#I wish to click like more than once

[gorogues]

This is a beautiful piece, and such a great job with the fabrics of his clothes and the confetti/clouds around him!

Happy birthday for James Jesse!!!!!!!

[street-corner-felines]

Zero Day (2002)

[gorogues]

It looks amazing, well done! He's both cute and jaunty here, and your work with colour is superb!

Happy birthday to James 🎉

(Yes, I did the drawing on the evening of March 22nd, because I procrastinated all week (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) )

[philosians]

ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴄᴇ

a three week paid-vacation provided by your captain gave rise to the opportunity to finally show you the gift sylus had gotten you. and no, it isn’t the yacht you’re on—but he wouldn’t be opposed to giving you that either.

[ !! ] — mdni | established relationship, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, mating press, unprotected sex, sylus is soft in the bedroom okay now hush ;; alcohol mention (sylus drinks whiskey), fluff. oh did I mention soft! sylus?? uhhh maybe more tags than this idk there’s a lot going on lmao. unedited af I know that’s a warning. if y’all see cut sentences just know it’s a brain glitch >.< lol

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! phew i got this out before it ended hehe just in the nick of time. I do wanna forewarn everyone I don’t actively write smut so I deeply apologize for any sort of repetitiveness or just it being inaccurate and rushed overall, my apologies. but please enjoy reading! bc i wanna curl up and die and delete this after writing it actually lmao I’ll probably never write anything like this again haha

word count: roughly 4.8k

The starry expanse of sky moves quickly outside of the window of the car, nothing but a blur of cosmic colors. Where you’re going you’re not quite sure, with all the secrecy from Sylus and the twins. It’s something Sylus has clearly planned for awhile, from the way he wanted you to dress tonight, but you’re still unable to put your finger on it.

At the very least, you’re glad that Kieran is the one that’s driving instead of Luke.

“Are you two going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“Afraid not, Miss,” Kieran replies. “That’d be against orders from Boss.”

“Are we at least almost there yet?” you ask.

“We have about ten more minutes,” Luke chirps. “Then you’ll finally get to see Boss, don’t worry.”

You’re stunned into a mild fluster and look at your hands in your lap. You heard the twins snicker and you can’t help but shake your head incredulously. Oh well. You’re almost to your destination anyway.

After the last two months of an increase in Wanderer appearances, you could most certainly use a break. It’s been nothing short of hectic, battles here and evacuations there and the occasional dumbass that doesn’t want to listen to the warnings given out that an area is too dangerous to go into.

You softly sigh. You really shouldn’t be thinking about work.

You tug the large coat on your shoulders over you further, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth and the smell of the man it belonged to.

Whatever in the world Sylus had planned must be big, even so that he couldn’t be bothered to tell even the twins exactly what he had in store. All the three of you knew was that he had a surprise, and the two brothers were more than happy to have the opportunity to have the base to themselves.

You just wish you knew where you were going.

“Is this it?”

“I think so. Ah, there’s Boss.”

Oh, already?

True to word, you open your eyes and see a familiar patch of silver against the darkness of the world. And you also happen to see a very, very large yacht not far from him.

A marina? You blink incredulously. A private fucking marina. Good lord, how much money does this man really have?

Upon stopping, you watch as Sylus turns his head slightly to the car. Luke quickly jumps from the passenger side and opens the door for you, ushering his hand outward dramatically and says, “After you, Miss.”

The heel of your shoe clicks against pavement as you step out, holding Luke’s hand for stability until you find your balance.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Not a problem! Enjoy the honey— Uh, vacation!”

Luke jumps back into the car, more than likely to save himself from your questioning eyes. You can’t help but shake your head and make your way toward Sylus and the man in uniform, more than likely the captain of the yacht.

“Ah, Mrs. Sylus,” greets the captain with a tilt of his hat. His eyes blink as he does a once-over on you and then laughs. “I was wondering what kind of woman would tie such a man down, and now I understand. Please, come aboard.”

Your brows raise at Sylus as the captain pivots and boards the yacht. “Care to explain that?”

Sylus, in all his audacity, simply shrugs and smiles. “Nothing to explain, sweetie. He came up with that himself after I told him my lady would be joining me.”

You scoff in disbelief, but can’t help the small smile that falls to your lips. You take Sylus’s arm, wrapped your hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads you onto the ship.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, gazing around as he takes you to the deck. And you could only imagine what it would be like when you went out to sea.

“I figured you would like it,” he murmurs. “Glad to see my instincts weren’t wrong.”

You don’t miss the way his red eyes look to you, knowing he’s waiting for your words of affirmation. You laugh behind your hand, because yeah, he’s right.

You hum, taking his hand in your own. “Thank you for considering me.”

You also don’t miss the way his large fingers eagerly twine with your own, nor the way his eyes soften and blend with devotion and affection.

“Always.”

Thirty minutes pass before the ship takes off into the open sea. You barely feel it until Sylus has you stand to take you back outside from the dining area.

“So, where are we going?” you ask, gazing up at him.

Sylus’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”

You grumble, humoring the man. “Of course it is.”

Sylus’s coat never leaves your shoulders the couple hours you’re both out on the deck. He seems to enjoy that, too; you wearing his clothes sparks something behind his eyes that you’re all too familiar with. The thought itself has your cheeks warming and thighs pressing together.

He flicks his wrist to check his watch when a timer beeps twice. You can’t help it when your eyes linger on his hand. You’ve always had a fixation on his them—on how big and warm they are in comparison to yours, on how his long fingers stretch across your body, and how they gently wrap around you and pull you close like he’d die without touching you. Those hands that had once forced you to attempt to resonate with him for three days had become soft, remorseful and loving. And he’d more than earned your forgiveness.

“Dinner should be ready.”

You grin. “You brought your chef?”

“Just for this trip,” he retorts, standing to full height. “Come.” His hand outstretches to you and you take it without hesitation.

You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly light up at the way your fingers immediately interlace with his. It’s a small joy to you, but to him it means everything—a testament to how far the two of you have come.

Dinner, as always, is perfect. Dessert even more so. You’re not too full, but more than satisfied. You give your compliments to the chef, who in turn happily skips back to the kitchen like he’s on cloud nine. And you can’t help but look at Sylus and smile as he downs his whiskey like it’s water.

“You don’t compliment your chef enough,” you comment. “One sentence from me and he acts like he’s never heard praise.”

Sylus hums as his brows raise, humored. He chuckles with the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing it to retort, “He knows his cooking is excellent. I suppose I just have a limit to how many compliments I can give out in a day.”

You place your chin in your hand. “Oh, really? Then how many do I get to have in a day?”

Adoration fills his ruby orbs. “As many as you want, my beloved.”

His hand reaches for your left over the table. Sylus’s thumb rubs over your fingers, resting atop your ring finger.

“Have I told you that you look exquisite tonight?” he whispers.

“You haven’t,” you reply cheekily. “I think you owe me a few more, don’t you think?”

The soft music in the background dies as you begin to hear your heart thunder in your ears. You do hope that Sylus can’t hear it pounding away like you can.

“Seems like I do,” he says in an exhale, leaning back in his seat but not letting go of your hand. His eyes have changed—once filled with adoration, now filled with a fire that makes heat rise to your cheeks and desire burn between your legs. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom yet, have I?”

You grin. “You haven’t. I’d like to see it.”

But what you don’t anticipate is your man standing and abruptly lifting you into a one arm carry. Your sharply inhale in surprise, arms immediately weave around his neck for support, but you know he’d never drop you anyway.

You trail your nose under his jaw, pressing a long kiss to his skin by his ear. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, the subtle presser making him hasten his long strides.

“Sweetheart—” Sylus gulps as you press two fingers to his mouth to silence him.

You pepper slow kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin every other kiss. It’s when you reach his collarbone you hear the click of a door. And seconds later you find the plush fabric of blankets underneath you and Sylus’s firm hand cradling the back of your head as he tilts your head back to capture your lips with his.

Between each heated kiss you attempt to catch your breath, only for your lover to devour your mouth with his own again and again.

“Mmmh— Sylus, let me—” another kiss “—catch my breath.”

He has a hard time pulling away. Sylus rests on one knee at the edge of the bed, hands grasping at the back of your bare calves as he catches his own breath and tries to pull himself back to his senses before he finishes himself off early.

While you toss your head back and close your eyes, trying to let oxygen catch up to your brain, Sylus lifts his head to look at you. He drinks in your appearance—the starry night sky sewn into the strapless obsidian dress (one that he had specially made for you) accentuated your body exactly the way he envisioned.

As he watches your breasts rise and fall with every breath, he feels his pants tighten even more. He’s so painfully hard just from simply kissing you—a testament to what you do to him, how deeply you affect him.

He rests his head against the plush of your thigh. As he trails his hand down your leg, he realizes you still have your heels on.

Your head snaps up at the feeling of one heel coming off, then the other.

“Sylus, what— Oh, shit.”

The momentum of him lifting your body further up the bed and hiking your dress up catches you off guard. His mouth latches to your thighs, kissing and biting all the way up until he reaches the fabric of your panties—the only thing between him and what he wants.

“Such a dark red, darling,” he hums. “Was this for me?”

“It might’ve been,” you tease.

As his finger loops around the red fabric covering you, Evol ready to help rip it off, your hand makes its way into his hair and tugs, forcing his eyes to attention.

“Rip these, I’m okay with that. Rip the dress, and I’ll kill you,” you say, half-joking. But damn did you really like this dress.

He chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “Understood.”

As soon as he tears them away and hikes your dress even further around your hips, Sylus’s mouth does nothing short of devour your pussy. You let out the loudest, wanton moan you’ve ever heard from yourself as his tongue buries itself in and against your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows, hands moving to grip the sheets beneath you to maintain some semblance of being grounded as Sylus eats you out like a starved man. Your legs are over his shoulders, allowing him the best access to your womanhood.

“Oh— Fuuuck, Sylus. Ohmygod, please don’t stop,” you beg, threading one hand through his hair again, grip tighter than earlier.

His reply comes in the form of him pushing his thick middle finger inside of you and mouth sucking on your clit. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth. His ring finger promptly follows, stretching your cunt and sinking deep inside of your walls. Tears of overstimulation line your eyes as you grasp at then pillow behind your head.

Both hands twine into his silver locks of hair, pressing him deeper into you. What you miss amidst your own haze of ecstasy is Sylus grinding himself against the mattress to find some sense of relief. His mind is at war, wanting nothing more than to cum right then and there versus wanting to watch his seed spill from your hole. It takes every ounce of self-control of his own body to not climax while he simultaneously loses his mind while his mouth is attached to your cunt.

“Don’t— Please— Sylus! Sylus, I’m gonna—”

Your back arches off of the bed, and you can’t help but press him further into you and grind against his face. Sylus’s arms wrap around your thighs, holding you steady. The deep groan of his satisfaction that leaves him only spurs you on further and further and further until your thighs clench around his head and you cum. Hard.

And Sylus more than enjoys sucking and licking away at your release as you climax, prolonging it as much as he can. He lifts your lower body into the air as he continues his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and tongue, the pressure of your thighs on either side of his head making him dizzy. Your essence coats his chin and nose, your scent driving all his senses wild and pulls the remainder of his blood down to his cock.

He gains a free hand as you tighten your legs around his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and slips it off with practiced ease before moving to unzip and unbutton his pants, tugging away at them.

When your hips stop shaking is when Sylus grabs your thighs with both hands and sets your body back down on the mattress. He hovers over you once again, taking in your disheveled appearance and partially-lidded eyes. His long fingers brush your skin and cradle your jaw.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asks.

You pant and gaze up at him. “Barely.” You swallow. “That tongue of yours is brutal.”

Sylus laughs. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the painful fact that his cock is straining against his pants. Until your knee brushes against it when you lift yourself from the bed and he groans.

You giggle as his head presses against your shoulder.

“You really shouldn’t neglect yourself like that,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Sylus’s lips meet your neck opposite of your arm wrapped around him and presses a long kiss to your sweaty skin, murmuring hotly into your ear, “There’s no one to blame but you, beloved. And I highly suggest you take responsibility.”

You moan and arch into him as his hands work on your dress, unzipping the back entirely and lowering it just below your breasts. You arch your back so he can undo the bra, and as soon as it’s on the floor, his mouth is on your chest. Sylus sucks and bites at your nipples, worshipping them and your breasts as he grinds his clothed erection into your bare pussy, soaking his dress pants in your juices.

You begin unbutton his shirt through the haze of your desire… before you slip your hands through the remaining buttons and fully rip his dress shirt apart, exposing his thick torso. You both chuckle at the sound of the buttons hitting the floor.

“Impatient?”

“Like you aren’t,” you remark.

Sylus shrugs off his shirt in a fluid motion and tosses it to the side from one arm. You manage to slide off your dress within a few moments, just as Sylus manages to get off his pants and briefs and… Oh…

You’d almost forgotten how big he is. Sure, the two of you have spent a couple more… sensual evenings together since you had him use your place as a safe house (and then him bringing you to his), but it always makes you shudder when your eyes land between the apex of his muscular thighs.

His tip weeps with precum, heavy cock red and flushed and—

Sylus’s breath is hot against your ear as he asks, “Like what you see, darling?”

—goddamn it you need it inside of you.

Your nails dig into his bicep, your other hand wrapping around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, and Sylus is more than happy to oblige. His kiss is deep and reverent. A small moan escapes him as you two briefly pull apart for air before diving back into one another.

Everything is hot; your cheeks are flushed with the heat of desire and your pussy aches to have Sylus buried inside of you.

You pull him down on top of you with the arm around his neck, your other hand grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sylus hisses, hips bucking slightly as his fingers clench at his attempts at restraint.

“Fuck,” he pants. His red eyes clear for a moment, turning into a gentleness reserved for you as he asks, “You think you can take it?”

“I think you ate me out enough earlier I’ll manage,” you joke. Then your nails dig into the meat of his back, the sensation making him softly hiss again. “But if you don’t I’ll be doing it for you then.”

Sylus chuckles, nose dipping to your collarbone.

“My beloved is always so greedy, isn’t she?”

There is no retort from you—only a loud moan as Sylus’s tip enters you fills the room. He stops after that though, and as you look up to him to ask him why he stopped, you’re stunned at the sight before you.

Sylus is flushed red, panting and sweating as his muscles flex.

“Sylus?”

“Don’t,” he warns, shaking his head. “Give me… a moment. You feel… too good.”

The implication is clear. Sylus’s head falls as he inches himself a little further, delighting in hearing you gasp as he sinks more and more inches of himself inside of you. It takes all he has not to just cum at the feel of you; every ounce of self-control he has is being tested. He’s never been harder in his life, and being inside of the woman he loves—who feels like heaven wrapped around his cock—only proceeds to spiral him into a deeper pit of pleasure.

“Sylus… Sylus, more, please,” you hears you beg.

He’s halfway in, trying to take his time and let the romance of the evening last. But at that, and the sensation of your nails digging into his back, he finds himself a goner and lets his hips fall into yours, sinking the remainder of his fat cock into the depths of your wet pussy. A deep shudder passes through him, bliss running through his body.

“Fuck. Fuck, you feel divine,” Sylus says in a deep exhale.

“You’re so big,” you gasp, eyes clouded with the haze of lust. “Oh, Sy, you feel so good.”

The praise goes to his head immediately. He drags his cock back out slowly and a whine escapes you, hating the emptiness. But when Sylus places your legs over his shoulders and leans over you, it’s over for you both.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sylus rolls his hips, sliding his full length back into the warm expanse of your pussy. His head falls back, and the pace he sets proceeds to bury you both alive underneath overwhelming ecstasy.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants, clenching his fist into the sheet. “How I feel every time I look at you? Utter perfection is all I see. Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”

All you can feel is Sylus’s weight on top of you and the feel of his heavy cock inside of you as he stretches you open on him, carving your pussy into the shape of his cock. His pelvis rubs against your clit deliciously, spurring you on further. As much as you want to drive your hips up to meet his thrusts, Sylus has you pinned down into a mating press and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

The papping noises of your bodies meeting filled the room, sending your thoughts into an even dirtier place. He feels so good reaching so deep inside of you, tip rubbing against that special spot perfectly, like you’re made to be perfect for each other. You clench around Sylus at another thought and he inhales sharply.

“What’re you thinking about?” he questions.

You shake your head. “N-Nothing.”

His long fingers grab your jaw gently. “Tell me.”

And then he slows his pace. “No, Sylus—”

“Then tell me what my beloved is thinking in that pretty head of hers,” he murmurs into your ear. “Or else.”

“I was thinking… about… Uhm…” Sylus rolls his hips back into you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as he awaits your answer.

“Well?”

“I, uh— A baby.”

At the word, you shy away into your arm. But Sylus doesn’t say anything, which makes you confused. After a couple seconds, you gaze back up at him. His eyes show how stunned he is, pupils blown as no doubt the word also revolves around his own mind.

“Sylus, I— Oh, fuucckk.”

His body weight presses your body into the mattress further, leaving you at his mercy as Sylus’s pace becomes brutal, like he’s let his base instincts take over. His big hand finds yours and twines your fingers together as he drives his cock into your pussy over and over and over again, the squelching noises only growing louder and louder in your ears.

“My kitten… wants a baby then?” He hums into your ear. “She wants me to cum inside of her and carry my baby, is that right?”

“It was… just a thought.”

He laughs as your pussy clenches around him more at his words.

“Seems like it’s more than just a thought.”

Sylus’s mouth meets yours in another kiss, powered by something more than just lust. Your brain turns fuzzy and hot, reality beginning to finally blur as another climax ascends from the depths of your core.

Your eyes shut as his mouth finds the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin with his teeth and you’ve no doubt that there’ll be plenty of love bites scattered across your skin for days after tonight.

When he nips at your ear, you squeak and clench around him again. Sylus groans into your ear, “Do that again.”

You oblige, clenching down on him and making him piston himself in and out of you faster. Every thrust turns into one that pushes the air from your lungs. All you can see, all you can feel is Sylus—feel his body heat as he presses your body down with his; feel the thickness of his cock stretch you open and the weight of his balls as they slap against your ass.

And it feels so good. The shlick and pap noises are getting to you. The coil that’s been winding up all night finally feels like it’s about to burst. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressing into Sylus’s firm chest.

“Ohmygod, Sy, gonna cum, gonna cum fuckfuckfuuucckkk!”

He nips at your earlobe, biting down on it gently before whispering into your ear, “Indulge, my love. Indulge and I’ll fulfill every single one of your desires tonight.”

At long last, the coil snaps. Euphoria pilots itself to your brain and all across your body. You shake from the intensity, having to wrap your arms around Sylus to ground yourself as you reach your high.

Your orgasm sends him over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before he finds himself pressing himself as deep as he can possibly go and releasing his seed inside of your pussy. It’s almost too much, even for him. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum harder than tonight.

Your bodies rock together as you both fall from the heights of cloud nine. Sylus peppers your sweaty skin with kisses, across the bruised love bites he’d left earlier.

It’s only when he feels himself soft enough to slip out of you does he ask, “A family?”

Sylus’s voice is soft. So soft in fact that you barely hear him. You take a moment to reply, only to find yourself being easily lifted from the bed and onto Sylus’s chest.

“It’s… Something that’s crossed my mind a few times,” you admit bashfully.

Silence fills the air for a moment before he asks again, in the same, quiet tone he’d just used.

“With me?”

Your smile stretches across your face instantly. Your lips meet his chest, right over his heart. Your eyes meet his—uncertainty meeting unconditional love.

“And no one else.”

The next three days after are filled with you and Sylus partaking in all the activities that his yacht has to offer (plus more intimate times across the boat and it’s other rooms). He’d told you at one point that he would’ve just used the one he sails on regularly. But due to him wanting to spend more time with you than anything, and for you to have fun during the trip, he’d bought another and hired the captain to ensure safe passage.

Tonight however, was the night that you both were supposed to be arriving at your destination. You tried to help the anxiety and giddiness inside of you, trying to flatten it under a cool demeanor but Sylus just saw right through you.

Of course he would.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like I’m taking you into enemy territory,” he jokes, gaze flicking to you from the stars in the open sky.

“I know that. I just can’t help it,” you mutter.

You shiver from the cold breeze, and Sylus shrugs off his leather jacket and places it over your shoulders. He leans down and zips it partway, resting his chin atop your head.

“Those hunter instincts of yours need to settle down,” he hums.

“I wish they would— Sylus!”

A hearty chuckle leaves him as you bounce away from his hold. Your eyes narrow at his treachery.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t you try and tickle me,” you warn playfully. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, trying to pull the sleeves back from over your palms to point at him. “Or I’m gonna tickle you back.”

Sylus smirks and rubs his fingers together. “Is that a challenge?”

“Mr. Sylus, Mrs. Sylus,” greets a familiar voice.

Embarrassment makes you duck your head away from the captain for a brief moment before you look at him.

“Just thought I’d come and let you know we’ll be docking soon.” The captain takes his hat off and bows before you both. “Thank you for allowing me the chance to sail you both for the last three days.”

Sylus nods his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you for giving us safe passage, Arthur.”

Arthur nods, reapplies his cap and heads back to steer the ship into the upcoming port.

You don’t get to watch as he disappears since Sylus wraps his arms around you, pulling your chin to his chest. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I do believe we’re here.”

The distraction of the captain was long enough that the scenery before you had changed into the moonlit sea into a large landmass illuminated by the full moon above.

Your jaw drops open at the sight, eyes lighting up as you get closer and closer to the port where the ship would dock.

“Sylus, where are we?” you ask quietly.

“It’s an island,” he states. “One that I bought awhile back and was making… renovations for.”

“Renovations? For what?”

He laughs softly and looks at you like you’re a goddess. “For whom, you mean.”

Your eyes widen into saucers. Is he…? Could he seriously mean…?

“Sylus, you bought me an island?” you inquire, utterly flabbergasted.

“I can’t exactly un-buy it, so I do hope you’ll like it,” he replies. To your ears and yours alone you can hear his wavering tone, like he’s awaiting your disappointment. You can’t have that.

You cup his cheeks and force him to look at you again.

“Sylus, I love it; even if it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever been gifted, I love it. It’s just going to take me time to get used to it,” you tell him. Then you step on your tippy-toes and give him an eskimo kiss. “Thank you. I love you.”

You kiss him there at the front of the ship, wrapped in his warm, protective embrace, momentarily oblivious to the world and your surroundings.

What you’re also oblivious to, and have been since the start of the trip, is the fat diamond ring that’s been tucked away, hidden in Sylus’s bottom drawer to his dresser. And also to the fact of his other reason of being nervous.

To him hoping that you’ll say “yes” when he gets down on one knee to ask you to marry him.

But he’ll save that for later. Right now he intends to indulge and savor your lips on his and you being tucked into him, safe from the world to be loved and worshipped by him.

And hopefully, for the rest of this lifetime.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Villain!Ghost x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Your husband wants your company..

A/n: GUYS OMG, I know it's been 1 month and a little more since my last official work. I've been procrastinating on this for so long since I only have less than a week till school again.. Also everyone I love on this app is just disappearing, like @ghost-cyphera just deleted her account 4 days ago and I got the notif but didn't see it in time, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Just wanted to apologize to you guys after being gone for so long as well. Also, another villain!Ghost drabble? 👀

Finding it difficult to walk was one of the least things you've suspected you'd be concerned of upon conceiving, always needing your handmaiden's help in such a mundane task was shameful to say the least but your husband insisted.

If it hadn't been the hand maiden then it would've been him instead, you couldn't keep him from his duties from the kingdom as he carried even yours. Wanting you to turn your attention to the health of the babe growing in you and especially yourself..

"My lady.." you were pulled out of your thoughts by the voice of your handmaiden. You took in a breath from the cool air that blew on your face as you stood by the stone railing..

"Yes, Leticia?" You turned to her..

"The prince consort has requested your company.." Leticia announced, you nod as you removed your hand from the cold stone. You glanced once more to the people of your kingdom, going about their day and life before gently lifting yourself off from leaning on the stone.

Leticia offered you her arm to help you walk more efficiently..

...

"You sent for me..?" You asked your husband, he was sat and signing another set of documents and scrolls. You closed the door, palms gently pushing till you heard it click.

"No, I told them to announce my arrival to you. How dare they exert my wife by giving her false instructions.." he huffed to which you laughed. He wouldn't do anything violent about it, as he so usually does with staff that don't comply but he knew it'd upset you if anything gory were to happen to them.

"I am quite alright, I need to move around too. It's proven to be good for our child." You said, sitting next to the graciously comfortable chair next to his working desk that he had someone make for you.

You felt relief from the pressure previously on your back, hand on the bump of your stomach and with that a sigh came from your lips. Peacefully watching your husband, the sound of the satisfying scratching of the quill on the crisp papers.

You felt his hand grasp yours, he pulled it, lips resting on the back. His affection made your heart beat faster and he felt it, the pad of his index finger on your wrist. The thumping made him chuckle as you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.

"You should rest for a while, my love. You'd work yourself to sickness at this point." You kiss his cheek softly. He put his quill down, "If that's my wife wants.." he said.

He wrapped his arm around you, the other hand placed on your baby bump. His thumb gently rubbing, you jolted a bit feeling a strong kick..

It made you groan, how restless the rascal is. Your husband adjusted his hand to feel the next kick.. he'd swear it was a girl, not that he'd care for that sort of thing. He'd kill for them either way, especially for you. He could stare at you all day, swollen with his child.

How glowing you looked wrapped in the finest silk and the gold and jewels in your hair and body clicking upon contact with another piece, he wished he could tell you how utterly speechless you'd leave each man by just walking passed them but to him no word is enough to describe you.

At least he could spend these small intimate moments with just you and you alone, free of the world for even just a few minutes as he needed a break from the work he very much was eager to do to be able to receive praise from his wife..

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle

[gorogues]

YES! The other Rogues mostly have him muted for this reason 🤭

where?

[angelsforthenight]

i could eat that girl for lunch… (ellie williams)

ways you can help gaza🇵🇸

summary: you post cute pictures on your story in the hopes of gaining a certain girl’s attention… luckily you get more than what you anticipated ;)

cw: mdni, fem!reader, texting, cunnilingus, desperate top!ellie, teasing sub!reader, cannibalistic metaphors, cursing, ellie is goofy lmao

you’re this close to screaming. the winged eyeliner on your left eye somehow keeps fucking up; either looking too splotchy or shorter than your right one. what’s pissing you off the most is the fact that you aren’t even going anywhere… getting all dolled up just to take it all off in 15 minutes, just to post cute little photos on your story and, of course, just to get her attention.

ellie williams. the name rolled off your tongue with such velvety sleek. every single one of your friends knows her name; has had to endure through your countless obsessive gushes.

you two had met during a party. having been in a drunken haze, you barely remember the first conversation that sparked such an interest, but you do remember her gin breath against your ear: asking/shouting, amidst the blaring music, if you had wanted to go somewhere a little more quieter. the night ended up in you being fingered in her car, before being driven back home by her. a freckle-faced angel in a leather jacket coated with small pins and badges. you were immediately hooked. but it’s been a week since then, and you two haven’t spoken. having achieved her number, you thought of messaging, but didn’t want to come across as desperate, even though you so are.

you thank instagram suggested for bringing you her account on a platter; being filled with niche, introverted posts of every cool-looking thing but her face. she doesn’t even have a “me” highlights! you can’t tell if her lack in posting her face is a blessing or a curse. so here you are, getting ready to post on your story since you followed her the day before. the skin around your eye is starting to sting by the amount of times you’ve been wiping and restarting your eyeliner. it needs to be perfect. you’ve orchestrated all this to be perfect. you take a deep breath and focus, striving to get the perfect wing.

“thank fuck.” you murmur under your breath once you finally get it right, before enveloping your lips in lipstick. you admire yourself in the mirror once done. you look fucking amazing.

since you spent way too long putting on your makeup, it wouldn’t be fair to yourself to only post one picture, so you post a couple. a mirror picture following up a layout of 4 images with the perfect song in the background. a little smile tugs at your lips as you replay the story two, three, four times before setting it on do not disturb and finding something else to do. your heart pounds at the thought of ellie seeing it, praying that she’ll interact. even a simple like will do.

after removing your makeup and getting into your pyjamas, you click on a movie to pass time, setting your phone on do not disturb. half an hour passes, and you’ve been neurotically checking your phone for a sign of ellie to appear on your notifications, but nothing. you check your story to see if she’s seen it but again, nothing. another hour passes, and you check for any sign of ellie. nada. look at my story, you freak! are the words etched in your head, words you wished you could telepathically scream at her. you remember you set your phone on do not disturb for a reason, so you place it far away and focus on finishing the film.

a while later, you’re slumped on your couch on the verge of falling asleep. the movie’s ended and it was so boring that you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open. you decide to check your do not disturb notifications one last time before taking a nap, until your eyes fall on the name ‘ellie.’ you immediately jerk up, awake and alert: your thumb automatically pressing the notification centre so you can see what it reads.

seventeen minutes ago.

ellie liked your story

ellie liked your story

ellie replied to your story: doll face

ellie replied to your story: you need a seat? lemme volunteer 🙏🙏

a shit-eating grin lights up your face. fucking finally! not once but twice! you excitedly draw your knees up to your chest, eager fingers tapping away, ready to respond - regardless of how long you’d been waiting for her texts. play it cool….

y/n: hahaha thank u thank u <3

y/n: (replied) oh word?

you’re surprised and very happy when you see the ‘typing…’ your heart doing goddamn backflips.

ellie: wooooord

ellie: literally cannot stop replaying ur story… bring that over here 🙁

ellie: come over

!!! your heart sinks all the way down to your ass. the hell does she mean come over?

y/n: ur not serious lmaoaoaooa

ellie: i’m being deadass,,, come over.

you look at the time. it’s almost 1 in the morning.

y/n: idek where u live bru😭😭😭😭

y/n: if anything you should come over since you’ve driven me to my house b4

ellie: mmm nahhhh

you blink in disbelief when ellie sends her location over. she’s not kidding.

y/n: girl i look bummy… i don’t even have any makeup on anymore :< took it off

ellie: i really don’t care

ellie: plsplspsls come over

ellie: u won’t regret it……………. trust 🤓🤓

next thing you know you’re leaving your house in your plaid shorts and a silly graphic tee. thankfully, ellie only lives 10 minutes away, so you take a bus before walking up to her apartment.

y/n: i’m cominggg

ellie: LOL yeaa you will be coming real soon 😇😇😇

though you cringe at her text, your body betrays you; your stomach forming a deep pit. she’s so sultry and playful you don’t know even know what to think. and there goes your heart again, hastily beating away like there’s no tomorrow. you reach the door, a trembling hand raising up to knock.

“hi.” ellie beams, smiling like an idiot. her eyes seize you from head to toe, “nice fit.”

“told you i looked bummy...” you mumbled, trying your best not to seem nervous. ellie moves aside so you can come in. her apartment smells exactly like she does; that faint campfire scent, conjoined with a forest-ey musk. a forest fire you were more than willing to burn in.

“so…“ you begin, with nothing prepared to follow up after that.

“sooooooo….” ellie repeats blithely.

“it’s been a week since… you know…” you whisper, awkwardly shifting your legs.

“since…?” ellie blinks, furrowing her eyebrows. she’s taunting you, trying to play innocent when it’s pretty fucking obvious what you’re on about.

“the party.” you respond, entertaining her coyness for no reason.

“party?” ellie pretends to think, looking up at nothing. “oh!! yeah… jesse’s one.” she smirks.

you smirk back, furrowing your eyebrows in amusement. “you could do so much better at playing dumb, y’know…”

“you think so?” ellie narrows her eyes, tilting her head as she steps closer. the impish smirk on her face never leaves. she’s having fun. you both are.

“yup. for your own good, don’t choose acting as a career.”

“for my own good?”

“for your own good.” you haven’t even realised how close you two are to each other now, daring eyes locked with another pair of daring eyes. takes one to know one. a silence permeated with tension fills the room.

“c’mere…” ellie finally mumbles before cupping your face with both hands and bringing you in for a kiss. you’re quick to melt in her grasp, your hand finding it’s way to ellie’s hair, giving it a playful tight squeeze that elicits a quiet groan from her. her hands, those goddamn hands, then move to your waist, pulling you closer. you two don’t even waste time before you’re making out with such fervor. save the sweetness for later, it’s the hunger that’s on display for now. the memory of her lips were starting to slip away from your mind and you’re glad you’re here to reboot it.

once you pull away, ellie’s eyes drift to something behind you. you follow her gaze, only for your eyes to land on a chair in the middle of the goddamn living room. it’s so random that you can’t help but burst out laughing.

“why is there a chair?” you ask in the midst of your laughing fit. it’s not even that funny, but the laughing is helping with your nerves.

“it’s for you.” ellie giggles too, a light pink tint on her cheeks that’s hard to miss.

“me?” you blink rapidly, your gaze darting from the chair to ellie, “do i sit?” you ask stupidly.

“no, you stand.” sarcasm laces her tone, as she giggles a little more, “go sit.”

“don’t order me around like i’m your dog.” you respond playfully, but you do as she says. despite your ‘tough’ front, you’d do anything she’d tell you to. guess she was being literal about offering you a seat…

ellie grins down at you, angling your chin up so you’re looking at her. you can feel the heat start to prickle in your face, down your neck and pervading the rest of your body. her thumb traces along your bottom lip, slightly dragging it down. there’s that same darkened look she had back in her car, one that makes you feel so small.

“so cute… like a human deer.” she murmurs distractedly, almost like she’s talking to herself instead of you. your head grows fuzzy, blushing even more. you mindlessly squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the growing heat in between. ellie notices.

“you doing okay?” she softly asks, unable to mask the smug look on her face. you nod quietly. with her eyes kept on you, she lowers down until she’s on her knees, her smile growing. she kisses the top of both your kneecaps in such a tender way it sends tingles down your spine.

“can i eat you?” she breathes, her voice hollow and needy. it takes a second for those words to register in your brain.

“you…” you trail off. ellie’s gaze is very, very distracting. so intense and intrusive. she patiently waits for your answer, resting her chin on top of your knees. how can someone look so adorable and intimidating at the same time?

“please?” she adds, and you smile. a realisation has just dawned on you: you like to make her wait.

“eat me?” you cock your head to the side in feigned confusion. now it’s your turn to play dumb.

“yeah… like, your pussy.” ellie mumbles, becoming so desperate that it’s funny. she needed to be humbled at least a little. “i want a taste…”

“yeah?” you mock, and ellie’s face warps into a frown. “stop teasing me.”

“it’s only payback.” you shrug.

“for what?” ellie whines.

“for taking a week to text me.”

ellie stares at you for a moment. “then let me make it up to you…” her eyes travel down to your clamped thighs, wanting to open them up so bad. truth is, you’d let her devour you. chew you up like a deranged creature and watch her greedily lick the blood from her fingers. but teasing her was just so damn fun.

“aren’t your knees getting tired?” you tease, cupping the side of her face as she stares up at you with puppy eyes. it’s getting hard to resist. ellie immediately shakes her head.

“for you? never.” she whispers. your grin broadens in satisfaction. such sweet words. meaningless? maybe, but cute nonetheless.

“fine…” you sigh, leaning back and gesturing for ellie to go forth. ellie’s face lights up like a bulb, eagerly parting your legs. the movement makes you shiver, as you can feel the heated moisture of your arousal seep through your underwear. despite your shorts still being on, ellie’s lips travel up, both hands gripping your sides as her lips leave fond, wet kisses along your inner thigh. her teeth clench around the hem of your shorts, letting out a muffled chuckle as she playfully pulls your shorts down with her teeth. she’s kidding around but that’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life.

you adjust your knees so that your shorts can be pulled down. you’re so wet your underwear is fucking see-through. you just know she’s about to say something.

“someone’s real excited-“

“shut up and keep going.” you hastily cut her off out of embarrassment. ellie laughs, glancing at you one more time before leaning back down again, dragging her ardent tongue up your inner thigh. you gasp quietly, and that little noise influences her to do more, letting out a sigh of her own; the sort of sigh you do when relaxing in a hot bath, or when pissing after holding it in for so long… like she’s needed this. you’re startled when ellie drags her tongue right in the center of your clothed heat, your breath hitching. you want more.

ellie’s teasing is relentless and mean. she sucks your clit through your underwear, eyes on you; observing the way your hips are desperately buckling up, the way your thighs are twitching.

“so mean…” you whine as ellie flicks and rolls her tongue against your underwear.

“did you want something?” ellie blinks. again with the coyness. you scowl and ellie grins in return.

“you can’t outdo the do-er, babe.” she chirps, pulling the drenched underwear off your legs. she opens your legs wide, staring at your pussy like it’s the best piece of artwork she’s ever seen. you can practically see sparkles in her eyes. you shiver when you feel her fingers pry your cunt open.

“so fucking hungry for you…” she whispers, her breathing shallow and her eyes glazed-over. she gets to work immediately, a firm trail up your vulva before kissing it with her lips. a fleshed moan doesn’t fail to escape your own lips, as your eyes flutter shut. of course she’d be good at this.

ellie moans too, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer, burying her face in between your legs as she goes to town on you. she’s moving like she’s starving, like she hasn’t eaten for weeks and has been presented with a banquet.

her lips tug at your folds, your pussy slick with a mixture of your arousal and her spit. every single time her lips hit your clit it elicits yet another strong reaction from you. she’s so vigilant that she’s quick to notice that that’s your most delicate spot, so she abuses it; kissing it and pulling on it, her head shaking as she pleases you with her tongue. you nourish her with hushed praises: ones like “yes, yes…” or “you’re doing so good” to keep her going. it fuels ellie like no other, and drives her to go harder, a little faster.

her movements are so consistent and perfect that you could froth in the mouth right here and now. you grip her hair tightly, and ellie adores it: groaning happily when you squeeze too tight. you mindlessly push ellie’s head closer to your pussy, feeling the tip of her nose buried in. your moans begin to crescendo. you’re in fucking ecstasy.

“getting close, are we?” ellie pants, her thumb rubbing your clit in slow, teasing drags as she resumes sucking on your cunt.

“i’m gonna cum… i’m cumming… e-ellie…” you babble, tears threatening to pour; and it isn’t just the eye tears we’re talking about here…

“yeah? you gonna let yourself go?” ellie stares up at you, her voice a little higher and breathier. her face is warped into one of pleasure, like she’s the one being fucked.

“yeah… please ellie, i’m really close…” you whine: barely coherent, light tears streaming down your face. ellie chuckles at how adorable you look, taking a second to appreciate how good you look when needy. she dives back in, her nails digging into your thigh as her mouth moves with the perfect vigour to push you off the edge. and oh, you do.

one last strong lick gets you off: your spine bending backwards, same as your head as you let out a strangled scream. you grip her hair tightly, your eyes momentarily rolling to the back of your head as ellie purposely continues to extend the high a little bit. eventually, she pulls back. the both are you are completely out of breath - huffing and panting like dogs.

you slump back in your chair, completely out of it and in a daze. ellie smiles.

“you okay?” she murmurs, appreciating your cute, spent look. you nod quietly in response.

“fuck, my knees.” she mumbles, before sitting back and stretching them. you laugh a little.

“there was no need for the chair.” you reply.

“i know… but i wanted to. it was hot.”

“it was.” you smile. you’re glad you decided to get dolled up for your story tonight.

a/n: i’m back! i’ve been so caught up in school that i haven’t been able to post fics as much but i’ll try 2 be more active :33 i’m absolutely obsessed with billie’s lunch so i made an ellie fic based off of it. hope u enjoyed and if u have any requests leave them in the ask inbox !!!

[rindreamery]

more than friends?

moments that make you reconsider if you’re really just friends with blue lock men. featuring: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, oliver aiku ─ content: can be determined as mostly gn! reader. can count as fluff, but mostly suggestive. mentions of alcohol consumption (aiku), mentions of a dress (kaiser, implied but not stated fem! reader), kaiser is mean

note. haven't made a hc post in a hot minute. situationships hc coming next cus i unfortunately, oddly enough, like situationships LMAOO i also just have too many irl situationship inspo

an almost kiss with itoshi rin.

“rin, can you help me get this?” turning your body to face him, the words die in your throat.

you realize a second too late that he’s standing right behind you, reaching for whatever you asked him to previously— and you almost crash right into his chest. he’s close. so close that you can feel the heat emanating from his skin, despite the blast of the air conditioning above you. that you can practically feel his shallow breaths ghost over your face. 

as he brings his arm down to hand you the book, head tilting down to look at you, you lock eyes. a second passes, or two, before it clicks in his mind what position you’re in. and you both freeze, seemingly frozen in place, and in time. 

rin’s eyes widen, and his breath gets caught in his throat, audibly hitching. but he doesn’t take a step back, nor does he make any move to put some comfortable distance between the two of you. though, to be fair, neither do you— keeping you stuck in whatever weird space the two of you have put yourselves in.  

the first one to break eye contact is you. your eyes flit to his lips, watching as they part to take a breath, before you can even process exactly what you’re doing. you stare a little too long, lingering for a second longer than necessary. before your eyes fly back to his in a panic, only to see that he’s staring at your lips too. 

it feels like you’re blacking out— and maybe, you are. you don’t remember the exact moment when your body started gravitating towards him, or when he started leaning in a little closer too. your bodies seemingly move on their own, listening to your hearts and not your minds, ignoring the blatant alarms going off in your heads. you’re leaning in, just a little, inching slowly and testing for any reaction from him. you can see his adam’s apple bob as he gulps, and you see the exact moment his eyes cloud over, before he’s mirroring you. you think for a second that, maybe, this is really happening. 

his lips are a breath away, and the distance between you is almost nonexistent. you can practically feel his lips on yours— so close, almost there. just a little more and you’ll have a taste. he's closing the gap, your eyes fluttering shut in response, and so does his, in tandem. the rush of excitement you feel is undeniable— the way your nerves fire with sparks under your skin, tingling. 

but then your phone rings.

the shrill sound of your ringtone cuts through the air, snapping the two of you out of your daze. your eyes fly open, and you both jerk back immediately, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. the moment is effectively ruined; the thick, hazy, palpable tension that once surrounded the two of you is now filled with an awkward, uncertain air. 

as you both pull away, neither of you say anything, too flustered to speak. he’s avoiding looking into your eyes, staring at the ground as if he were wishing it would swallow him whole. and, really, you can’t judge. you’re looking everywhere but rin, trying to calm your heart into something that doesn’t feel like arrhythmia. 

there’s an unspoken agreement that hangs in the air— a silent promise that neither of you will bring this up ever again, too afraid to risk your friendship. but, deep down, you know it’s something neither of you can forget.

receiving jewelry from itoshi sae.

gifts from sae were always unexpected and random. 

in his hand is a simple, and undeniably beautiful necklace— something he knows you like. something he's heard you talk about for months, seen on opened tabs on your laptop as he passes by, heard in conversations with friends during your phone calls. it was always something he’d kept in the back of his mind, always an open tab in his phone. even offering to buy it for you before, in passing, which was met with a hard ‘no’ from you. still, he pushes his hand to you, offering the gift now. 

“sae,” you hesitate, words trailing off as you figure out what to say. speechless would be an understatement. feeling grateful, in awe, and mildly embarrassed all at once. you can feel your cheeks heating up, looking at the necklace in his hands as you avoid his watchful eyes. “i already said you didn’t have to buy it for me. i was going to buy it… eventually.”

“want me to put it on you?” your words fly over his head, or maybe, he’s simply ignoring it. 

you press your lips into a line, finally looking into his eyes, as you hold in a shallow sigh of defeat— already coming to terms that, regardless of what you say, nothing would change his mind. so instead you nod, offering him a small and thankful smile, finally accepting the gift. 

“turn around,” he tells you, fingers already working on unclasping the necklace in his hands. you listen, turning around and waiting with baited breath as he moves to stand behind you. he inches closer than necessary, looming behind you in a way that makes you so hyperaware of him. the feeling of his fingers as they brush over your shoulder to loop the necklace around you, his steady breath on the nape of your neck— you feel it all at an elevated level. 

you gasp as the cool metal of the necklace hits your skin, in contrast to the warmth of his fingers as they make work of the clasp. it takes a few seconds, before you feel the clasp fall against your neck, but his fingers stay on your skin. tracing the line of the necklace as it travels to the junction of your shoulder. 

“do you like it?” sae leans down, whispering the words into your ears. you ignore the warmth that sweeps over your body, holding tight onto the necklace between your fingers, admiring the way it looks against your skin. 

“yeah, i do. it’s perfect.” you nod, your voice quiet and weak, unable to focus from the way your head starts to spin at the proximity. you can hear him let out a satisfied hum behind you, leaning back just a little to give you some space. “thank you, really.”

but he doesn’t pull away, and you feel his eyes on your neck as you twiddle with the jewelry in your fingers. 

unreasonable jealousy from michael kaiser.

“does this dress look nice?” pulling out a dress from deep in your closet, you pull it closer to your body before facing kaiser. 

he sits comfortably on your bed, resting on the headrest as he scrolls through his phone, looking bored out of his mind. his eyes are hooded, body slumped, and sighing loudly every five minutes as if urging you to get this over with. though, you suppose in his defense, you’d been doing this for the past two hours. with little to no progress being made. 

never putting his phone down, he glances at you, then the dress, and then back at you. there’s an unamused expression on his face, both brows raising imperceptibly and letting out a derisive laugh, and it makes the smile on your face falter for a second. “why are you trying so hard to impress this guy, anyway?” as hard as he tries to hide the contempt in his voice, trying to mask it with his usual mocking tone, it slips through. “next dress.”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden edge in his voice, an elusive frown forming on your face. "what do you mean?" you ask, suppressing a sigh as your arms fall to your side, the fabric of the dress bunching up as you grip it between your fingers.

you don’t want to put it down yet— refusing to put it next to you on the pile of other pretty, rejected clothes.

kaiser doesn’t immediately answer, but you notice the way his thumb scrolls slower across his phone screen now. his gaze flickers back to you, scrutinizing, and almost annoyed? evident in the way his lips press into a tight line, jaw clenching and unclenching as he sorts through his thoughts. a brief, almost unnoticeable, flicker of frustration crosses his features before he slumps even further, his voice quieter but more pointed. "it’s just a first date. don’t you think it's kind of pathetic? all this effort for some guy you’re not even sure is going to stick around?"

his words sting more than you want them to. 

the dress feels heavier in your hands, like a weight you're not sure you want to carry anymore— and frankly, it ruins any excitement you have for your date. you bite your lip, chewing on the skin. you want to ask him why he even cares, why he's hell bent on making you think that every man is bound to ditch you after the first date, why he can’t seem to be happy for you.  

you hold up the dress, this time with less confidence. "i didn’t know wanting to look good for a date was such a crime." admittedly, your voice is snappy and irritated, almost glaring at him from where you stand. 

“it’s not.” he says, ignoring the heated look in your eyes. “looking good for other men is, though.”

going drinking with oliver aiku.

from being friends with aiku for practically all of your life, you’d think you know better than to say ‘yes’ to his whims. but it seems that time has only weakened your resolve.

“come here.” aiku sits lazily on the couch, an arm slung over the backrest, his legs parting to comfortably make space for you. you watch him in silence from where you sit, raising a brow at him as he throws you that signature smirk of his— before he’s patting the space between his legs, motioning for you to come over. “help me drink?”

“what?” comes your surprised response, mouth dry and voice cracking as you speak. despite your loose state, your back straightens at his words, and you grip the glass in your hands. “what do you mean ‘help… you drink’?”

“pour a shot into my mouth. the one you’re holding in your hand right now.” he motions to it with a nod of his head, voice slightly slurring but way too casual for your liking. as if what he was asking were normal, and totally not crossing some unspoken boundary between friends. “come on, just this once.”

the logical part of your mind screams at you from somewhere in your head, telling you not to do it. but it’s quickly tamped down by his pleading eyes, and the ‘please’ that slips past his lips. you get up and you take your time walking over to the couch, treading with short and slow steps, giving yourself a chance to back down.

but you don’t. 

with an uncertain look on your face, you place a knee between his legs, a hand shooting out to steady yourself as you lean over him. the hand holding the glass is shaking— from nerves, or from being mildly inebriated, or maybe a hefty mix of both— the drink sloshing around as you carry it to him. you feel his hands on your waist, firm and warm, preventing you from tipping over.

finally finding the courage to look into his eyes, you do. they’re so unfocused, yet so focused on you, and it makes you breathe in heavily, as if second guessing the normality of what you’re about to do. sensing your hesitation, his fingers squeeze at your waist. “go on.”

it's reckless and impulsive, but clearly, you aren't in the right state to be making smart decisions. your fingers hook under his chin, his eyes intently honing in on you as you do so, as you bring the glass to his lips. you press it against his lips, watching as they part to make space for the intrusion, before his fingers latch onto your wrist.

he doesn’t break eye contact as he guides you, gaze heavy and imposing, that it almost makes you want to pull away. but you can’t— his hands keep you firmly in place. you’re forced (though, you know a part of you willingly stares) to watch as he guides your hand to tilt the glass, pouring the contents into his mouth. 

aiku’s fingers linger on your skin even when the drink is long gone, and it makes you squirm. you cough, bringing one of your hands to your mouth to form a fist, as you bashfully look away. “all done here now, right?”

a beat passes, before you feel the heat of his hands leave your skin, “yeah.” and you pull away from him.

© rindreamery, 2025

[stunie]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”

WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader

sfw. wc: 2.6K. oh how i’ve been wanting to write this since i finished the manga! but individual warnings are below <3

KAJI REN. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ comments about your outfit

“My boyfriend’s real scary y’know.” Your voice falters a bit as you take another step back, hands coming up defensively. “And he’ll be here any moment.”

It’s a lie that you hope sounds convincing— because Kaji coming to save you today may be nothing more than a desperate wish of yours. How would he even find you in a place like this? You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed since you’ve started running, but you’re certain that by now, you and Kaji should have already been inside the bakery, finally getting to taste test the new fruit pastries you’d been dying to get your hands on.

It started off as just a loud whistle your direction, then led to an uncomfortable conversation about how you’re not interested— and that you have a boyfriend. One thing led to another, and somehow you’ve ended up here, out of breath from speed walking and completely lost— and to top it off, the only person near you is the one you’ve been running so desperately from.

You wish Kaji was here already.

“Oh yeah?” The man in front of you takes a step towards you, lips contorting into a sick grin when he sees your hands trembling. “I don't see him.”

Your lips tremble a bit when he reaches you, towering over you with ease. “Don’t you dare touch me.” You warn, “My boyfriend will beat your a—” you yelp as you’re suddenly pulled to the side, stumbling into someone’s chest as they pull you flush against their front.

The familiar scent of candy melts away your fear in a split second.

“Kaji!”

You can tell when you glance at him just once that he isn’t happy. His forehead is damp with sweat, and he looks disheveled, chest rising up and down with labored breaths— he must have been running around trying to find you this entire time.

Your boyfriend clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the man in front of him. “Problem?”

He rips off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck as the man feigns an apology, unapologetic eyes looming over your figure again seconds later. “But y’know man, you should be keeping a closer eye on your girl,” he points to you with a smug smile, “she was practically begging for me to say something with the way she’s dressed.”

“I wasn’t!” You protest, face burning as you tug on ren’s coat. You thought your outfit was cute— and definitely not anything crazy— you double checked. You really did. But he’s pointing at you now, rambling on about how you wanted this— and you can’t help the way tears start to blur your vision.

“Huh?” Kaji snarls, head tilting to leer at the man. The arm around your waist pulls you tighter against his chest, and you hear the angry thumping of his heart. “What'd you say?”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” The man chuckles in defeat. “I was just joking. Wasn’t gonna actually do something to your girl.” he waves him off. “You should lighten up—”

He chokes when Kaji grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him off balance before knocking him backwards, your pursuer falling roughly onto the floor as he winces in pain. “Then get outta here already.” Kaji glares, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand is pressing against your lower back to guide you away.

“And don’t let me catch you looking at my girl again.”

TOGAME JO. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ you wear his jacket

Togame gives you a sleepy smile as he watches you from Miniso’s entrance, excitedly sorting through the newly restocked blind boxes. He was resting his back against the wall behind him when he caught his first glimpse of that guy.

He’s wearing a dark hoodie, head turning back to shamelessly stare your direction as he passes by slowly. It’s enough to get togame back up on his feet immediately, quickly heading your way just as the man reaches to get a feel of your thighs—

“How shameless.” Togame laughs, big hand squeezing painfully into his wrist. “Tryna bother my girl?”

In any other situation, Togame would chuckle at your obliviousness, your headphones cancelling out any noise as your eye catches the cinnamoroll section, letting out an excited gasp as you head that way. You really had no idea.

“M-my bad man.” He stutters, ripping his arm from Togame’s grasp. “Just thought she was my sister— was just gonna tap on her back to grab her attention.”

Togame raises an eyebrow at the lazy excuse, leaning down until the man takes a nervous step back, eyes darting to the side to avoid Togame’s glare. “Sister? That’s my Shishitoren jacket she has on, no?”

The man feels heavy beads of sweat roll down his face when Togame’s hands curl into clenched fists. “You mean to tell me your lil sis is from Shishitoren?”

“I said it was my bad,” he repeats, chuckling nervously. “It won’t happen again okay? I won’t bother her again.”

Togame’s hands return to his pockets. “Won’t let you off so easy next time,” his voice is low as he steps aside to let him off, “so you’d better keep your distance.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. referred to as she/her, ‘your girl’

Umemiya instinctively perks up when he hears two voices behind him, momentarily tuning out your gushing about how cute the little plant kits at barnes and noble are.

“….She's probably taken.”

“Is that her boyfriend behind her? Think she's talking to him.”

There's a chuckle between them. “Doesn’t matter. Go tell her what you just said to me when she's alone.”

“What?” The man laughs. “Ask her if i can grab a handful of that ass?”

More laughter.

Umemiya’s jaw clenches, eyes darting back at you in a flash, and he’s relieved when he sees you’re still gushing about the flower kits— completely oblivious to the two men just beyond this aisle. He’s by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh.” You turn to press a quick kiss against his temple, smiling when he melts into your touch. “Hi, Haji. Did you find a book?”

“Nothing here.” He sighs dramatically, his embrace around your middle tightening just enough for you to barely notice. “But we can grab some of those flower kits.”

“Really?”

“Of course—”

“Hey.” A familiar voice interrupts him with a stifled laugh, followed by a tap on his shoulder. With the roughness, it’s more like a jab— but he lets that slide.

“Ah— your friend, Haji.” Your voice comes off as a mix between a question and a statement.

“Hey, my friend has something to ask your girl.”

Umemiya’s jaw clenches again, and your eyes widen a bit at the sudden change in the atmosphere. The first friend’s hand is swat off of his shoulder in a split second, Umemiya straightening back up to look back at them.

Their first thought is that he’s a lot taller than they had pictured. A lot more muscular too— and they take note of the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “What, you have business with her?”

They flinch at the tone.

“Ah— sorry.” The second friend stutters. “We got the wrong person.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“Ah— what happened?” Your hands delicately cup Sakura’s face, ignoring the way his cheeks instantly turn into a deep shade of scarlet. “N-nothing happened!” He weakly swats at your hand, a futile attempt to dissipate the heat spreading through the tips of his ears.

“I was only in the bathroom for five minutes.” You laugh. “How’d you manage to get into a fight so fast?”

He stiffens when your arms come to wrap around his bicep, resuming your ramble about some recipe you wanted to try tonight. Macarons…or something. He doesn’t pay much attention, because he knows whatever you end up making will be good anyway.

“—Are you listening, Sakura?”

The clueless look he gives you confirms it. “So you weren’t. I had a feeling— but it’s okay.” You giggle. “But you didn’t answer my question from earlier either. How’d you get into a fight?”

His eyebrows furrow deeply as he decides whether or not he should tell you. “They were….” he clicks his tongue angrily, “they were talking about you when you walked by.”

You can feel his muscles tense as he deepens his scowl, still trying to fight off the blush plastered across his face. “I just gave ‘em what they deserved.”

HAYATO SUO. referred to as she/her, mentions of how you’re dressed

“What a bitch. She was totally asking for it.”

I know— dressed like a whore.”

Suo stands up from the bench outside your local convenience store, hands dusting off the dirt on his pants. You had asked him to wait outside earlier because ‘you wanted to grab him a super delicious snack that he would most definitely love.’

He had a feeling the two dirty men who entered the store minutes later were bad news, so he was already on high alert before listening in.

“That whore— you mean my girlfriend?” Suo’s voice comes out calm, a stark contrast to the sickening anger and pressure he feels building up inside his chest.

“Huh—oh. Yeah.” One of them chuckles, jutting their thumb at the entrance. “That bitch inside your girl? You let her prance around with her tits hanging out for everyone to see?”

He's calm and composed as they size him up, their chins tilting up to look down at him. “She's pretty, isn't she?” and Suo fails to stifle the chuckle that escapes his lips. “Did she reject you too harshly for your liking?”

One of them balls his fists, muttering profanities under his breath as he leans closer to him. “Now how'd you know that? You should really teach that bitch some fucking manners.” He reaches forward to grab Suo by the collar, eyes blinking in confusion when he finds himself spun behind Suo seconds later, feet struggling to find their balance.

“—The fuck did you do?”

“It’s a bad habit of hers,” Suo continues. “I understand it though, not wanting to be around a pathetic thing like you.” The edges of his lips tug into a faint smile.

The other man’s eyebrows twitch, spitting empty threats as he he throws a wide swing, only to find himself reduced to his knees seconds later. “T-the fuck...” he grumbles to himself— he could have sworn he could practically see his fist connect. What happened?

“You'd be better off looking for someone to protect yourself the way I do for her.” His words are mocking as he heads towards the store’s entrance. “And— it'd be really unfortunate if i see something like this happen again.”

TOMA HIRAGI.

“H-Hiragi? What are you doing?”

Your lips are pressed in a nervous line as your hands come to shyly rest on his chest, sucking in a breath when his arms come to roughly cage you against the train’s walls, strong body towering just over yours.

“Do you…need more space?” You whisper, heart racing at the proximity. You can smell his cologne so well at this distance.

Hiragi simply shakes his head, distracted gaze shifting between you and something behind him every few seconds. “It’s okay.”

He swears his stomach isn't churning like this without good reason. It’s not just a coincidence that the same person who he had noticed eyeing you at the boba shop had gotten onto the same train. He could let it go at that, but the same man had been slowly worming his way through the crowd to get closer to the two of you. And while he’s not certain, he thought he saw the man take out his phone and try and angle it beneath you, but not before jolting and dropping his phone onto the floor when Hiragi's hands abruptly slammed against the wall beside you.

The train suddenly rocks, sliding his phone to the other side of the train, and you’re knocked off balance, face slamming against Hiragi's chest. “S-sorry!”

“It’s okay.” He gives you a smile, hand coming to cradle the back of your head and pull you closer. “You okay?”

“I’m okay...” you mumble, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Your chest is hard.”

He responds with a light chuckle. It’ll be okay like this, he thinks. He’ll protect you with his body for now, and figure out what to do with that guy later.

KIRYU MITSUKI. ‘pretty thing’

“It’s no wonder she doesn't like you,” Kiryu sighs. “You're gross.”

Your mouth is ajar as you stare at the state of the man who was harassing you only moments ago, his unconscious body resting neatly against the wall after Kiryu had dragged him there.

“Sorry you had to watch that, pretty thing.” His hand comes to gently interlace with yours. “But he didn't leave me with much of a choice, did he?”

“It’s okay.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “That was so cool of you.”

His eyes widen a bit before his lips curl into a small smile. “Oh? You think so?”

“Mhm. I don't know what would’ve happened to me if you were there...” your voice trails off a bit.

You really don't know what would have happened, because it's not like you know how to fight or anything. Getting hit on is enough to make you nervous, so a pushy guy like that was too much— you froze up as soon as he started spitting threats after you expressed your disinterest.

There’s a light squeeze around your hands, and you’re reminded of this gentle warmth that Kiryu always brings with him. “Don't worry about it.” He gives you a small smile. “I’ll just need to accompany you more often when you go out. It’s no problem.”

KYOTARO SUGISHITA.

“You’re like a bodyguard, Kyo.”

You giggle at the huff beside you. “How’d you even react that fast?”

It all happened within a second. You were walking beside him, stopped for a brief second to bend down and peer at the plushies lining the shop window, not noticing the man approaching you— his grimy fingers coming to take a peek under your skirt. Before you had even registered the feeling of the cloth moving, there was a loud crack, and the man was on the floor, groaning with his hands covering his bloodied face and a very angry Sugishita on top of him.

“He made me angry.”

Of course he would be. And if you weren’t with your boyfriend, it would be an entirely different story. You’d bring along your assortment of self defense items, ranging from pepper sprays to taser lipsticks— and you’d be a thousand times more cautious. Pay extra close attention to everything around you.

With Sugishita, however, it’s different. You think of it as being able to turn off your brain… or something like that. Whatever lets you truly relax and enjoy your time with him, and it’s always okay because your boyfriend is there to protect you. “Well, don’t be so mad, cutie.” You smile, your fingers reaching to interlace with his as he tenses at the nickname.

“Everything is okay— I’m okay. I’ll even get us smoothies to help lighten the mood.”

He lets you drag him to your favorite smoothie shop in silence— still fuming about the incident. He wonders why you’re not shaken up. Ifnhe had been one second later, that piece of shit would have lifted up your skirt. In public. His jaw clenches at the thought, angry eyes darting at any anyone who dares look your direction.

“Why’re…” his voice trails off, remembering what Umemiya said about toning down his choice of words around others. “Why’re you so happy?”

“Hmm? I’m not too worried.” You laugh. “You’re my bodyguard right? Nothing will happen if you’re here.”

part 2

[gorogues]

This is absolutely amazing :D

He stick his leggy out real far...

Hands down one of the funniest defeats Eobard has ever suffered. Might redo this at a higher resolution, we'll see.

[tbaluver]

Hear me out !

Lnds men with baby fever

🤭

Catching Baby Fever! - The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: fluff fluff a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i'm def hearing you out bc them with baby fever is such a cutie idea (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading !! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ special thank yous to my beta readers!! @ilovemitsuya @dawnbreakerluna @luvzayne MWAH ILYALL any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

There was this feeling that stirred in his chest while his heart fluttered when he saw the little girl run into your arms during a mission. He knew this feeling only arose when he was around you but seeing you care for the child so effortlessly stirred emotions he wasn’t quite prepared for

He’s never really thought about children or had that talk with you yet but he can’t help but think what it would be like if you two had one together after your mission ended. How small they would be while he cradles them. How they would sleep in between you and him for protection.

Xavier was unusually quiet after the mission ended and when the little girl was returned safely to her mother. He’s never really thought about having children or had that talk with you yet but the idea seems nice. His heart flutters thinking of having a little one in his arms and how they would sleep safely in between you and him.

It felt like he couldn’t escape the thought of having a child no matter where he went. His favorite characters in his favorite show would suddenly have a child and he would be way more absorbed into the show than usual. Anytime he clicks on social media, his phone would be flooded with videos of parents dressing their babies up in cute onesies but one tiny baby would be dressed up in a cute bunny onesie that had him in absolute awe so he sent it to you. And how he wished you two were these two parents holding their baby’s hands, swinging them gently as they strolled through the park.

Xavier would never bring it up until you were ready to talk about it but there were subtle hints that it was lingering on his mind. Whenever you two drifted off to sleep, he’d wrap his arms around you, his head resting gently against the back of your neck. His hands would rub softly on your belly as if he was dreaming of a future family with you.

Zayne:

The pediatrics department in Akso hospital has been much more lively these past few days. Children running up to a well known hunter in Linkon city and in Zayne’s heart. Each time you visited, the children’s excitement was palpable. Every single one of their fears for upcoming surgeries and checkups were gone once you helped and remind them to stay strong. They were always eager to hear about a Hunter’s life and what it was like when you undertook missions.

However, it seems like you failed to notice your lover would often linger by the door of the room you were in, pretending to check the children’s files on the doors. In reality he was listening to every part of the story and he couldn’t help but be captivated by how effortlessly you connect with the children.

Sometimes he’d pass by the rooms you were in just to catch a glimpse of you in your element, telling them stories and making their faces light up. It was the way you laughed along with them, your sweet laughter that blended with their innocent joy and it just made his heart absolutely melt. The scenario of coming home one day and seeing that scene play out in your shared home makes his heart flutter.

It’s rare for Zayne to daydream even on his breaks, his mind always focused on the present. But he can’t help but shake off the thought of what it would be like to have an imaginary future baby with you. Would they have your eyes? Would they have your smile? Would they have your adorable laugh? Would they love you as much as he does? absolutely

Small domestic scenarios often drift through his mind, making his lips curl into a fond smile. He can’t help but chuckle to himself, imagining the three of you grocery shopping. As you place items into the cart, you catch sight of the container of macarons inside the stroller.

“Zayne!” I told you no sugar this weekend, it’s the doctor's orders!” you scoffed.

“They wanted it,” He lies as your baby coos. Unfortunately for you it’s a battle that you would lose because he knows how easily you would melt when it comes to him and to your little one.

Rafayel:

Scrolling through social media did not help him at all and only deepened his longing. Each post was either some heartwarming documentary about whales swimming with their calves or parents dressing their children up in adorable onesies. This feeling all started when he attended an art event, crowded with renowned artists when a familiar artist caught his eye. He watched as their children eagerly ran and leaped into his arms the moment he spotted their father.

He couldn’t stop imagining what a future with you and a family of his own would look like. Small scenarios of him holding your hand while his other hand cradles your little one as you all attend an event together or the joy he would have when you surprise visit him with your children, tiny feet rushing into his arms made his heart flutter. Or the scenario of your little babies first swim in the ocean and their tiny little tail swimming right beside him. Rafayel envisions playful days chasing sharks or the cutest sight of their tiny handrprints on his canvas. All of these scenarios made his heart swell with so much love at the thought of the future with you.

At first you didn’t realize just how badly he was catching baby fever. It just some subtle posts here and there until it became a streak all linked to the topic of babies followed by a message like, “isn’t this cute lul” "i would never name our child this"

For the past couple of days, anytime you two went shopping, he couldn’t help but linger around the baby area around the shop. His mind raced with thoughts of what outfits would look adorable if you two had a little one of your own. As you moved through the store, he’d get distracted by tiny canvases or art supplies made just for kids. “Can you imagine cutie? If we had a little one, they would paint right beside me”

Sylus:

He couldn’t wipe that smile off his face as he unlocked his phone and saw the pictures you’d sent of yourself babysitting your co-workers baby. On his way to your apartment to drop off some things, he was even met with an even more adorable sight. You were cradling the baby gently in your arms, soothing them to sleep. His eyes softened at the scene, his heart raced, beating faster if it was even possible.

As he helps you clean up the mess the little one made, his gaze often drifts back to you, a soft smile on his face. The thought of you playing with your own children with a beautiful ring on your finger. A family that would be his, the one you two built together with so much love. He dreams of teaching them so many things, especially the ones that would most likely end up with you scolding him and your children.

He can’t help but imagine what it would be like if these were your children instead, often updating him about the small things your baby would have done even if all they did was laugh. How you would send him cute voice messages of your children even if it was just them cooing into the mic. And he can’t help but imagine coming home from work and having you and a little on that you both call yours run up to his arms.

Once your co-worker picks up their child, he can’t shake this empty feeling his chest now that the little one is gone. The child had been so well-behaved and so sweet thanks to your care. For the last couple days, he subtly mentions how quiet the house feels without the sound of small footsteps padding around the place or without the child's laughter. He'll even bring up what could he possibly do with all the extra space at his home.

IN GENERAL ( ALL ): Regardless of what they wanted, at the end of the day, the decision would always be yours. They understand that you were the one who would carry the baby for nine months. If you felt ready and wanted to take that step, then they would do their absolute best for it to happen. A happy wife means a happy life.

[stil-lindigo]

hi, i don't know if you've seen the statistics for the arab.org clicks but in the last quarter of 2023, they generated $380 for unrwa - not a huge amount in context of palestinians who need much more than that to leave gaza, but nobody had to donate those dollars. those were generated. and generally, they raise ~$100 per quarter, with most of it coming from their own bridging the gap of donations to make it worth it. i got curious and looked at the stats yesterday and just thought i'd point it out because i feel like people don't see the results of the "daily click" and maybe this would prove that it is actually well worth it. wishing you well <3

thank you anon, that’s a really amazing point!! here’s a reminder to do your daily clicks.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]

Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]

A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it. This fic is part 1 of 3.

The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.

The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too. 

For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.

Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being. 

As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk. 

Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on. 

Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair. 

Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?” 

Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.” 

Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?” 

A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it. 

Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side. 

“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful. 

Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then. 

Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” 

Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.” 

Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction. 

“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand. 

“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.” 

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.” 

Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.” 

Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way. 

By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.  

Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?” 

Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.

“It’s the principle,” she counters. 

Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips. 

“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you. 

Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of your perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence. 

It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away. 

“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more. 

“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.

“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring. 

Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now. 

Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease. 

“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.   

“She was joking, Steve,” you assure him, chuckling. 

“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers. 

With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now. 

“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur. 

Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.” 

You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.” 

A grin eases across his face, half playful, half cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”

You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.” 

Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly. 

“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?” 

Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.

••• 

Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you. 

“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights. 

There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves. 

“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine. 

“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.” 

“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words. 

There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.  

Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”  

“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe. 

Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking. 

“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.” 

You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.” 

•••

A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed. 

When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see. 

Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to confirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him. 

Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.” 

You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”  

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel. 

A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.” 

Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose. 

His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed. 

“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could. 

You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip. 

As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady. 

“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb. 

“Really?” Your smile is unabashed. 

He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.” 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

Turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting so you don’t miss the next one.

NEXT PART (18+)

MORE

[cleo-fox]

Surrender

Summary: Finding your soulmate is supposed to be a romantic, life changing experience.

No one tells you what to do when a). your soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of your planet and made himself king and b). you kind of still want him anyway.

(Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering.

A/N: look, I was intrigued by the idea of a Loki Wins AU and also a soulmate AU and this just sort of happened. I may write more of this concept because it gave me IDEAS. This is also available on AO3.

The mark on your wrist begins to burn the minute he walks into the room.

At first you think it’s a coincidence or a mistake—there are guards walking with him, perhaps it’s one of them. But then he flinches, his right hand going to his left wrist and your heart sinks to your knees. It could still be a coincidence, you tell yourself halfheartedly.

He scans the room and when his eyes land on you, it’s like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place and you know.

He’s much taller than you thought he was—that’s the only conscious and coherent thought you manage to have as he approaches you. Being the subject of his gaze is overwhelming in a way that you sort of expect, but it still makes you want to sit down and close your eyes. He looks you over, his gaze lingering briefly on your nametag from work.

“Show me your wrist,” he says.

You don’t think he’s using his powers, but you comply automatically, extending your arm toward him, wrist turned up. There’s a frisson of electricity that buzzes along the back of your hand when he touches it—if there were any remaining doubts about who he is and his relationship to you, that feeling surely puts them to rest. You know that he must have felt something too from the way he looks at you sharply, as though he thinks you’ve done something intentional to cause this. You can only hope that your wide eyed bewilderment convincingly conveys your innocence.

His expression betrays nothing as he examines the mark on your wrist, which is now glowing a bright gold that would be pretty if the circumstances were different.

It’s funny, you think. You’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life and all you can think is that you wish it wasn’t happening.

He releases your hand and looks at you in a calculating sort of way. “Come with me,” he says finally.

You do, of course. What other choice do you have?

*

The next several hours are a blur.

You are shuffled from place to place. Usually there is at least one guard—you’re not sure why. The idea of you being able to do any damage to him is laughable and escape doesn’t exactly seem like an option. Where could you go that he could not find you?

It’s a depressing thought; you try not to think much about it.

You know exactly when the news breaks because it coincides with your phone basically becoming unusable due to the flood of notifications, calls, and texts. You put it on airplane mode to compose a short message to your family and friends. Your reassurances feel a little trite given the circumstances: I’m fine, I’ll call when I can.

You can’t exactly type what you’re really thinking, which is more along the lines of I’ve just learned that my soulmate is the homicidal maniac who led the successful takeover of our planet. I’m doing about as well as you’d expect.

You turn airplane mode off long enough to send the email. Once it sends, you power down your phone. It doesn’t seem prudent to leave it on, at least not right now—right now, it only serves as a reminder of a life you know you’re going to have to leave behind and you’re not at all ready to confront that particular loss.

They eventually take you to what you assume are his rooms. You’re surprised by how traditional the decor is—you had expected a cold sort of minimalism, but there’s more wood and warm colors than you would have thought. You are informed that there are clothes for you in the closet; you nod and say nothing, though you wonder how they managed to pull an entire wardrobe together in the span of only a few hours. Magic, perhaps.

You are finally left alone, though you’re fairly certain that you would find guards stationed outside if you were to look.

You take one of the elegant velvet throws from the bed and wrap it tightly around yourself before settling on the couch next to the window. You’re not exactly cold, but it feels like a necessary armor between you and this unfamiliar place.

You stare out the window for a long time. You’re too high up to people watch and you’re not sure that you could handle that anyway—it would be yet another reminder of the fact that your life has changed in a massive, earth shaking way that you can’t even begin to understand. Instead, you stare at the tiny cars on the city streets below, snaking their way to destinations that feel so far out of your grasp that they might as well be on a different planet altogether.

*

It’s late when he finally shows up—so late that you’ve actually gotten ready for bed, donning one of the silk nightgowns that had been left for you. You can tell it’s more expensive than any sleepwear you’ve ever owned in your life. You’re just glad that it’s modest—you had half expected to find that all your pajamas were bustiers, thongs, and thigh highs in some sort of ill considered attempt to seduce you. But this is elegant and understated, with a matching robe that you cinch tightly around your waist.

You sit on the couch, the throw still wrapped snugly around you. He looks at you, the corner of his mouth curled up in a slight smirk.

“I hope you don’t intend to stay there the entire night,” he says.

“I hardly know you,” you say before you can even contemplate whether it’s wise.

He looks…amused isn’t quite the right word, but there’s a subtle tilt to the corner of his lips—not quite a smile, but maybe somewhere in the vicinity.

“Give it time,” he says, and something about that makes you shiver.

*

You intend to sleep on the couch, at least for these first few nights when everything still feels so raw and strange.

Or that was your plan, anyway.

Loki doesn’t say anything else as he prepares for bed and you stare resolutely at the window so as not to invite any more conversation or prompt any invitations to join him in bed. Eventually, the lights go out and you are left alone with your thoughts in the dark.

The room is much colder at night.

You’re not sure if it’s on purpose, though you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Perhaps he likes it like this. Perhaps it’s to lure you to him, to tempt you into seeking out the warmth of his bed and body.

You pull the blanket more tightly around your shoulders. Eventually, you allow your eyes to drift shut.

You wake some time later in the middle of the night. The room feels even colder, the velvet of the throw and the silk of your nightgown and robe a scanty defense against the chill. You burrow against the couch cushions and it’s sort of bearable.

But you also have to pee.

You hold off for as long as you can, but you eventually summon the will to leave the couch and seek out the bathroom.

The bathroom is even colder—perhaps it’s all that glass and marble that makes the difference. You’re wearing your robe and you’ve still got the blanket wrapped around you, but your teeth are chattering by the time you wash your hands. You run the water as hot as you can stand, but it only does so much. If you were braver—if it wasn’t your first night here, you would run an extra hot shower and stay under the spray until your fingers and toes pruned and the chill was chased from your bones.

Instead, you hustle back to the couch, burrowing against the cushions, throw and robe wrapped tightly around you. But you still can’t seem to shake the cold. You huddle on the couch, shivering, trying to calm your body.

Time passes and you don’t grow any warmer. You wonder if you can steal another throw from the bed—surely he won’t miss one—when a voice speaks from the darkness.

“Come to bed,” Loki says.

You clear your throat. “What?”

“I can hear your teeth chattering from here. Come to bed and stop being absurd.”

You hesitate, staring into the dark. You consider the cold, the slight kink in your neck from the way you’ve been sleeping on the couch, the late hour, the way that sleep pulls at your eyes. A bed is appealing. Maybe more appealing than it should be.

You find yourself getting to your feet and slowly making your way across the room.

You pause on the other side of the bed—your side, you suppose, though calling it that still feels too intimate. You can just make him out in the dark.

“You’ll stay on your side,” you say, like making it a statement will make it so.

“Well, you hardly know me.” His voice is clipped, more bitter than you expect as he echoes your words from earlier.

You can’t help but scowl. “I’ve known you for less than twenty-four hours and it’s the middle of the night. I’m not doing this right now.”

He laughs. It’s sharp and brittle and unexpected, but it’s a laugh all the same, and something about that helps, if only a little.

You don’t say anything else as you climb into bed. You find that the blankets are warm—warmer than you expect—and heavy. There’s a part of you that expects yourself to be too nervous and on edge to fully relax, but the coziness of the blankets piled around you is oddly calming, even with Loki mere inches away. You hunker down underneath the blankets, situating yourself on the pillows.

He doesn’t say anything and it’s not long until his breathing becomes steady and even.

And after a while, yours does, too.

*

Consciousness creeps up on you slowly the next morning, a far cry from the jarring alarm on your phone that usually disrupts your slumber. You are warm and cozy, cocooned in the blankets, safe from all of the bullshit that had happened yesterday.

It’s such a peaceful, easy awakening that it takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t alone.

It takes another moment for you to realize that your cheek is pressed against Loki’s chest. And to make matters worse, not only are your arms wrapped around his him, your right leg is also flung across his waist, like you can’t bear to be parted from him for even a moment.

But before the panic sets in, there is a barely perceptible moment where your body just enjoys the feeling of being pressed against him. It’s quick and you’d deny it if asked, but the rush that you get from giving into the pull of your soulbond for even that brief moment is nothing short of incredible.

But it’s just a moment and your mind quickly turns to the matter of extracting yourself without drawing his notice. Ideally, he’ll just stay asleep and you won’t have to deal with any awkward fallout. If you move very slowly and carefully, perhaps he won’t notice.

You carefully start to move your leg from his waist.

“To be clear, you’re on my side of the bed,” he says.

God fucking dammit.

You abandon all subtlety and quickly peel yourself away from him.

“I must have rolled over in my sleep,” you say, incredibly conscious of how stupid that sounds.

He smirks, which is somehow worse than if he’d said anything.

“It won’t happen again,” you say.

It does.

This is your new routine: you start every evening on the couch, wrapped up in your robe and throw. You wake some time in the night, teeth chattering. Sometimes, Loki will tell you to come to bed. Other times, you quietly give up and slip under the covers on your side of the bed.

But every morning without fail, you wake tangled around him.

Sometimes, he’s spooned up behind you; more often, though, you’re the one clinging to him. It’s as though your body has a homing device that leads you over to his side of the bed in your sleep, dutifully ignoring all of your stern warnings about who stays where.

The worst part of it is that you’re fighting your own instincts. On a very basic, physical level, you yearn to be close to him. There’s a part of you that revels in these unintentional moments of closeness, that wants to allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of him, to allow him to put his hands on your body, for you to put your hands on him.

The fact that he wakes up noticeably hard most mornings does not make this any easier.

This is a problem that you’re not entirely sure how to solve and the second week in, your desire for information finally outweighs your desire to avoid social media and the deluge of emails and texts that you know are waiting for you on your phone.

You turn your phone back on and immediately delete all of your social media apps. You don’t know what they’re saying about you and you don’t care to. You turn off all of your notifications, even the little number icons that show you how many unread emails and texts that you have. You want absolutely no distractions.

You open a private browser window and pull up Google.

Newly connected soulbonds are the hormonal equivalent of pouring out a bunch of gasoline and striking a match. Soulbonds are intended to be consummated. You know this. There are people who wait it out for one reason or another, but that’s very much the exception—it’s a physical and emotional test of endurance. And you’re beginning to understand why.

The internet is not very helpful. You already know what happens when you don’t consummate a soulbond promptly—increased arousal, restlessness, vivid dreams, and so on as time goes on. You’re more interested in mitigation. You find a few blogs that have entirely irrelevant suggestions like cuddling on the couch or holding hands. “While you’re waiting for intercourse, why not try some outercourse?” one post muses with a level of earnestness that causes you to immediately turn off your phone and fling it across the room.

You’re going to have sex with him at some point. That’s inevitable. On a very basic level, you want him—it’s more or less coded into your DNA. But that is at odds with the reality of who he is and what he’s done. It might feel good to wake up tangled around him, but it only takes a minute to remember the battle of New York and it nearly extinguishes the desire burning within you.

But only nearly and only for now.

*

The third week is when things start getting increasingly difficult.

Loki seems content to wait things out. You can feel the burn of his gaze on you, but he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod.

You, on the other hand, find yourself slipping into a heightened state of arousal that is becoming impossible to ignore. Midway through the week, you finally give in and try touching yourself in the shower in the hope of some relief and you come so quickly and so hard that you have to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out and your legs very nearly buckle from the force of it. A few twitches of your fingers has you sprawled on the shower floor and coming again, harder than before. You repeat this trick a few times but even as strong as it is, it doesn’t really help—you’re back to where you started within minutes.

Worse though, is the fact that it’s his face that you see when you come. Every. Single. Time. You imagine him over you, his gaze dark and intent as he watches you come; slack jawed and hissing in pleasure as he pushes into you; growling in approval and impatience as you take his cock into your mouth. The images come entirely unbidden and stick in the forefront of your thoughts like a burr clinging to wool.

When you see him later that afternoon, his gaze lands on you in such a way that it feels like he knows everything you’ve done and everything you’ve seen, from that moment in the shower to the shameful thoughts you had as you came.

The dreams start shortly after, and they are objectively worse.

The dreams are far more vivid than just images. In the dreams, he’s touching you, coaxing you to peaks you could never have imagined, pressing into you, taking you hard and fast and achingly slow and everything in between. The dreams leave you out of breath and shaky, aching for a touch that you know that you should not want, but do with every fiber of your being. By some miracle, they only seem to occur while you are on the couch and not when you’re in bed, but that luck won’t hold forever.

Perhaps more importantly, you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. Deep down, you’ve known this from the moment the mark on your wrist started to burn. Your resistance is eroding like a sandcastle at high tide and it’s only a matter of time before you crumble.

But not yet. Not yet.

*

Five weeks after your arrival, you wake sweating and out of breath from another dream.

You take a few deep breaths. It was similar to the ones you’d had before. Thinking about the details makes your core ache and your clit throb so you try to keep them out of your mind.

You’re half surprised that you’re not tangled around Loki, given the content and subject of your dream, but that makes sense when you realize he’s not in bed. Instead, he sits on the couch, staring into the middle distance. Perhaps he is struggling with the same kinds of dreams.

The idea of you making Loki too hot and bothered to sleep is more appealing than you’d like to admit. You hastily dismiss the thought before it can bring any more heat to your already too warm skin or add more fuel to the flickering desire that seems to have settled permanently in the cradle of your hips.

You slip out of bed and go to the window, folding your arms across your stomach as you stare out at the sleeping city.

“You were calling out in your sleep.”

More heat prickles at your skin.

“Hm,” you say, trying your best to sound casual.

“What were you dreaming of?” he asks.

He’s only asking because he already knows the answer. You know this. But the lie still slips from your lips: “I don’t remember.”

He laughs, a quiet and dangerous sound that stokes the fire in your belly. “Have you forgotten, darling, that I am the god of lies?”

You can hear him walking toward you, but you keep your back turned. Has the room always been this warm?

He waits until he is directly behind you to speak again. “Will you lie again when I ask if you were dreaming of me?” His voice is so close, full of depth and a little husky. 

“You flatter yourself,” you say.

You can hear the smirk in his voice, feel the whisper of his breath on your neck. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” He pauses for a moment. “But you were calling out for me.”

Your lips are dry. You want to deny it, but it feels useless. Worst case scenario, he’s still mostly right: you were dreaming of him and you can’t even really deny crying out for him because you were asleep and you don’t know for sure.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he continues. His voice drops. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He pauses. “Or I see myself between your legs, worshiping you with my mouth, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart is pounding and every nerve in your body feels as though it’s connected directly to your clit. You are warm—too warm—and you can feel your pulse pounding in your throat.

“What were you dreaming of?” he continues, his voice barely a murmur.

“Nothing,” you say.

He clicks his tongue. “Try again, darling.”

You say nothing and after a moment of silence, he seems to decide that it’s time to switch strategies.

“You must be so wet,” he murmurs, his tone low and soothing.

Your stomach and your cunt clench. If he starts talking dirty to you, it’s over.

“We’re not meant to go this long like this,” he says. “We both know that. It’s been five weeks. Your poor cunt is probably aching for me, just as I ache for you.”

Your breath is coming in shaky gasps. You need him. You can feel your resolve starting to slip.

“Yield to me.” His voice is rough with wanting, like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, darling, let me ease that ache. Yield and I will give you everything.”

You draw in a shaking breath and slowly turn to face him. He’s looking at you with an intensity that you expect, but it takes your breath away nonetheless.

The remnants of your resistance are lost to the wave of him and the only thing that’s left in its place is a raw need like you’ve never experienced before.

You don’t know what to say, so in the end, you settle for his name. Just his name, said quietly with all the desperation and longing that has been making your life hell these past few weeks.

You get a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before he’s on you.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of each other for too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. You end up pressed against the wall next to the window, your leg wrapped around his waist, his hand supporting your thigh. He presses his hips against you and you moan into his mouth at the feeling of his hard cock dragging against your swollen, sensitive clit. He draws back slightly to look at your face as he slowly grinds his hips against yours, his free hand moving to palm your breast over the silk of your nightgown.

You moan again, your head dropping back against the wall. The soft, slippery friction of the silk of your nightgown against your nipple and the soaked lace of your underwear rubbing against your clit is enough to make you go cross eyed, a slow tease that only fans the burning embers within you. Your body is overheated and too tense, but Loki is blessedly cool in a way that somehow both soothes and inflames.

“You’re drenched. I can already feel that,” he says, his voice thick with desire as he moves against you. “I could make you come like this.”

You whimper, rocking your hips back against him. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “Another time. Tonight I want to feel you when you come.” He drops his hand from your breast, trailing down your stomach and moving in between your legs. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, and you let out a needy whine as he strokes the slick folds of your sex. “Is this all for me?” he asks, his voice slipping into a low growl.

You barely manage a breathy affirmative.

“Sweet thing.” His thumb rolls over your clit as he slides one finger into you, and your back arches automatically, your breasts jutting out. “We’re going to have to do something about this, aren’t we?”

“Please,” you breathe.

“How can I resist such a sweet plea?” he says, sliding another finger into you and curling it just so. “Or such a wet and needy cunt?”

“Don’t stop,” you say.

“I ought to make you beg me for it after everything you put me through.” His eyes darken as his thumb presses against your clit and you moan. “But perhaps I can be generous. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod, slack jawed and panting.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper, your hips rocking.

“Say it,” he says, stroking your clit.

“I need to come,” you moan.

“A good start,” he says, his voice a stern purr. “But not quite what I asked, my love. Try again.”

A twinge of irritation manages to work its way to the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly in a state to be playing twenty questions.”

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam that heralds the arrival of something that you know will end enjoyably for you.

“Oh, darling, that attitude won’t do at all.” His fingers are immediately and conspicuously absent and you very nearly cry out in frustration. But before you can, he is sweeping you into his arms and making the journey to the bed in several long strides. He sets you gently on the bed and looms over you, green eyes flashing as his hands stroke up your thighs. You lift your hips and he pulls your underwear off, tossing it to the side.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” His voice is a growl. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need to come.” You know it’s the wrong answer, but this particular game of cat and mouse and the predatory gleam in Loki’s eyes are making you even wetter and god, you need him.

His eyes flash with a barely concealed delight. “Try again.”

You spread your legs rather conspicuously, hiking your nightgown up to your waist. “I need to come.”

He’s looking at you intently, lips slightly parted. “You’re trying to distract me with that pretty cunt, you wicked thing.”

“Is it working?” you ask.

He lowers his head to kiss the inside of your left knee. “It would work much better if you answered me properly and told me everything you need.”

You think you have an idea of what he wants to hear, but you’re not quite ready to give up the game yet. Instead, you pull your nightgown up and over your head and toss it to the side. His eyes are dark as he looks at you, his gaze lingering on your breasts and trailing down to the apex of your spread legs. You wonder what it would take to make him lose control, to take you in the way that you both need.The thought sends another flood of heat to your aching core. 

You lick your lips. “Will you make me come, Loki?”

Another wolfish grin. “Closer. But not quite. Try again.”

You let your hand slide down your stomach and between your legs and you part your sopping folds so he can see the full extent of what he’s done to you—every dripping inch. The look he’s giving you now only heightens the feeling.

“Should I make myself come?” you ask and you’re immediately rewarded with an almost feral look and a sharp smack to your ass.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls.

You put on your most innocent expression, even as his visible hunger makes you ache. “I thought you’d like seeing me touch myself.”

“Oh, there will be time for that later,” he says, his eyes still dark. “I’m particularly interested in seeing what prompted those intriguing little noises I kept hearing while you were in the shower. But every tremor of pleasure that wracks your body tonight will be from me alone. Now,” his eyes glitter and his hand replaces yours on your cunt, his long fingers spreading you open, but not touching you, his expression rapt with undisguised greed, “tell me what you need.”

Your capacity to tease and resist him was well and truly exceeded when he smacked your ass and was further obliterated by the monologue he just delivered. “I need you to make me come, Loki. I need you so bad.”

His smile is filled with dark promises and a hunger that you have every interest in sating several times over.

“Good girl,” he says.

And his fingers slide back into you as his mouth envelopes your aching clit.

You moan as your hips lift and your hands tangle in his hair. He mumbles something that sounds like “perfect” against your clit, first teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers have found that soft, aching spot inside of you and he presses against it in slow, firm thrusts that make you tremble.

You initially think that you’ll be quite quick to come because you’re already so wound up, but Loki seems determined to find the edge and keep you there for as long as possible—and he’s really, really good at it. He falls into a rhythm where his tongue strokes your clit once, twice, three times and withdraws; his fingers pick up the thread, stroking your walls once, twice, three times and withdrawing, only for his tongue to resume where he left off. In this way, he keeps you balanced on the edge in a perfect kind of torture. It feels so good, but it’s not quite enough to get you there just yet.

You make liberal use of his name—it’s a plea, a curse, a benediction, a moan, a sigh. Instinctively, you know that he likes this, but it’s not enough to distract him into letting you fall even a moment before he wants you to.

The ache that’s been building in your hips for the last couple weeks is growing, burning bright and warm. Your body feels electric in the best way, your nerves humming and buzzing and straining for release.

“Loki,” you moan, partly as encouragement and partly because you want him so badly.

You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release.

So close.

“Loki, please,” you moan, truly desperate now. “Please let me come. Make me yours—”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or pure coincidence, but in that moment, he shifts his rhythm so that his mouth and fingers are no longer alternating, but are instead moving in sync. And this is what you need to tip you over, to allow that wave to finally, finally crest and then break.

Your orgasm hits you hard, pulling a loud moan from deep within your chest and making your entire body quake. Sparklers are dancing along your veins, champagne bubbles fizzing along your muscles, stars bursting behind your eyes. You have never felt anything like this before—you are satisfied but also aching for more, falling apart and being remade over and over again.

It’s only when you’re decidedly in the blissful wave of the aftershocks that he dares to lift his head and he looks you over like you’re something wonderful. Before you can raise your hands to reach for him, he’s crawling up to you, claiming your mouth in a kiss that feels deeper than the ocean.

He slides his hand in between your legs and you whimper, shivering at the sensation of his thumb stroking your sensitive clit. But somehow, he finds that particular angle and pressure that’s just enough, but not too much. You moan and he slides a finger back into you, rolling in the same rhythm as his thumb on your clit.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Keep going for me, darling. I want to watch you come this time.” His voice is so firm and authoritative and it strikes sparks up and down your spine.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your hips rocking with his hand.

“You’re doing so well getting ready for me,” he purrs. He lowers his voice to a rough growl. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over my cock like the wicked, filthy girl that you are.”

It’s the combination of his words and his voice and his perfect hands that does it this time. A rolling, fluttering shudder fizzes through your body, building to a peak that has you letting out a guttural moan as you clench around his thrusting fingers.

“Yes, that’s it,” Loki says as he watches you through hooded eyes. “You are gorgeous when you come undone.”

He kisses you slowly, fingers moving steadily until the final shudder rolls through you.

Somehow, through all of this, he’s remained fully clothed. There’s an aspect to this that’s appealing—it makes everything feel particularly decadent and a little forbidden—but your palms are practically itching with your need to touch him. You need him inside you, but you also need him close, bare skin on bare skin.

Your hands sneak under his shirt and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel the heat of his skin underneath your palms. You tug his shirt off him and make quick work of his pants before drawing back to look at him.

He looks like art. It’s a silly thought, but there’s some truth to it—there’s an almost ethereal quality in the sharp angles of his face and the elegant symmetry of his musculature. 

Your gaze drifts down to his cock. He’s long, thick, and hard, the tip flushed and slick with pre-come. An ache courses through you—something about seeing the full evidence of his arousal makes everything seem more real, makes you want him with renewed ferocity.

You want to touch him and so you do, your fingers curling around his shaft.

“Can you feel how much I need you?” he asks as you stroke him slowly. He is remarkably composed, though you catch the slight hitch in his breath and it sends a thrill through you.

“Will you show me?” you ask.

“Every day,” he says.

It’s an answer you’re not expecting. You were speaking strictly in the immediate, physical sense. This feels deeper, more meaningful. You’re not quite sure what to say, so you kiss him and he kisses you back with an intensity and thoroughness that makes your toes curl.

He rolls over you, his body covering yours. It’s almost overwhelming how good his bare skin feels against yours. You take his cock in your hand again and stroke him, slowly rubbing the tip from your clit to your entrance, coating him in your slick.

You expect him to just push forward when you guide him to your entrance and you’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t—you’ve both waited so long for this and your need for him is burning inside you like an inferno.

But instead he pauses, his eyes locked with yours.

“Will you have me?” he asks. There’s vulnerability in the question, a softness in his green eyes that you don’t expect. It feels like a loaded question, though not necessarily in a bad way.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathe.

Something like relief flashes briefly in his eyes before he leans in and kisses you. You tilt your hips up again and this time, you feel the blunt head of his cock slowly press into your waiting warmth.

You’d read people describing first times with their soulmates and it had always sounded so hyperbolic and silly. They’d throw around words like euphoric and transcendent and all you could do was try not to roll your eyes.

But the moment Loki is fully seated inside you, you finally get it. Every overwrought, overused cliché seems to occur to you all at once—puzzle pieces falling into place and locks and keys and halves made whole and all that bullshit—and it all makes sense in a way that it hadn’t before.

Loki’s eyes are stormy above you, to the point that you think you may have angered him, but then he kisses you with a ferocity and possessiveness that steals your breath and makes you tighten around him.

“Mine,” he growls against your lips. “Mine.”

There’s a lot of emotion in that word. There’s history in that word. It’s the sort of thing that the two of you will probably need to unpack later. For now, though, you wrap your legs around him and meet his demanding, hungry kisses with your own.

“I’m yours,” you murmur against his lips. “Take me.”

You expect him to respond to that plea with a frantic pace. But instead, his first thrusts are slow, like he’s savoring it. Your body yields to him instinctively, your muscles drawing him in and then tightening further as he withdraws. You are so slick, so ready for him that it almost feels a little obscene.

“You are exquisite,” he rasps as he sinks into you, his head bowing to kiss and nip at your neck. “I have been aching for you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re asking for—more of this, more of him—but he seems to know anyway. He kisses you deeply as you wrap your legs around his waist, rolling your hips up to meet his.

In one fluid motion, he rolls you over so that you are on top. He looks up at you, an irrepressible smirk curling at the corners of his lips.

“Go on,” he says, his voice low. “I want to see you take your pleasure from me. Claim your throne, my love.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. This is a man who single-handedly conquered the entire planet and he’s telling you he wants you to ride his cock until you come. It is raw and sexy and undeniably hot and the way he’s looking up at you makes you feel beautiful and powerful.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on the mattress, tilting your pelvis until you find the right angle, the one that makes your stomach tighten and your breath stutter. 

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Right there?”

You let out a shaky breath and rock your hips. “Yeah.”

It takes a moment for you to find your rhythm, but you find that you want—or perhaps need—to go slow and steady. Loki watches you, his hips rocking with yours as he lets you set the pace, his hands sliding from your hips to your breasts and back again, like he can’t get enough. His gaze is intent and intense and you get the sense that he’s cataloging every movement, every gasp or sigh, furrowed brow or bitten lip.

The coil in your hips is starting to wind tighter and you know it won’t be long. 

As though he knows, Loki slides a hand down your body, palm gently pressing against your lower stomach. A fantastic pressure begins to blossom in your hips and you whimper.

“You’re doing so well,” he purrs. “So tight and wet. You’re perfect.”

“Getting close,” you breathe.

“I know, I can feel you,” he says.

You’re at a point somewhere beyond words, riding that wave, chasing bliss that you can almost feel. A choked whimper falls from your lips.

“That’s it,” rasps Loki. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.” He flicks his thumb against your clit and you completely unravel.

It was good the first two times, but having him inside you as you come sends you to another plane of existence entirely. Your orgasm seems extended, the feeling of his cock against the spasming muscles of your cunt creating more even rippling pleasure. And the noise that he makes, the filthy praise that falls from his lips, the way that his fingertips dig into your hips just makes it all better.

He rolls you over onto your back just as you’re starting to feel boneless, and pulls you into a deep kiss.  He thrusts into you, a little faster than the pace you had set, but still slow and steady.

“I want to feel you come again,” he breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this, how good you feel?”

You shudder as his cock drags again against that spot inside you. He repeats the motion and you keen, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“That’s it,” he rasps, bringing your leg up over his hip to press even more deeply inside of you. “Come on, darling. Let me feel you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his hungry, demanding kiss with your own. You roll your hips with his, chasing the flickers of bliss that he’s steadily stoking to an inferno once more.

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Need you. Please.”

He groans and increases his pace just enough to make you whimper. The desire inside of you is catching fire.

“I…fuck, I—” Your hands are gripping his shoulders, your body shaking as you approach your end.

Loki’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. You can tell that he’s close, that he’s chasing the same incredible feeling that you are.

“I want you to come for me,” he grits out. “And the second I feel your tight cunt start to tremble around me, I’m going to come inside you.

You moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. You are unbearably close.

“Do you want that, darling?” he says. “Do you want me to come inside you? Do you want your perfect cunt filled with my seed?”

You are almost beyond words, but not quite: “Yes. Please.”

Despite how close he is, he still gives the impression of being entirely in control. He lowers his head so that his lips graze yours and his eyes are all that you can see. “Then come for me,” he says.

Two more deadly smooth rolls of his hips and you do. A guttural, plaintive sound falls from your lips as your whole body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your cunt squeezing around the girth of his cock. He groans, mumbling something in a language you don’t recognize before he, too, starts to unravel.

His face is rapturous when he comes, his head tipping back and his mouth falling open, brow furrowing. If you weren’t so distracted with the rippling shocks of your own pleasure, you would try to commit it to memory. Instead, you simply try to enjoy the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you, the stuttering thrust of his hips, the soft groan that falls from his lips. Finally he stills, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his heart pounding against yours.

You feel…it’s not different, exactly, but there’s a kind of ease and connection that just feels right. The restless ache inside of you is finally quiet and you feel loose and languid and pleasantly sleepy.

Finding your soulmate isn’t necessarily the same as falling in love. Sometimes it all happens in the moment. Sometimes it’s years in between.

For you, though, you can pinpoint the exact moment that seed was planted: Loki raising his head to look at you, his hand curled against your cheek. His gaze is careful, reverent, like you are as warm and golden as the dawn just barely beginning to streak the morning sky.

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑

w.c › 11k

warnings › This is an OC. Reader’s last name is Lee. Internalized homophobia from reader. Religious guilt 10x. Thanks @sauvhffp for that Drabble, I borrowed an idea you presented in it. I don’t hate religious people pls don’t think that.

plot › You’re a cog in the machine that is capitalism, wondering if the days are worth it. When you meet a certain man that will make you wish for your mundane life again.

kinks › humping, handjobs, praise, lite pet play, degradation

words to know › Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male. Seonbae (선배) — term for someone in a higher position, can be work/school. Yeobo (여보) — “darling/honey” only married couples use this term. Gangaji (강아지) — puppy. Eonni (언니) — term a younger girl will call an older girl.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭

두통

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

다가와. 다가와, 자기야.

“Are you that scared of me? Or… are you scared of what this means for you? What you’re hiding deep inside.”

내가 너를 유혹하니?

“When you kneel for your God, do you think of when you kneeled for me?”

너무 순종적이잖아. 맛보고 싶지 않아?

“Kneeling for me in the same room your mother kneeled for Christ.”

그만해? 왜? 나는 진실만 말해.

“You can’t forget me, Lee (Name). Even with my body rotting right outside your door. You’ll find another me.”

“And he’ll break you; showing you true temptation.”

“Yah! Lee (Name)! Wake up!”

You gasped, sitting up. A paper was stuck to your cheek from your drool as you rubbed at your eyes, trying to fight the sleep that was threatening to seep back in. Another slam at your desk caused you to shriek as you glanced over at who was causing the commotion.

It wasn’t your boss, thankfully. But it was still a higher up, Park Minhee.

“Lee (Name), have you completed the paper I sent you this morning? You seem to be comfortably napping during work hours.” She said, raising an eyebrow. Her back straightened as she looked down at you like you were a little kid, not another adult that was only four years younger than her.

“Yes, Miss Park. I did finish it, I sent it straight to the boss.” You quickly answered, pulling off the paper stuck to your cheek. Minhee stared at you for a moment before letting out a humph.

She turned her attention to your colleagues who were watching the exchange. “Don’t follow in Lee (Name)’s footsteps, you hear? When you finish your work early, you will gladly get up and come ask me for more work. Do you understand?”

It took a moment before everyone reluctantly agreed. Minhee smiled, pushing up her circular glasses as she walked off, her heels clicking against the recently polished ground.

Your body felt limp once she was finally out of earshot. You could hear murmuring from your coworkers, a few a bit snarky about Minhee’s attitude being your fault.

“You okay, Seonbae?”

You glanced over to see Kim Eunha. Eunha was recently hired after being an intern for almost two years. It was pure luck she got the job here. Even for you, you were about to quit as an intern before you finally got the job.

Eunha was sweet. One of the only people you actually liked at your job.

“I’m okay. I just haven’t been sleeping well.” You muttered, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

“Oh! Here.” Eunha moved to grab something off her desk before handing it over to you. It was a glasses cleaner. You thanked her, taking off your glasses as you cleaned the marks off them.

Eunha hummed for a moment before grinning nervously. “Uhm, Seonbae. I was wondering if you were coming to the party Friday night.”

“Party?”

“Mhm. It’s being held for Kang Taeyeon’s birthday. She invited the whole department.”

“I don’t think I want to go. No one here besides you likes me.”

“Please?” Eunha frowned, sighing slightly. “You never come to the dinners or parties we hold. It might help bridge the gap if you attend them.”

You knew she was technically right. With you continuously pushing yourself away from your coworkers, the gap was wide.

But you didn’t necessarily feel like bridging it. There was no way you wanted to get close to people.

“I’ll think about it.” It was only Monday. You had four days to think about it. Eunha beamed at your words and eagerly went back to her assignment.

Like you’d actually want to go.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Your family was relatively agonistic when you were growing up. Mom and Dad didn’t care too much about religion to raise you under it with your elder sisters. While your mother’s family were strict Christian conservatives, your father’s family was practically the opposite.

Though you couldn’t necessarily call him your father these days, could you?

It wasn’t until your tenth birthday that something cracked in your family. The once happy family of five soured.

And it was all your fault. That’s what your father screamed every day and night as he cried into a beer bottle.

Your mother was unfaithful.

Unfaithful for so long that your sisters were technically your half sisters.

After that, your mother and father didn’t divorce for some odd reason. Mom began to wallow in self pity about her actions and turned to God. Her once flip-floppy faith turned solid. Anything to make her feel good about herself.

Your father took his anger out on you.

The eldest sister, having reached the age of twenty, was embarrassed by her family’s history. More so that she dared to happily love an affair baby. She hardly talks to you as if you asked to be born from a man your mother fucked on the side.

Everyday from then on, you were dragged to church each Sunday with your mother’s family. They practically beamed at having you at arms reach. Your weak mind took in all of the prayers and sermons to heart, hoping that maybe, just maybe, your family will come back.

Your family would come back once you repented your sins.

Sins…?

Ten year old Lee (Name) was sinful.

Your therapist had laughed when you said that.

You haven’t gone back to see him in over a year. So sensitive you were. The mere thought of everything that you learned being wrong made you feel sick.

“(Name), you made it. Your sisters are already here.”

Your feet always hesitated before you walked into your parents’ house. It was like your body was trying to protect you but you would always ignore it. Your mother rushed you inside as you slipped off your shoes, following after her.

“Afternoon.” Your eldest sister, Yerin, didn’t attempt to look up from her phone.

“Hi, how was your day?” Your second eldest sister, Yena, asked. Yena was staring at you as she picked up her bag from the chair next to her so you could join her at the dining table.

You gave Yena a smile. “It was okay. How was yours?”

“Great! The kids are calming down now that it’s been a month of school.” Yena smiled. She was a kindergarten teacher. Yerin was a lawyer. More meaningful compared to the plain office job you worked. You wished you liked your job as much as Yena did.

Your mother was fretting around as she placed down the dishes for dinner. You almost attempted to help her but stopped yourself, glancing down at your hands. Yena began talking about a “poop incident” at her school a week ago when Yerin finally looked up from her phone.

Yerin looked you right in the eye as she tilted her head. “You don’t visit often; what, found your real family?”

“Eonni!” Yena frowned, stopping her rambling to glare at Yerin.

You didn’t even attempt to say anything. This was to be expected with her. “Is he coming out for dinner tonight?”

“Why? You could talk to him yourself.” Yerin rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure why you don’t talk to him. He raised you, giving you shelter, food, water. The least you could do is act like a son to him. He’s getting stressed out at his job these days…”

You tuned her out. She wouldn’t understand. She had already left the home when your father turned on you. When your father didn’t hesitate to lock you in the closet until your voice was hoarse from screaming and Yena finally came home from her club.

Yerin was just like your mother. Pretending the way your father reacted was normal. Your mother was still oddly religious—fully believing that she had her sins forgiven by her lord and savior. She still dragged you to church every Sunday.

You were sure she was attempting to scout out a good Christian girl for you to marry now. So many of the older church ladies were stopping you after the sermon to introduce you to their daughters.

Your father didn’t come out for dinner.

Your mother kept saying he was just tired.

You weren’t a fucking idiot. That man still hated you for daring to be born and not dying in childbirth.

The food tasted bitter and cold. The cross on the wall of the dining room felt like a curse. Bible verses hanging right in your face. He was mocking you at this point. Why haven’t you been forgiven for your sins?

“How has work been? Have you gotten a promotion yet?” Your mother suddenly asked.

The kimchi in your mouth was so bitter that you almost throw up but you swallowed it down. “No. They wouldn’t give me a promotion so soon.”

Your mother’s eyes narrowed in on your face as her lips twitched. “You seem irritated. Have you been praying? Perhaps you should come to the nightly sermons I mentioned to you. Work must be stressing you out.”

You glanced over at Yena. “Do you go the sermons?”

Yena frowned, biting her lip. “Ah, no. I haven’t been going as often as I should.” She laughed nervously, rubbing at her arm. “But uhm, my husband isn’t exactly all that interested in religion.”

Yerin clinked her chopsticks against the bowl. “Why do you ask, (Name)? Trying to get out of your duty?”

Duty.

It was a fucking duty.

Yerin and Yena weren’t forced by your mom to go to church. But you were. You were dragged there by your arms even if you kicked and scream.

Your father had always told you that he’d never force a religion onto you. Though it was an empty lie, huh?

Deep down, you had a feeling it wasn’t just being an affair baby anymore. Your parents, even sisters, assumed something about you that made you anxious.

Why haven’t you been interested in girls like any other boy?

You were normal. You were fucking normal and you weren’t whatever your family was thinking. The sin of being born to an adulator was already on your record being a ‘homosexual’ of all things was practically a death sentence.

It was normal to not go crazy over any girl just because she was ‘pretty’ in the eyes of the church. You had standards.

“No,” you muttered, staring at the bowl of kimchi. Kimchi and rice. You’ve always eaten this. Always eaten it without a care in the world.

Your throat burned as you vomited on the dining table.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Seonbae, is this right?”

You glanced over at Eunha, checking the paper she was going over. “The number here is wrong. You subtracted instead of adding.”

“Ah! Thanks, Seonbae.”

It was Friday evening, your shift almost over in an hour. Eunha was still in the belief that you were coming to the birthday party. You didn’t know if you could turn her down. You’ve recently started going to the night sermons your mother was talking about.

They were bothering you—affecting your sleep. You would always come home with this weird ache in your chest that you couldn’t get rid of.

The hour felt long before it was finally over. It was bustling as people immediately got ready to go home for the weekend. You glanced over at the clock, trying to think of a way to excuse yourself when a hand patted you on the back.

“You coming, Lee (Name)? We’re heading to the restaurant!” It was one of your older coworkers, Park Woohyun. The ‘heartthrob’ of the financial department of the company. You understood why. He was handsome.

A few people often asked if he was related to Lee Dong-Wook.

You frowned, “ah, uhm, I’m not sure…”

Woohyun hummed. “What do you mean? I doubt you have anything better to do.”

Your jaw tightened as you heard a few chuckles. Anything better to do. Yeah, he was right. At most you were going to attend the sermon again. But to be told that out loud with the sounds of laughter following was humiliating.

Why did it seem like everyone hated you?

Were they right?

Does your sinful past follow you everywhere that people subconsciously feel it?

“Okay.” You suddenly said, a tight smile on your lips. “I’ll come.”

Besides, you needed to drink.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Is… this okay?”

His lips pressed against yours before pulling away. The cool air from the opened window eases into the bedroom. It caused your body to shiver as he let out a laugh.

“No. It’ll never be okay. Not if you want to stay a perfect church boy.”

“Then don’t kiss me again..! I can’t do anything else to make Him angry.”

“Don’t kiss you again?”

Hands gripped your shirt, pulling you close against his chest. Nose touching as his gaze bore into yours. His eyes looked blank as he leaned down, his lips teasing yours.

“Is that what you really want, Lee (Name)?”

You can’t remember if you ever responded to his question. The aftermath is all you can remember. He grabbed his backpack and went outside. You watched him get on his bike, the moonlight shining down on him.

There was something he said before biking away. It was hazy in your mind now but the essence was still there.

No matter how much you tried—you’ll never make your family happy.

Then he biked away. You turned to get back inside your house when a crash was heard. Running. You ran not even a few feet to see him on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. A drunk, clumsy driver stepped out of her car as she began babbling something.

All you remember is that the last thing you told Kim Junhan before his death at the ripe age of sixteen was that you would never be a ‘homosexual’ like he was.

“𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙔 𝘽𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙃𝘿𝘼𝙔!”

The sounds of clapping caused you to jump up, glancing over to see your coworkers had brought out the cake for Kang Taeyeon. You paid them no mind, staring down at your drink. Whenever you drank too much, he would always seep back into your mind.

You downed the drink in ease before asking for another one from the bartender. She raised an eyebrow at you but complied anyway.

The memories of Kim Junhan always felt so bitter.

The bartender placed the drink down. You were about to thank her when she held out a tissue for you. She must’ve noticed your confusion when she just pointed at your face and waited for you to take the tissue.

You took it and began to tap your face. When you glanced at the tissue it was wet. Fuck. You quickly wiped at your face, hoping that you didn’t look overly pathetic. Crying in a restaurant while your coworkers were singing happy birthday.

What a joke.

After the embarrassment began sinking in even more, you drank four more shots until the bartender refused to give you anymore. You were disgruntled with her but knew she was just doing her job. So you gave her the bill and left the restaurant.

None of your coworkers noticed.

You shivered as the cool air immediately attacked you once outside. You were only dressed in a thin white button up and black slacks. Your hands shook as you quickly made sure to put on your suit jacket. Though it did nothing to make you feel warm.

Perhaps you were too drunk but you suddenly felt like crying.

It had been over ten years now since Junhan died. You briefly wondered what day it was. It must’ve been his anniversary of his death. Maybe that’s why. That’s all it is.

You kneeled down and couldn’t stop the sobbing as you curled into yourself. A drunk man crying on the wall of a restaurant.

How pathetic.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Moon Eunjae hated restaurants like this. Cheap and tacky. But more importantly, the rowdy group of corporate slaves that drank until they dropped. Looked like it was on their birthday.

He turned his attention back over to his plate of food, pushing it towards his friend. “Ugh. Eat it for me.”

His friend, Yoonchae, rolled her eyes. “What? Is the food too ‘cheap’ for your liking?” She asked, grabbing his plate and immediately digging in.

“Hey, if you paid for us, we wouldn’t drag you to cheap places,” his friend beside him, Rowoon, laughed. “Not everyone can afford a meal over 100,000 won.”

Eunjae hummed. “It’s just shit. Just because you’re poor doesn’t mean your food has to be shit.”

Rowoon laughed louder while Yoonchae snapped her chopsticks in half. A loud yell from the crowd caused Rowoon to sigh.

“Is this the only time they have fun? They’re so fucking loud.” He whined, shaking his head.

“It’s her birthday, cut them some slack.” Yoonchae muttered as she grabbed a new pair of chopsticks.

Eunjae didn’t say anything. He knew he wouldn’t understand how those corporate slaves would feel being free on weekends. Though he never attempted to understand. He was only twenty-one compared to the group of adults who looked closer to their mid thirties.

He rubbed at his face before standing up. “I’m taking a smoke break.”

“Hope you catch cancer.” Yoonchae said as he walked out of the building.

Eunjae yawned as he made it outside, the cool air hardly bothering him as he dressed in a thick jacket made with fluffy fur. He pulled out his lighter and pack of cigarettes, placing one between his lips as he easily lit it.

He stood there for a moment before hearing soft hiccuping. His eyes glanced to the right and he immediately looked away. Someone crying against the wall of a cheap restaurant that sells noodles that are obviously thirty years old.

Pathetic.

Oh well, he wouldn’t bother them.

His smoke break was needed as he hummed to himself. The calming wind breezed past him when he heard the stranger let out a particularly loud whimper. He was set on ignoring them again when they pulled their head out of their hands.

You were… pathetic.

So fucking pathetic.

But cute.

Like a puppy.

Round doe eyes wet with tears that’s stained your cheeks. Your body heaving as you took deep breathes from your heavy crying. Lips almost in a pout.

Who knew a man could be so cute?

Eunjae was ready to just leave you alone still despite his weird interest in you when your gaze turned over to him. Your body shivered as the wind picked up again. Doe puppy eyes bore into his as you sniffled, curling into yourself tighter to keep your body warm.

He didn’t know what to say. His cigarette was slipping out of his mouth as it parted in his shock.

Your eyes flickered to his face. He quickly wondered if you found him attractive. If you were feeling this odd need to be near him like he felt for you.

“I’m…” You whispered, he noticed your odd movements. Almost sluggish. Were you drunk? He waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Cold.” You lamely finished.

Eunjae didn’t know what exactly you thought he could do about that. But he didn’t say anything. You didn’t look like you’d listen to anything he would say right now. Right now he should be a ‘good’ citizen and get you home.

“What’s your address? You’ll freeze to death out here in such thin clothes.” He said, pulling out his phone to call a taxi.

You frowned, slowly standing up. Your body pressed against the wall as your eyes felt heavy. It was almost as cute as it was pathetic to watch you stumble over to him. Eunjae made no attempt to help you.

He enjoyed seeing you stumble.

Your hand gripped at his arm as you glanced at his phone. Your body felt so heavy that it felt as if you’d collapse if you let go of Eunjae.

“Address?” Eunjae asked again.

“Too far.” You whispered, subconsciously snuggling close to him. His jacket was so warm, so nice. Why couldn’t he share it with you?

“Too far? Come on, tell me where you live.”

“Incheon.”

“Incheon? You don’t live in Seoul?”

“Too expensive,” you whined, glaring at him. “It’s only an hour away… but trains closed.”

Eunjae checked the time. You were right, it was past midnight. No taxi was going to drive a full hour so late as well without some hefty cash. And you didn’t look like the type of be carrying such cash.

The door to the restaurant opened as a man and woman walked out. Eunjae watched them, noticing they must’ve been your coworkers. They looked worried almost scared as they frantically glanced around the street.

He wondered if they needed something until they glanced over at him. The pure anger on their face would’ve terrified him if he cared.

“What are you doing to my Seonbae?” The woman asked, glaring at Eunjae. She reached over and grabbed your hand, pulling you over. You didn’t attempt to stop her, releasing your grip on Eunjae’s jacket.

The man, a similar height to Eunjae almost looked like he was only one step away from punching him. “Were you trying to take him somewhere?”

Eunjae rolled his eyes. So much for helping. “I was trying to take him home. What is he your boyfriend?” He laughed, tilting his head.

“Woohyun Seonbae, let’s just get back inside, (Name) Seonbae is shivering.” The woman said, holding you close.

Woohyun glanced over at you. He only shook his head at Eunjae. “We’ll take him home.”

Eunjae shrugged. He didn’t care about you that much. But oddly enough, he couldn’t help but feel a bit… angry? Maybe it was the fact someone older than him was treating him like a predator.

Respect your elders or something like that.

He tugged at his jacket, holding it in his hands. The cool air immediately attacked him. No wonder you were shivering like a dog. He walked over to you, ignoring the woman’s glare at him.

“Here. Since you liked it so much.” Eunjae draped the jacket over your shoulders, helping you slip your arms in to properly wear it. Your doe eyes stared up at him as he zipped it up, a smirk on his lips. “Just return it to me, Gangaji.”

“Wait,” you called out. Eunjae glanced over at you just before he entered the restaurant. “How can I..? I don’t know your name..”

Eunjae grinned. “It’s in the jacket.”

He walked right back inside, joining Rowoon and Yoonchae. Rowoon hummed as he smirked.

“Where’s your jacket?” Rowoon asked.

“Gave it to someone.”

“You? Giving away your belongings?” Yoonchae laughed. “Why? Was she cute?”

“Very. He was as cute as a puppy.”

Yoonchae and Rowoon shared knowing looks at each other. Despite Eunjae’s ‘nonchalant’ behavior, they knew he must’ve been infatuated with this stranger to give up his favorite jacket.

They made a silent prayer for the poor soul.

Anyone Eunjae liked would often wish they never met him.

❝ 차츰 어둠이 드리울 테니 ❞

You awoke with a groan, feeling a comfortable bed beneath you. Your arms stretched out as felt considerably warm. A grunt left you as you sat up and took a look at your surroundings.

It was a nicer apartment. Your gaze flickered to the window. This was certainly Seoul. Incheon did have the busy streets as well but Seoul was considerably filled with people and cars rushing by.

As you got out of the bed, you noticed you had a large fluffy jacket on. You almost didn’t want to take it off. It was so warm and comfortable. But you pulled it off to see where you even got this.

Oh shit.

Dolce & Gabbana.

Your eyes read the name tag multiple times to see if you were imagining it.

Dolce & Gabbana!!!

Where did you get this?

You gently placed the coat that must’ve cost your rent on the bed and sprinted out of the bedroom. Just even where were you? The apartment was certainly nice but it didn’t look to be anything expensive. Quite small.

“Oh, Lee (Name) you’re awake!” A voice called out to you.

You glanced over to the kitchen to see Park Woohyun wearing an apron. Kim Eunha was right beside him holding a plate of pancakes. The two were smiling at you weirdly. Well, it was normal for Eunha to smile at you like that but you can’t ever remember Woohyun looking happy to see you.

“Do you have a hangover? I have some tablets in my bathroom cabinet.” Woohyun said, nodding towards the direction you came from. You did have a headache but didn’t want to leech on him anymore than you have.

“Uhm,” you whispered, walking over to them. “Did I sleep on your bed?”

Woohyun hummed. “You got my bedroom. Kim Eunha went back to her place but she came back to check on you. You slept in for a minute.”

Eunha hummed, smiling widely at you. “It’s 3 pm!”

Your eyes widen. “3 pm?! Why didn’t you wake me up?” You frowned.

“Why would I? You seemed like you needed the rest.”

“It’s okay, (Name) Seonbae. You had a crazy night, you needed all the rest you could get.” Eunha walked over to you, pushing you to sit down at the dinner table as she placed the plate of pancakes in front of you.

You muttered a quick thank you. “What do you mean? Did I do anything weird?”

Woohyun shrugged. “Define weird. You mean during the taxi ride here you cried that none of your coworkers liked you.” He took off his apron and walked over to you, sitting down beside you.

“I didn’t know you had that impression of me, Lee (Name).” Woohyun said, his face suddenly serious. “Have I been treating you terribly? Why haven’t you told me?”

Eunha sat down across from you, a frown on her lips. “Seonbae, I don’t know what gave you the impression we hated you but we don’t! We’re sorry we didn’t notice when you left the bar… If we were quicker that kid wouldn’t have been bothering you!”

You began to nibble on the pancakes when Woohyun gave you calculated look that was practically telling to eat or else. “What kid?” You muttered.

“The kid that gave you the jacket.” She said.

Your brain was a bit hazy. You couldn’t remember any kid that you spoke to. What kid was he to wear such a large jacket that it practically swallowed you whole? All you could really remember was what the kid called you.

강아지

You don’t know why he would call you a puppy, especially if he was younger than you. You do vaguely remember he didn’t speak respectfully with you.

Kids these days. You shook your head.

“I need to return the jacket then. Did he give his name?”

Woohyun shrugged. “He said it was written on the jacket. Check the name tag.” He leaned in close to you, causing you to flinch. His eyes narrowed in on you before he pulled away. “I think you suffer from low self-esteem, Lee (Name).”

Eunha coughed, her eyes wide. “Woohyun Seonbae! That’s not appropriate to say to someone randomly.”

“But it’s true.” Woohyun said, shaking his head. He was around fifty—probably uncaring about how to properly be a human at this point in life. “Only someone with low self-esteem would blindly believe everyone hates him. I joke with you but you seem to always take it as me punching you down.

“A normal person would tell the other that they don’t like the joke. However, you seem to think everyone else hates you as well. Kang Taeyeon invited you to the party for a reason. She was quite sad you stayed in the corner. It was party, you were supposed to mingle with everyone else.”

Eunha frowned. “Seonbae… This is a lot to spring up on someone with a hangover. Besides, it’s normal to not speak up in a work place setting. You’re our supervisor.”

“It’s not like I’ll fire you because you called me out.”

“Yeah well not every boss is as normal as you.”

You could only stare at Woohyun in shock. The audacity. The fucking audacity to bluntly tell you that you were suffering with low self worth.

It hurt. It really hurt.

Not just because he was your boss saying it.

But because he was right. Your therapist had said the exact same thing.

Were you that miserable that everyone could notice?

It was so fucking embarrassing. Why were you so embarrassing?

You didn’t even notice you were crying until your vision got blurry. Eunha began fussing obviously worried that Woohyun had hurt your feelings. And he did, he definitely did. You didn’t need this so early in the day, even if it was the afternoon.

A slight hiccup left you before you felt a hand pat you on the head. Your eyes glanced over to Woohyun. He looked a bit apologetic as he rubbed your head like you were ten years old.

“Sorry, Lee (Name). I hurt you again didn’t I?”

An apology? He really apologized.

Your lips quivered before you began to bawl. Woohyun and Eunha were shocked and quickly grabbed tissues as you wailed as if you were a baby.

Your dad was only ten years older than Woohyun.

Your dad never apologized like Park Woohyun.

To see someone close to your dad age, someone who could even be your father… To hear those words.

You needed to get back into therapy. You were a fucking mess.

Woohyun let you get cleaned up in his bathroom, telling you to just pull some clothes from his dresser. Eunha had given you a hug before you left. It was embarrassing to cry in front of a man who could be your father and a woman who was only two years younger than you. But it also felt liberating to see them care so much about you.

Did your coworkers… really not hate you like you assumed?

How many situations have you been in that you wrongly assumed the other hated you?

Maybe you… maybe you should make the effort to talk to people.

You shook your head. One step at a time. Your eyes flickered over to the jacket on the bed. You walked over and checked the tag again. Was there any other tag in it? It took a moment of you checking any space on the jacket before you came across a second tag that had the laundry instructions.

문은재

Moon Eunjae? A pretty name. You checked to see if there was any number. There was not. You checked the pockets until you pulled out a receipt. It looked to be from a delivery. The address and phone number was on it.

This must be his phone number. Hopefully.

You grabbed your phone, noticing a few texts from your mother. The familiar feeling of agony began to grow in your chest. You almost wanted to throw up the pancakes you ate.

Was it normal to hate being near your mother?

To even see a message from her and your world felt like it was crashing down.

She had sent multiple messages asking you where you were. Ah, there was another sermon yesterday. Looks like she was practically begging you to join the one for tonight. Why do churches even hold so many sermons everyday? Do people really enjoy that?

You checked the time. It was close to 5 pm now. No way would you make it in time for the 6 pm sermon. You didn’t respond and just decided to attend the usually Sunday Service at noon.

Your body instantly calmed when you decided that but you didn’t want to think any further on why church was so intense for you. You typed out the number on your phone and called it, hoping you could return the jacket tonight while still in the area.

It rang for a moment before it was answered.

“Who’s this?”

“Uhm, hello. Is this Mister Moon Eunjae..? You gave me your jacket last night.”

“Oh, Gangaji. You were able to remember me? Aren’t you a good boy?”

Your face flushed. What the fuck? You weren’t about to let someone younger than you talk down to you. “It’s Lee (Name). Anyway, I want to return your jacket while I’m still in Seoul. Where do you live?”

“Hm, you’re no fun.” He chuckled. “You got my number from the receipt, right? Go to the address.”

“What, but what time—?”

He hung up. That little…

You sighed. The address was in the direction of Incheon actually. So it wouldn’t be out of your way. You dressed in Woohyun’s clothes and put your dirty clothes in a plastic bag Eunha gave you.

It was awkward going back to the living room. Eunha had went back home before it got too dark. You were glad to not have to talk to her until Monday. But it was awkward seeing Woohyun.

Woohyun got up from the couch to let you out. You were set to rush out when he grasped your shoulder, turning you to face him. His face was blank before a slight smile pulled on his lips as he gave you comforting pat on the head.

“Get home safe. See you Monday.”

You definitely did not leave the apartment feeling happy, no you did not.

The address led you to a hotel. You at first thought maybe it was just a fancy apartment complex but the receptionist called it a hotel when you asked. It felt awkward just standing there in clothes a bit too big on your body.

Everyone that walked past was dressed to the nines. Expensive coats. Shining jewelry. It almost felt like a joke that you were even able to stand in the same area as them.

“Gangaji?”

You turned over to see someone walking over to you. You mentally cursed at yourself for responding to the nickname. The person who you assumed was Moon Eunjae grinned, wearing clothing vastly different from everyone else.

A baggy sweatshirt with faded jeans. He didn’t look like someone who could own such an expensive jacket but maybe he was just dressing down. You held the jacket out when he got close, a slight smile on your lips.

“Here… Thank you for offering it to me. I didn’t mean to act so childish last night.” You said, bowing your head slightly. Being his elder, you felt a bit embarrassed he took care of you.

Eunjae looked to be a few inches taller than you. Shaggy black hair. He had sharp dark brown eyes that stared straight at you. His lips pulled into a smug smile as he tilted his head. It took a moment before he grabbed his jacket from your hand.

“Thanks.” He said, his voice smooth and silky. You almost wanted to run out there but couldn’t help but stare right back at him.

He was handsome but you don’t remember ever being phased by a man being handsome. Mainly… only Kim Junhan had ever made you feel this strange way.

Eunjae suddenly hummed. “Do you want to have dinner before you go?”

Your lips parted, ready to refuse. “Yes.”

What?

You followed Eunjae out of the hotel. He didn’t say anything the entire walk. It was only for a few minutes before you reached a small little restaurant outdoors. There was a large tent covering it. A few people were sitting around eating what looked be Korean BBQ.

Eunjae motioned for you to sit while he talked to the owner. The owner almost looked excited to see Eunjae as she immediately pointed for him to sit down as she grabbed a plate of raw meat.

The two came over to where you sat. Eunjae sat down just as the owner turned on the heat of the grill. She handed Eunjae the meat and gave you a smile before rushing off to help some customers.

You reached out to grab the tongs when he did it for you. Your eyes just simply watched as he began to cook the meat. It was usually the eldest that cooked the meat—so to have him do it felt weird.

After a couple were finished he placed it on your plate, motioning for you to eat.

You silently thanked him and began to eat, having not had Korean BBQ in a hot minute. It was better than you remembered. You couldn’t help but flex your hand, shaking it in excitement as you continued to eat. Eunjae knew how to cook the meat just right!

A snort caught your attention as you looked up.

“You act like a kid.” Eunjae said, placing a few more pieces of meat on your plate. “It’s cute. You really are a Gangaji.”

You blushed. “It’s not right to call me that. I’m older than you.”

“Ah,” Eunjae rolled his eyes. “Should I call you hyung then?”

“Well, no, we’re not close.”

“But what if I want us to be?”

You almost choked as your eyes widen. Eunjae smirked. What the hell was wrong with this kid?

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one. I can legally drink.” He said, motioning to the beer he had ordered.

“Well I’m twenty-five; twenty-six in a few weeks. You shouldn’t speak so informally with me.”

“Why should I speak formally with my Gangaji?”

“You little!”

Eunjae ignored your outburst and placed the rest of the meat on your plate. He turned off the grill and began finally eat his meat that he cooked. You knew the meat had to have been cold by now. You were about to give him some of your meat as it was recently cooked but he suddenly looked up at you.

“I usually stay to people my own age.” Eunjae confessed. “But you’re too cute to pass up.”

“I’m a person.”

“And my Gangaji.”

“Stop calling me that!” You whined, trying your best to glare at him.

Eunjae’s eyes bore into yours. You suddenly felt watched as he just stared at you for a moment.

“Are you happy, Lee (Name)?”

Your eyes widen. It was odd to hear him properly speak to you. To use your name. But to even ask such a question. What the hell.

“Why… Why do you…?”

“It’s just a question.” Eunjae said nonchalantly. “I’m not happy, at least not fully. I think I’m not living life the way I want to.”

“I…”

“Are you living the life you want? Are there any people you should cut out of your life?”

A shuddered gasp left your lips, your eyes wide as you tried to speak. Why did it feel like everyone was suddenly your therapist?!

“I’m.. I’m happy.. I…”

“Are you religious?”

“How..?”

Eunjae grinned. “I don’t think you’d wear a cross necklace if you weren’t.”

You glanced down to notice your necklace wasn’t tucked in your shirt like it usually was. Your hand quickly tucked it away. Looking back up at Eunjae, his face was unreadable as he watched your action.

“It’s… I uhm. I do attend sermons. Are you religious?” You asked.

“No.” Eunjae took a sip of his beer. “Someone like me would burn if I step foot in a church.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

It was silent for a moment as he went back to eating his meat. Once he was finished, Eunjae glanced over at you.

“We should be friends. My mom wants me to be friends with more sensible people.” Eunjae chuckled, grinning at you. “Will you be my friend, Lee (Name)?”

You bit your lip. “Ah, but we might not have anything in common…”

“We’ll find something.” Was all he said before getting up, motioning that he was going to pay the bill. You almost shot up at the idea but he didn’t take no for an answer.

After paying, Eunjae walked with you to the train station. Usually silence made you feel awkward or anxious. But with Eunjae, the silence felt peaceful. Your mind didn’t overthink with him.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything. You just felt weirdly comfortable with him. There was an odd disappointment when you finally reached the station. You wondered if you should thank him or something when a hand slithered itself to the curve of your waist.

Your eyes widen as lips pressed against yours. Eunjae was kissing you. Kissing you out in the open. Your hand pressed against his chest but you hesitated for a moment to push him away.

No.

A man’s lips aren’t supposed to feel so good.

You were normal. You couldn’t be…

When Eunjae pulled away, you subconsciously moved forward. Your eyes watched his face as a slight smirk pulled on his lips. He released his grip on you before reaching up and tugging off his jacket.

You watched, sober this time, as he placed the jacket on your shoulders. He carefully helped you put it on, zipping it up. His hands rest on your shoulders before gripping your face, squishing it softly before pulling away.

“Text me when you get home, Lee (Name).” Eunjae said. You tried to ignore the weird way you wished he called you Gangaji again. That was weird, no man calls another man a puppy!

You mutely nodded, feeling cozy in the jacket. “How will you get your jacket back..?” You whispered.

Eunjae grinned. “You’ll call me.” He said. “And when I answer your call, you’ll come running to me.”

“Won’t you run to me..?”

“No,” he laughed. “You better go, the trains about to leave.”

“What about your number?”

“It’s the same one you called. Just save it.”

You nodded but your feet was glued to the ground. There wasn’t anything else you wanted to ask but you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave him. This odd feeling you have. Infatuation probably.

You’ve never felt this way about a woman.

For a man younger than you was insane. You almost wanted to cry. Couldn’t you do anything right?

A hand caressed your cheek, causing you to glance up. His thumb pressed against the bottom of your lip. It gently pried your lips apart before he leaned down, his lips teasing the tip of your ear.

“Don’t look at me like that—I’ll end up leashing you so you’re never away from me.”

You gulped as he pulled away. He didn’t say anything else besides gently nudge you to leave. You listened and quickly walked to train just as the doors open. Just as you stepped inside, you glanced back at him.

Eunjae waved. His lips parting to mouth something.

A blush spread on your cheeks at his words.

Good boy.

Something was awakening within you and it wasn’t going to be good.

❝ 달빛 아래 숨죽인 나 ❞

Sunday Service.

Sunday Service was something you had come to hate. But you never skipped them despite your body always feeling physically sick on Sundays. You had begun waking up early and vomiting the bile in your throat.

When you told your mother she said it was God pushing the sin out.

Whatever that meant.

You sat in the usual back row, right next to your mom. You always sat at the end so you could bolt right out as soon as it’s finished. The pastor was preaching something. The quotes weren’t registering to you.

A tap on your shoulder caused you to sit up straight. You didn’t look at your mother knowing she would be looking at you with anger. The pastors words finally began to settle in.

Genesis 19:26.

Your body froze when the pastor began reciting the verses. Something felt wrong. Very wrong.

You glanced over at your mother and saw she was smiling at you. It was a genuine smile—as if she was happy about what was happening. She couldn’t have…

Memories of after Kim Junhan’s death filled your mind. You had mostly blocked it out at this point but it was all coming back. After the funeral, your mother had pulled you aside to talk to you.

She quoted Genesis 19:26 to you. Reciting it word for word. Then told you that your ‘worldly’ beliefs would lead you to follow in Junhan’s fate. You remember asking her if she thought Junhan possibly loving the same sex meant he had to die.

You remember her face.

Her blank face before saying yes right. Junhan’s parents were only a few feet away from you. You wondered what would’ve happened if you had told them what she said. That their poor son was killed because God believed homosexuality was a crime.

That God created the accident. That the drunk driver probably wouldn’t have killed them if Junhan only kissed girls.

In a way, you began to believe it was your fault he died. Maybe if you pushed harder, let him know he couldn’t live his life his way.

Your breathing was hard. Your hands gripped at your pants as you watched everyone else just say “amen” over and over again. You glanced up at where the pastor was. Your mother was friends with the pastor.

Did she really request him to recite that specific scripture? Would she do that to you?

Did she suspect you were falling back into homosexual thoughts?

You wanted to vomit.

A strangled gasp left your lips as you shot up. Everything stopped, everyone staring at you. You knew you probably looked like a freak. People probably thought you were scared about a homosexual.

You had to leave. You couldn’t be here anymore.

Your hand gripped at the bench as you made the attempt to leave.

“Where are you going? You’re being disrespectful!” Your mother yelled, grabbing your hand.

“Let go of me!” You involuntarily screamed, ripping your hand from her grasp. A needle could be dropped at your outburst. You, Lee (Name) screamed?

Just as you were about to apologize, a hand gently rest it on your back. You glanced back to see someone you least expected.

Standing behind you was Kim Junhan’s parents, Geon and Dohee. Geon gave you a comforting smile as he gently patted your back. You looked down in embarrassment.

“We’ll help him get some fresh air. Please continue on.” Dohee said, smiling. She turned to your mother and gave her a nod before motioning for her husband to help you walk out. Geon practically dragged you out, your legs feeling like jelly.

You don’t remember ever seeing Geon and Dohee at the church ever since Junhan’s funeral.

The fresh air brought a much needed relief as it kissed your face. Geon held you to his chest as you attempted to stand straight. Dohee came over with a water bottle, dapping at your skin with a handkerchief.

“Poor, baby… You’re sweating.” She muttered.

“Are you alright, (Name)-Ah?” Geon asked, helping you to sit down on the outdoor bench. You practically collapsed and went limp, chugging at the water bottle.

“It looked like he was having a panic attack. (Name)-Ah, do you have any medication for it?” Dohee said. You forgot she was a therapist.

You coughed slightly. “Why are you guys here?”

Dohee smiled somberly. “Well, Friday was Junhan’s death anniversary so we came to visit his grave. We were going to go back to Seoul yesterday but I wanted to visit the church to see some old friends.”

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly whispered. “I haven’t been visiting his grave often.”

Geon patted your head. “It’s alright. We know you love him. How have you been? Is everything treating you alright?”

You frowned. How much should you tell them? Back then, they certainly knew your father hated you. It wasn’t exactly a secret. There were so many times you ran to Junhan’s house to stay the night or even weekend to get away from home.

“I just… I just always feel anxious and terrible when I hear Genesis.” You admitted.

“Genesis? Why? It’s simply about disobedience.” Geon handed you Dohee’s handkerchief that you greatly accepted.

You shook your head. “It’s not over the story’s meaning itself… It’s more so on the memory surrounding it.”

Dohee and Geon didn’t make attempt to press you on it, thankfully. Geon went back inside to grab some more water as Dohee sat down beside you.

“Have you been treating yourself well?” She asked.

“Yes… I have.”

“Mhm.” She glanced over at you. “You can always contact us or even visit us, (Name)-Ah. Just because Junhan is gone doesn’t mean we have to leave your life as well. I felt like you were my own son back then. And even now, you’re my son. I worry for you. I want you to be happy, doing whatever you so wish.”

You frowned, biting your lip. “Anything? What if what I want to do is against God?”

“You want to murder someone?”

“What?! No!”

“Then what could it be? Do you truly believe in God? I remember how you speak about God—it’s always in fear. You never seem happy in church.”

You stared at her. “I guess… I guess I didn’t willingly want to go to church. Coming to church makes me anxious. I don’t like it here.”

“Then why come?” Dohee patted your leg. “You’re not a child anymore. You’re twenty-five. I assume you have your own apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you letting your moth—your fear control you?” She gave you grin. “Before you started going to church, you were so bratty. No one could tell you to do anything without getting into a screaming match. You had to be presented a PowerPoint to do anything. I know it’s been too long for you to truly be that person again.

“But I believe you can see your worth. It’ll take time but you need to stop letting God or anyone else tell you what to do.” She sighed, pulling away just as Geon came outside with a water bottle. He handed it over to you.

You stayed outside with Geon and Dohee for a while longer. They told you to visit them whenever you came back to Seoul and left. It almost felt amazing to be with older people who were normal. You thought back to Dohee’s words as people began to leave church, signaling the service was done.

Your mother and her usual group of friends came over with their children. You usually attempted to force a smile but you didn’t this time, too tired to really do anything. So you didn’t even try to stand up when they were right in front of you.

“Lee (Name), are you alright? That was so scary? What happened?” A woman asked.

“Stomach bug.”

“Stomach bug? But why did you scream?” A man asked, one of the older woman’s son. His wife was right beside him, holding their daughter. You knew that’s what your mother was praying day and night for you to have.

“I was going to throw up if she held me back.”

Your mother looked angry but you didn’t say anything to her. The group began talking a bit amongst themselves when one of your mother’s bestest friend came over with her daughter who was close in age with you.

The mother was Sieun. Her daughter being named Gayoung if you could remember.

“(Name), you gave us quite a fright! Gayoung was so worried she was about to rush out to see if you were alright.” Sieun said, subtly nudging her daughter.

Gayoung smiled shyly, pushing at her hair. “Are you okay now, Lee (Name)..?” She whispered.

You knew Gayoung was any Christian man’s dream girl. A pretty girl who was quiet and modest. It wasn’t her fault that her mother was so desperate to marry her off to any man.

“I need to go, the virus is coming back.” You said, standing up. The three women stared at you in shock as you walked away.

It felt absolutely awful to leave them like that but you didn’t think you could handle staying there for a second longer. You just wanted to get home and collapse on your bed before work tomorrow.

You wanted to die.

It took longer for you to get home because of the need to stop multiple times. But you finally reached it. You got inside and kicked your shoes off, sluggishly dragging your body to your bedroom.

You plopped down with a huff, reaching into your pants to pull out your phone. It was around 4 pm.

You attempted to just sleep then when your eyes landed on a jacket resting on your door. It was fluffy and the most expensive thing in your house. Eunjae’s jacket. You slowly got up and grabbed it, hugging it to your chest.

The scent was nice. It must’ve been recently washed before Eunjae gave it to you. You dropped the jacket on the bed and began taking off your clothes. The clothes landed half hazardously around the room. Your finger tugged at your boxers before you slipped it off as well.

A grin pulled on your lips as you crawled into the bed, right over the jacket. You sprawled it out and leaned down, sniffing it. It was soft against your face. A weird feeling was taking you over as sat up.

In your twenty-five years of life you never masturbated.

Never.

Sexual pleasure was wrong.

Or the pleasure you wanted.

When you had moved out, you thought you would finally be comfortable enough to masturbate. But when you looked up porn, you noticed yourself paying more attention to the guy than the girl.

You had never touched porn again after that.

The most you had ever done was with Junhan.

But even then, you two didn’t go far because you were too scared. You had seen his cock and almost attempted to lick it. You wondered how far your relationship could’ve gone if you weren’t so scared about being punished.

Who could even punish you?

Dohee was right—you were an adult. You couldn’t live your entire life hoping to make your parents happy. To get the love from a man who doesn’t even say your name.

You stared down at the jacket. It can’t be too hard to wash a jacket, right?

Besides, it’s really soft. Is this real fur?

You slowly pressed your lower half against the jacket, your cock twitching already from the sensation. A whimper left your throat as you began to grind against the jacket. You started off slow before that wasn’t enough.

You rutted against the jacket, arching your back to get a better angle. It was so soft but that meant there wasn’t a lot of feeling in rutting. Your hand reached down as you hesitantly grasped your cock, shivering at the feeling.

The sensation was a bit much but you began jerking off. Your hips still moved as your toes curled, your orgasm already coming. To think you were missing out on this.

A stuttered whimper left you as you came, coating the soft fur beneath you. You sighed, pulling your hand away. Well, you could again…

You began to rub down against the jacket again, closing your eyes as you tried to reach a second orgasm. Maybe it was because it was his jacket you were using but you suddenly wondered what Eunjae would think if he saw you like this.

Would he be angry? Punish you for running his clothes with your cum?

Would he degrade you? The thought made you whimper—you liked his praise but you wanted to know how badly he could degrade you.

That couldn’t be normal but you were too close to think about the implications of that.

The high reached you quickly once again as your hips stuttered to a stop and you came. Your breathing was heavy as you pulled away, staring at the brown fur that was covered in white.

A weird sense of pride filled in your chest.

Now whenever he wore it, you’d be ingrained in it.

Wow, what the hell were you thinking?

You shook your head. Weird. That thought was weird. You need to take a shower.

And maybe masturbate some more.

Yeah, you have all night.

❝ 달콤한 어둠 아래 마녀들의 밤이 와 ❞

“You okay?” Eunha asked, sitting down beside you.

No, you weren’t okay. It had been over two weeks and you’ve been rutting against Eunjae’s jacket every night like a damn dog. You always managed to cum two times a row, last night reaching three!

You were insatiable. It must be your body wanting to catch up on all the years you’ve missed but it was fucking crazy that it was mostly dealing with Eunjae’s jacket!!

No way in hell you could return his jacket now. You washed it and now it was lighter than normal! How were you supposed to know you can’t bleach fur!

Eunjae would be furious!!! He’d make you pay him right away!

6,408,249 won!

That’s more than your fucking rent. That’s triple your rent!

You were so fucking screwed.

As you wallowed in self pity, you felt a pat on your back. Woohyun sat down beside you as he began eating his lunch. Eunha was still trying to ask you questions but you didn’t exactly want to tell her that you came all over a jacket and it was now ruined.

“Have you gotten back into therapy?” Woohyun suddenly asked. “I know the younger generation is much more mature about going to it. Is it too expensive now?”

“Seonbae!” Eunha glared.

You shook your head. “I won’t be able to afford therapy at this point.” You whined.

“Why?” Woohyun asked.

“Got stuck with a payment.”

“How much is it? I’ll help you.”

“Oh! Me too, Seonbae!”

“6,408,249 won.”

Woohyun and Eunha stared at you as if you were fucking insane. They both coughed before looking down at their food.

“Uhm sorry.”

“Sorry you’re going through that, Seonbae.”

“Thanks for the other anyway.” You muttered, finally eating your salad that you’ve been poking for over fifteen minutes.

That was the reason you haven’t called Eunjae despite wanting to. You practically hovered over his contact information each night before forcing yourself to bed. Why hasn’t he texted you? Why do you have to be the one to text him?

Was he finally taking to heart that you were the elder in the relationship?

Man, you didn’t care about that anymore.

Well, sort of. You still wish he had some respect for you.

The rest of the day was uneventful as you took the train back to Incheon. You actually made it home before the train got filled to the brim with people. Once you made it to your apartment you almost thought about masturbating again.

But no, you couldn’t keep running away from your future payment.

You were an adult. That meant having to face the consequences of your actions.

You changed into an oversize t-shirt and gym shorts. Your phone was staring at you as you hesitantly grasped it. You scrolled your limited contacts before landing on Eunjae’s. Your finger hovered over his contact before you slowly pressed it, anxiety taking over.

It rang for a few moments. You almost wondered if he wasn’t going to answer until it finally picked up.

“Gangaji…. What took you so long?”

A giggle almost escaped your lips but you managed to stop it by biting your tongue. “It’s Lee (Name).” You said, gotta have some form of self respect. “I wanted to know when I can return your jacket.”

“You can return it now.”

“Huh? But I’m back home in Incheon.”

“I’m in Incheon right now.”

“Huh?”

“I was visiting a friend who lives here. Tell me your address.”

You got ready to refuse, it wasn’t smart to tell a stranger your address. But when your lips parted you ended up telling him your address.

Fucking idiot.

“See you, Gangaji.”

It didn’t take too long for him to knock on your door. You had practically jumped up and ran to open it.

There he was; dressed in a simple t-shirt with baggy jeans. He didn’t even wait for you to invite him in. You almost yelled at him for that until he looked back at you and grinned. Wow, his smile must regularly make girls faint.

“Where’s my jacket?” He asked, causing your body to freeze up.

“Ah uhm. Slight problem, when I attempted to wash it I used bleach and now it’s really ashy in color.” You explained, waiting for him to yell at you and ask for payment.

But he didn’t, he looked amused. Eunjae hummed. “Okay. Lemme see.”

You nodded and went to your room. You grabbed the coat, ready to turn back when you see him entering your room. A gasp left you as you almost jumped out of your skin. Eunjae only grinned before glancing down at his jacket.

“Ah, you really did ruin it.”

You frowned. “Yeah… I know it’s over 6,00,000 won… I can’t pay that right now but I can do it in fragments or something.”

Eunjae only tilted his head. “Why did you wash it anyway?”

“Ah! I got it dirty!”

“How?”

“Ah….”

A sly smirk appeared on his lips as he stepped towards you. You flinched, taking a step back. It continued until your legs bumped against the edge of your bed and you fell down. Eunjae took advantage of that and trapped you down on the bed, his hands resting on either side of your head.

“Tell me. I deserve to know. It was my favorite jacket.”

You gulped. His favorite? Oh for fucks sake.

This was going to be so embarrassing. You clutched the coat to your chest as you closed your eyes, not wanting to look Eunjae in the eye.

“I.. got cum on it.” You whispered.

“What was that?”

“I cummed on it!” You cried out, waiting for the anger.

It was silent for a moment. You opened one eye before glancing up at Eunjae. The sight was shocking to say the least.

He didn’t look angry… he looked almost pleased..?

“Did you, Gangaji? Don’t you know that makes you naughty?” He asked, his right hand moving to grab the jacket. “But you were telling me that I have to speak to you with respect… yet here you are, cumming on my clothes like a pathetic dog.”

You whimpered as he pulled the jacket out of your grasp. He tossed it across the room before leaning down, his nose brushing against yours.

“Did you think of me? Or were you just using it because it was so soft?”

Your cheeks flushed. “A.. a few times..”

“A few times…” Eunjae’s hand trailed down your chest, grasping the edge of your shirt. He roughly pulled it up and forced it into your mouth. A strangled gasp left your lips just as you were about to spit it out when he glared at you. “Keep that between your teeth. You don’t want to act out anymore, do you?”

Eunjae smiled when you bit down on the shirt. His hands gripped your gym shorts, pulling them down without any hesitation. You could only watch as he rubbed his palm against your clothed cock. Your boxers were already tight against your skin but felt even tighter as your cock began to harden.

“Cute. I had so many ideas on how you’ll be but you’re already better than any imagination.” He said.

His palm slowly rubbed your cock. He made no effort to take your boxers off even as you began to whimper. Your hips stuttered from the feeling, wanting to just quickly jerk off. This teasing isn’t something you were used to.

No matter the fact it was another man. Despite yourself, you were thinking about how much of a sin this was. How you were disappointing everyone in your family. You were disgusting in the eyes of God.

Tears prickled your eyes as you tried to push the thoughts away.

“(Name).” Eunjae suddenly said. Your eyes opened as you stared up at him. His face was devoid of any emotion as he released his grip on your cock. You could only watch as he reached beneath your shirt. A shriek left your lips when you felt something snap against your skin.

His hand pulled out and in his palm was your cross necklace. You could only watch in awe.

“My poor Gangaji.” Eunjae muttered. You didn’t know if he was actually worried about you or being patronizing. “You’re already broken. That’s no fun.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. “I’ll have to build you back up.” He whispered against your lips. A moan left your lips as his free hand slipped into your boxers, grasping your cock with ease.

He quickly jerked you off, your back arching as the orgasm was immediately building. You were withering and moaning beneath him, grasping at the bedsheets beneath you. The shirt had already left your lips as you couldn’t hold back your whimpers.

Your toes curled as he pressed kisses along your neck. It was different with someone else. You thought you were about to die from the pleasure.

“Cum, Gangaji. Cum for me.”

A loud cry filled the room as you cummed, coating the inside of your boxers. Eunjae pulled his hand out as he pressed it against your lips. You whimpered as he pried your lips open, slipping his fingers into your mouth.

It took a moment before you began sucking on them, cleaning the cum off his fingers. Your cock twitched again. You wanted to cum again.

Eunjae chuckled. “Wow, you’re insatiable, huh?” He asked, grasping your bulge again. You whimpered, staring up at him with wide eyes.

He only smirked before rubbing your cock against your boxers. You immediately went into a panting frenzy as he rubbed a quick orgasm out of you. Eunjae hummed, seemingly shocked you came so quick.

“Cute.”

You laid on the bed in a daze, wanting to just sleep. But Eunjae had other ideas as he began to undress you. “Can’t sleep here, you need to bathe.”

A whine left your lips but you didn’t stop him. You felt his arms beneath your body before he hoisted you up.

“Stay awake for me, Gangaji.” He said, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Tell me the code to your front door.”

“Hngh… 1004.”

“Angel?” Eunjae laughed. “Cute. You really are cute, Lee (Name). I don’t want to leave you alone for a second.”

You hummed. “Then don’t…”

You must’ve fallen asleep because you woke up hours later alone in your bed. You almost felt disappointed but fought the feeling away. It was okay… At least he wasn’t going to charge you for ruining his jacket.

But you still felt so empty.

Your hand reached up to touch your chest. The cross was gone.

And you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved.

❝ 데려가 줘 영원히 마녀들의 밤이 와 ❞

It had been a week since you last seen Eunjae. You almost felt like you imagined him. But his jacket was still at your house, he never ended up taking it.

You would still rut against it to masturbate. It was still so good. But it never felt the same as when Eunjae jerk you off. You had stopped going to church and seeing your parents.

Though there were nights you cried and prayed to push the thoughts away. In your heart, you knew you were gay. You hadn’t answered your mother’s calls. Even ignoring Yerin and Yena.

You knew that would implode on you one day but at least not today.

You came home from work, ready to collapse on your bed once more.

But you noticed there were moving boxes right outside your door. You gasped, wondering if your landlord was kicking you out or worse! Until you punched in the code. It hadn’t been changed. You slowly pushed it open to see nothing had changed.

Then…

You heard a laugh coming from your spare bedroom. There was nothing in there because you could never afford to buy anything so it was your spare closet. You hesitantly walked over to the door, slowly pushing it open as well.

The room was fully furnished. A small little sofa against the wall. A whole desk with a PC and everything. A few more boxes in the room that possibly haven’t been opened yet.

In the center there was someone in the chair.

Your eyes widen as the person took off their headphones before swirling the chair around.

Moon Eunjae stared at you with a smirk.

“Welcome home, Yeobo. Sorry I took so long, I had to break the lease of my apartment back in Seoul.”

What the fuck?!

Finally!! I got Eunjae’s first chapter! I originally didn’t plan for pet play to be his main kink but realized it suited him a lot. 1004 sounds similar to the Korean word for angel (천사) that’s what Eunjae says “angel.” He isn’t as manipulative in this cuz I gotta set things up but he’s gonna turn insane in later chapters. Also, it’s pronounced Gang-Ah-Ji in case you’re confused.

Also I know Genesis 19:26 isn’t about homosexuality, but my grandma used that against me when I told her that I might be trans to persuade me to stay Cis so that’s why I used it here.

Tag list: @joonggphilia @the-ultimate-librarian @smellwell @tehyunnie @ofclyde @iwishtobeacrow @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @tomoeroi @cherry-blossoms-187 @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @euthymiko @kiiyoooo @love-kha1 @remdayz @mello-life25

Translations:

두통 (the title) — headache

다가와. 다가와, 자기야. (Come close. Come close, baby)

내가 너를 유혹하니? (Am I tempting you?)

너무 순종적이잖아. 맛보고 싶지 않아? (You’re so obedient. Don’t you want to taste it?)

그만해? 왜? 나는 진실만 말해. (Stop it? Why? I only tell the truth)

❝ 차츰 어둠이 드리울 테니 ❞ (the darkness is being casted slowly)

❝ 달빛 아래 숨죽인 나 ❞ (i hold my breath under the moonlight)

❝ 달콤한 어둠 아래 마녀들의 밤이 와 ❞ (in this sweet darkness, the witching hour descends)

❝ 데려가 줘 영원히 마녀들의 밤이 와 ❞ (take me, the endless witching hour decends)

Songs used: Reveal by The Boyz and Apple by Gfriend

[gorogues]

A lovely introspective piece with a great layout, and it's both nice and sad to ponder what could have been for them both.

Another life