it clear that all I want from her is friendship. Professionalism, at the very least. But she doesn’t seem to understand, or worse, doesn’t care.  

I exhale deeply and drag my focus back to the present. Around me, George is still talking, Joongki is tapping on his phone, James is jotting something down in his notebook, and Toto is checking his watch, probably planing every minute after the meeting is over. 

I can’t sit still, and my knee bounces under the table with restless energy. I think back to Hans, my last race engineer. He stepped down to spend more time with his family, and I admired that decision. One day, I want that for myself too—a family, children. I’d probably make the same decision as Hans if I were in his shoes. Probably a lot sooner than he did. I know his wife begged him for months to spent more time with them. 

Suddenly, there’s movement outside the door, and I sit up straighter, watching as you walk along the corridor. 

My heart stops. 

It can’t be. 

My request for you to replace Hans was a joke, a whimsical suggestion thrown at Toto in passing. Never did I imagine they’d actually choose you, let alone allow a female race engineer into the notoriously traditional world of Formula 1.  

Yet here you are.  

No. No. No, no, no, no.

Your eyes meet mine, and disbelief washes over me, leaving me momentarily stunned. How could this be happening? Please, no.

You’re beautiful, as always, your dress flowing effortlessly around your long legs, and the sunlight streaming through the window, casts a halo around you. 

Ethereal. That’s what you are.  

You’ve always been my dream girl, now woman, ever since I first saw you on track, your passion for racing as fierce as your smile is bright. I’ve spent countless days, no years, drooling over you from a distance, like some lovesick puppy, admiring you in secret. Every attempt of getting closer to you smashed with ease from you. As if you couldn’t care less about me. But now, reality crashes in—I’ll have to work with you, be around you, keep everything professional.  

Panic grips me, a cold sweat prickling at my skin. How am I supposed to maintain an emotional distance? The answer is simple yet infuriating—I can’t. There’s no way. 

My stomach twists with the realisation, and the panic quickly turns into anger. Anger at myself for feeling this way, anger at you for being so...perfect. How dare you show up and upend my world like this?  

I struggle to keep my expression neutral, even as a storm brews inside me. I latch onto the anger, let it fuel my resolve. I have to keep my distance from you, keep everything strictly professional.  

After a soft knock on the door, you stride into the room with a confidence that captivates everyone. “Good morning.” Your angelic, soft, beautiful voice swirls around the room like a spring breeze in a field full of flowers. It momentarily suffocates the anger within me and caries me away in a dream where’s only you.

George’s elbow hitting my shoulder shatters everything within seconds, only now realising everyone except from me got up to pay the deserved respect for you. “Don’t be a dick.” George scolds me silently before I school my features back to annoyance and pure indifference. 

“Good morning,___. Thank you for being here.” Toto says, breaking the silence, his tone cordial and welcoming. “Everyone, this is our new race engineer.”  

The room turns to you, offering polite nods and greetings. I force myself to join in, though my voice feels detached, a million miles away.  

“Hi, I’m Jungkook.” I manage, the words tasting strange, as if uttering them is an admission of something deeper.  

You smile, and it’s like a punch to my gut. It’s disarming, and I feel my defences crumble a little, despite myself.  

The meeting starts, discussions swirling around the expectations from you, upcoming races, the new car setups. I try to focus, thinking I’m nodding in the right places, but my mind keeps drifting back to you. I watch you interact with the others, handling each question with poise and insight. You’re so competent, so sure of yourself, and it’s maddening. Truly devastating. 

I sneak glances at you when I think you’re not looking, totally not staring at you while the time, studying the way you tilt your head when you listen intently, the slight furrow in your brow when you consider a tricky question. Every little detail pulls me in deeper, against my better judgment.  

Focus, I scold myself. Get a grip. I’m here to win races, not get caught up in some hopeless infatuation.  

As the meeting progresses, I try to find something, anything, to criticise about you. A flaw, a mistake, a reason to justify the distance I need to keep. But you handle everything flawlessly, and it only fuels my frustration.  

George leans over, whispering something about how impressed he is with you, how refreshing it is to have someone like you on the team. I grunt in agreement, unwilling to give voice to the swirling mix of admiration and annoyance I feel.  

And god, as my name falls over your perfect lips, I’m done. I’m dead. Finito. I’ve died, resurrected and died again. 

“Not yet, but I’ve prepared a setup proposal based on our simulation and historical data. I plan to discuss it with Jungkook later today, if he’s free.” 

Your voice is like a drug to me, intoxicating and addictive, leaving me in a daze where coherent thoughts slip through my fingers like sand. The fact that we’re going to spend time alone to discuss the data sends my heartbeat pounding in my ears, drowning out everything else. My eye twitches with the effort to maintain my composure. I force myself to nod once, desperately hoping it looks natural, but deep down, I know I’ve failed miserably to hide the effect you have on me. It’s the worst. 

A little while later, you meet my gaze directly, and I’m taken aback by the sincerity and fire in your eyes. “I believe in open communication and transparency," you say, your voice steady and sure. "I aim to build a strong working relationship with you based on mutual trust and respect. I’ll be proactive in seeking your feedback and ensuring you feel fully supported.”  

Your words strike a nerve, and I feel my irritation growing, though I can’t quite put my finger on why. Maybe it’s because your earnestness is disarming, making it hard to maintain the annoyance I’m clinging to. Or perhaps you highlighted the working relationship when I’ve longed for you since ever. 

There’s a short silence that stretches out awkwardly in the room, and I’m aware of George discreetly kicking me under the table when he hits a nerve with a sharp pain. I cough, masking the wince from the kick, and force a smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes in the slightest. “I appreciate that approach. Communication is key during the race weekend, especially with strategy adjustments and car performance updates.”  

My response feels stiff, not quite reflecting the turmoil inside me. I’m annoyed, sure, but there’s also something else—a pull toward you that I just can’t mask, no matter how hard I try. Your confidence and professionalism are driving me nuts, and yet they’re exactly what draws me to you.  

Finally, the meeting wraps up, and everyone starts to disperse, heading off to their respective tasks. 

Everyone, except of George, who has the audacity to wrap his slimy, bony arms around you. “Oh, please, call me George.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see you smile at him, and I roll my eyes, throwing my head back in annoyance. Great, just what I need—a charming, smiling George.

“Oh wow, you’re taller than I thought,” you say, pulling away from George. I can’t help myself and make a fake gagging sound. He’s not that tall, jeez. Okay, maybe he is, but still.

George laughs and I think I’m going to kill him this instant. “And you’re so tiny.” How dare he ruffles your hair. “Anyway, I’ll leave you both to it. See you tomorrow.” Why the fuck is he winking at you?! But when he finally heads out, I let out a relieved breath. But then his head pops back in, and he points at me. “You, behave.” With that, he’s gone and with him my resolve to not kill him the next time I see him.

Silence stretches between us as we lock eyes, and neither of us dares to look away. Is this a game? Am I supposed to do something? I didn’t even realize it was a challenge until you blinked, and I couldn't help but burst out, “Ha! You lost.” 

You blink again, slower this time, confusion all over your face. Oh no. I cringe internally. You idiot. It’s absurd and dumb, I know, but there’s something strangely satisfying about winning that ridiculous staring contest.

“Okay, now that that’s settled, let’s get down to business, shall we?” you say, your voice steady as you dive into the details. “So, the Hockenheimring was dropped from the calendar for the last few years, so it’ll be not only new to me but also to…”

“Why are you so obsessed with me?” The words spill out before I can stop them. Fucking hell.

You slowly turn your gaze from your tablet to me, blinking as if to compose yourself, and I think I might cry. It’s not only others who suffer from my stupidity. No, I’m right there with them.

“We should obviously review the track,” you continue, unruffled. “I’m sure you’re aware of its tight hairpins and long straights. Also, I’d like to know your preferred tires so the technical sectors don’t…”

I scoff, cutting you off. Just because I’m clearly a moron doesn’t mean you can dodge my question. My arms cross as I give you a challenging look. “It all makes sense now. You’ve been obsessed with me since the first time you saw me. Doing everything in your power to work with me. Even graduating ridiculously young and declining the offer from Haas.”

Your irritation is oozing from you now, and you fire back without hesitation, “I think it’s funny you’ve kept tabs on me for all those years.”

Fuck. How do you know? “No, I haven’t.” I lie, trying to bullshit you. “It’s common knowledge. You’ve always wanted a piece of me. It’s flattering, really.”

“I can assure you, my interest has always been in the job, not in you. And it’s flattering to know that my vitae seems to be common knowledge to you.”

Shut up, Jungkook. Don’t make it worse. But of course, I can’t stop now. “Sure, sure. You don’t have to play coy. It’s perfectly natural to be drawn to someone as experienced as I am. But let’s keep things professional, alright?” Yep, I hate myself, and now you probably do, too.

“Fine by me.” You smile, and I can’t understand why. I clearly tried to gaslight you here. “So, yes. The tires you’d prefer to—”

„It’s,“ I interrupt again, unable to help myself, and you slump defeatedly into your seat, looking at the ceiling. It’s kind of cute, “just that your enthusiasm to work with me comes off as a bit… personal. But don’t worry, I can handle it.” No, I obviously cannot.

You’ve clearly had enough of my antics, your tone flat as you counter, “If anyone’s having trouble handling things, it seems to be you. Your comments suggest you’re projecting your own feelings onto me.”

“Projecting? That’s a bit of a reach. I’m just stating what I’ve observed.” I try to act surprised, an exaggerated hand on my chest, but inside, I’m crying. Crying over being the dumbest man alive, who’s going to be hated by the only woman I ever wanted.

“What you’ve observed is likely coloured by your own assumptions. I’m here to work. If you feel uncomfortable with my presence, perhaps it’s your own obsession that’s the issue.”

My ears heat up, and I feel a flush creeping up my neck. “My obsession? That’s absurd. I’m perfectly professional.”

And it’s the nail in my coffin when you push further. “Yet you seem fixated on making this about something other than work. It’s almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself of something.” A twitch of amusement plays on your lips, your perfect kissable lips.

“I… No, that’s not it at all. I’m just pointing out what I’ve noticed.” I feel the embarrassing red tint spread from my ears to my cheeks.

“What you’ve noticed is a fabrication of your own making. Let’s stay focused on the race. If you can’t handle working with me professionally, that says more about you than it does about me.”

“I’m completely professional! It’s just… Look, let’s just get this done.” I’m flustered, trying to salvage what’s left of my dignity. I’ve royally messed up. And I know there’s no coming back from this. I’ve lost you for good.

“Exactly. Let’s focus on the tires for now and leave personal assumptions out of it, hm?” Your smile is practiced, and it frustrates me that I’ve let this conversation get so far out of hand.

The tension between us isn’t good, and I’m acutely aware of how much I’ve let my emotions cloud the discussion. But as you start talking about the race, I know there’s nothing left to do but focus.

“The Hockenheimring has a mix of high-speed straights and tight hairpins, so we'll need a tire that offers a balance between grip and durability. What’s your preference?” you ask, your voice clear and professional.

Finally, I get my head back in the game, my mind becoming more focused. As we delve into the technical details, I try to settle with the thought that if there’s no future for us as a couple, then a future as colleagues needs to suffice. Somehow.

“Alright, I think we’re set for now,” you say after we’re done discussing, shutting off your tablet. Your smile is genuine, and I can’t help but falter a bit as I pack up, noticing how your demeanour has shifted. Shifted like the shards of my heart on the floor while I stand up as well. “I’ll finalise these settings, and we’ll review them again on Friday.”

“Thanks for the detailed rundown. I appreciate it.” I appreciate you. Always.

You offer me a genuine smile, and I hope it’s never going to vanish when looking at me. “No problem. Let’s make sure we’re both on the same page from here on out.”

I nod, even though I know we’re never going to be at the same page when it comes to us. With a final, respectful glance, I leave the room followed by a long silent exhale, trying to push the defeat as far away as possible.

series masterlist • JK 2

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