#I'm leaning towards “she liked to help”

[piroulinewafers]

requesting!!

possessive and jealous caleb who cant take the sight of mc in a little bikini. she looks so hood but he can’t let anyone else see her like this so he sucks and plays with her nipples till they’re so sore the only thing she can wear now are caleb’s oversized shirts

(also not sure if you take these requests but could she also be on the smaller chest side, totally okay if you don’t accept body specific requests.)

🫶🫶🫶

𝐚/𝐧: i've been thinking about this request for like a week hehe... admittedly my productivity is waining </3 i usually write pretty generally but i'm fine with body specific requests most of the time! i wrote this generally in line with such.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: caleb x fem! reader 𝐜𝐰: nipple play idk. 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: open.

caleb wasn’t sure who he was mad at more— the sun, the sea or that damn bikini that he should’ve never let leave the store rack. 

she stood by the shoreline, the little blue and white striped two-piece catching the light like it had a grudge against his sanity. the bows on her hips fluttered with the breeze, her shoulders shining with sunscreen that he had just applied, and her top— god help him— was the smallest piece of fabric he’d ever seen called clothing.

and she was tugging at it. adjusting it. wrapping her arms over her chest like she had something to hide.

she spotted him where he sat beneath the umbrella, arms crossed, jaw tight, trying his best not to make it obvious he was glaring holes into the horizon behind her. or maybe through the pack of guys playing volleyball a little too close for comfort and letting their eyes wander.

she trudged back toward him, the sand soft beneath her steps, leaving little prints all the way up to where he sat stiff-backed in the shade. she stood in front of him, pout already in place.

“gege,” she murmured, tugging at the strings at her back and turning halfway. “can you tighten this a little? it feel loose…” 

his sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked up at her.

loose? loose ?!

she was already wearing nothing as is basically.

but he didn’t say that. instead, he gave a tight grunt, rising to his feet, brushing the sand off his shorts. his hands were warm, large palms brushing over the delicate curve of her back as he reached for the thin strings. 

“i still think we should’ve gone later when it isn’t as busy,” he muttered, tugging the bow tighter with more force than necessary— though careful not to harm her.

“i wanted to come,” she said simply, softly. “it’s nice out. i thought it’d be fun.”

his jaw clenched as he knotted the string neatly and gave the bow a final tug on the right side. she shivered a little when his knuckles brushed against the bare skin of her spine.

“there,” he said softly, voice low. “snug.” 

she turned back around, adjusting the top with her hands as if she still wasn’t quite satisfied. her fingers toyed with the fabric, and then, of course, came the complaint. 

“it’s still kind of gappy…”

he blinked once. “gappy?”

she gestured vaguely at her chest. “i don’t fill it out that well…” 

caleb just huffed, shaking his head. “that top’s just too small, that’s what.”

“i-its not even that small, it’s gappy—“

he grunted. “it is. too small. way too small. what were you thinking wearin’ this in public?”

her head dipped. “you said beach day….” 

“yeah. i meant towels. sandcastles. maybe a bit t-shirt and one of those dumb sun hats you like.”

she whined softly and covered her face. “you’re being dramatic, gege. it’s a beach, i want to wear a cute bikini.”

“i’m been’ reasonable,” he muttered, already unscrewing the cap to the sunscreen. “now sit still.”

“gege, i already did it— “ she fussed.

“noe,” caleb cut her off, flipping the cap open with one thumb. “not good enough. you missed a few spots.”

“i didn’t— “

“you did,” he said firmly, and that was that.

she huffed again, drawing her knees up a little more after sitting down. he shifted behind her, making her lean forward just a little as he squeezed sunscreen into his palm.

“you act like you’ve never been in the sun before.” she muttered.

“not with you in that little thing,” he simple grumbled in return, rubbing his hands together before spreading gate lotion across her shoulders. 

she jumped slightly at the first touch. “it’s cold!”

“you’ll live,” he responded, but even he had to slow down, hands gliding with almost reverent pressure over her bare skin. her back was soft, and warm from the sun. his thumbs brushed over her shoulders blades, slowly working the sunscreen in with practiced care.

“stop squirming,” he added, palms sliding to her lower back. “you want me to miss somethin’ and let you burn up?”

“i said i already did my back,” she grumbled in response, voice muffled as she tried not to melt under his touch. “you’re so overbearing.”

“and yet here you are,” he replied , earning close enough that his breath tickled the shell of her ear. “lettin’ me do it anyways.”

she made a tiny noise but didn’t argue.

his hands roamed slow, methodical, smoothing every inch with ridiculous focus. it should’ve been quick— routine. but his brain was short-circuiting. she was warm and practically half-naked before him, dressed like a little dream and sounding like temptation ever time she sighed under his hands.

he swallowed hard and pulled away with effort. “alright. turn.”

she blinked up at him. “what? no, caleb— my front is fine, i did that part too—“

“did you get under the straps?” he pointed to the white little straps, gently flicking the bow at her shoulders as a part of the design. “or your collarbones? your nose? you always forget your nose.”

she gave him a look, but sighed and turned toward him, arms still loosely crossed over her chest. 

caleb raised a brow. “pips.”

she let them drop with a muttered, “you’re impossible.”

caleb tried to keep his face neutral, but it was hard when she sat there in front of him, shy and squirmy and absolutely not helping his ability to function. he warmed a little sunscreen in his hands agin, then started at her shoulders, thumbs brushing over the fragile bones beneath her skin.

“you’re tremblin’,” he lightly teased, voice lower now. “what’re you so nervous for?”

“you’re staring,” she mumbled.

“I have to look,” he said. “you want me to do it right, don’t you?”

she looked away, pouting and he softened a little. then he slide his fingers up, gently smoothing lotion down her collarbone, slow and careful. when he reached the top edge of her bikini, he hesitated for a second, then kept going, thumbs brushing just beneath the fabric’s edge, where the sun would hit.

she squeaked. 

“hold still,” he murmured, but his voice was rougher now, betraying the way he was very much not holding still inside. 

“i can do it myself,” she offered weakly.

“nope,” he answered, again, always the same. “i’ve got you.” 

he finished with her chest, fingers just barely brushing down the centre of her sternum before shifting his touch to her cheeks. she blinked when he dotted a bit on her nose, then spread it gently over her scrunched face.

his hands continued their descent however, fingers skimming the sides of her ribcage before coming to rest on the delicate curve of her chest. he could feel her heart point beneath his palms as he began to smooth the sunscreen again over her skin, his touch lingering and lingering until it bordered on a caress. 

her chest was small, barely a handful at best and even that was a reach. but they were subtle in shape but soft with a slope that disappeared gently into the flat of her sternum. there wasn’t much there, not by anyone’s standards, but it was hers. modest and understated, like the rest of her. maybe that was why is drove her insane. 

caleb traced the edge of the fabric, dipping just slightly beneath to tease the soft flesh underneath. she gasped softly, her back arching slightly as a holt of sensation shot through her.

 “caleb,” she whimpered, glancing around nervously to see if anyone had noticed his brazen touch. “not here, someone might see…”

“i don’t care, let them see. you’re drivin’ me mad.” caleb growled, his voice low and rough with desire. his hands covered her small mounds completely, kneading and squeezing the supple flesh until her nipples strained against the thin fabric of her bikini top, which admittedly wasn’t all that much of a challenge. he could feel them hardening beneath his touch, the pebbled peaks pressing into his palms as he rolled and plucked at them through the material.

“gege, please…” she begged, but her protest was cut off by a sharp gasp as caleb ducked his head, flipping the top downwards and caught one stiff nipple between his teeth. 

he sucked, hard, drawing the sensitive bud into the wet heat of his mouth as his hand continued to plunder and grope her other tender breast. she writhed beneath his touch, nails digging into his thigh as she fought the urge to cry out, soft, nervous pantings of his name leaving her. 

he seemed determined to mark her, to leave his claim on her body for all to see. he laved her nipple with his tongue, sucking hard enough to leave blooming red hickeys in the shape of his mouth. his fingers pinched and tugged at the tender buds, rolling them between the pads of his fingers until she could only whimper and moan helplessly. 

by the time caleb finally released her, her breasts were red and sore, puffy, the skin tender to the touch. her nipples throbbed, the flesh puffy and sensitive from caleb’s relentless assault. she could barelyy stand to have her bikini top brush against them, let alone the rough fabric of a towel. caleb seemed to take a perverse pleasure in her discomfort, smirking as he watched her squirm. 

caleb could see the way her small chest heaved with each shuddering breath, the way her nipples strained against the fabric of her bikini top. he knew he had her right where he wanted her— at his mercy, craving his touch even though she wished to push him away.

“look at you, so sensitive” he taunted, fingers plucking at her abused nipples. they were puffy and tender to the touch. despite her lack of endearment, he couldn’t resist the temptation to keep toying with them, rolling the stiff peaks between his fingertips till she was whimpering pitifully.

caleb’s eyes gleamed with a possessive light as he took in the sight of her abused flesh, small breasts mottled red, the skin incredibly sensitive and sore to the touch. he could practically see the outline of his fingers imprinted on the tender swell, the remnant of his hungry kisses. 

“i don’t think you’ll be able to wear that flimsy bikini top for the rest of the day.” he reached out and trailed a finger along the edge of the fabric, watching as she shuddered and bit her lip to keep from whimpering. “in fact, i don’t think you should wear the top at all.”

her eyes widened at his implication, huffing as she shook her head vehemently. “caleb, i can’t— “ she stammered glancing around the crowded beach nervously.

caleb’s response was swift and decisive. he grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, revealing his muscular torso. 

her breath caught in her throat at the sight, her eyes roaming over the hard planes of his chest. caleb had always been fit, but the years in the daa and with the carapace fleet had honed his body into one sculpted by the gods. 

“no one will see,” he promised, “not if you wear my shirt. i won’t let anyone see you like this, with my marks all over your skin. i know you get embarrassed easily.” he smiled, tapping her nose as he tilted his head. “hm, is that it? are you embarrassed of your gege?”

he moved to help her put on his shirt, guiding her arms through the sleeves, his fingers brushing against her skin and sending little tingles of electricity in their wake. she shivered slightly at his touch, still feeling the lingering ache from his earlier ministrations. 

“here, let me help you,” he murmured, voice low and gentle as he eased the shirt down her torso, the fabric swallowing up her figure under she looked like the shirt was dwarfing her entirely. the shirt hung loosely on her, the neckline slipping off her shoulder and revealing the creamy expanse of skin there. caleb couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the sight.

“there,” he let out, smoothing the hem down with both hands, a satisfied sound leaving his throat. “much better.”

she peeked up at him beneath her lashes, a soft little pout forming on her lips. “you’re a jerk.”

“damn right i am,” he said, brushing a hand along the curve of her jaw before tilting her chin up. “you walk around looking like that, and you expect me to share? not happening.”

his voice dipped low, right against her ear. “you’re mine.”

and with one arm sliding firmly around her waist, he kept her tucked beneath his side sitting on the beach towel— exactly where he wanted her. 

out of sight, out of reach, and all his.

[b1eedthefreak]

hi!!! idk if you'd be interested in this idea, but i think it'd be funny daryl dating the reader but that doesn't stop other ladies from shooting their shot. i was thinking prison era, but whatever floats your boat, but like daryl genuinely doesn't understand how people don't get that he's in a relationship with literally the most amazing woman in existence?? but it gets funnier because these women actually don't know because publicly his declarations of affection just aren't that obvious but to daryl and reader his actions may as well be him screaming how in love he is. idk where i'm going with this but i hope you see the vision. 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Taken Man

⌇daryl dixon x reader

⌇summary: the women at the prison can’t seem to get the hint daryl is already a taken man and keep flirting with him, he’s sick and tired

⌇warnings: none

⌇word count: ~4.3k

a/n this request was so fun to write! i hope this was what you were expecting!

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The sun had set at the prison. The sounds of footsteps echoed off the concrete walls as Daryl made his way through the yard, balancing a stack of boxes filled with fruit. He’d volunteered to help out with the food distribution again, knowing it would give him something to do that didn’t involve constant nagging from people.

But, of course, peace was fleeting when you had a guy like Daryl Dixon, charming in his own gruff way, walking around.

As he moved, he felt something, someone, approach from behind. The first touch was unmistakable, a hand on his bicep. Daryl froze, a look of confusion passing over his face.

“Wow, Daryl,” the voice came from behind him. “You’re so big and strong. We’re so lucky to have you around.”

Daryl didn’t even look back, his face scrunching as if he didn’t know whether to be flattered or uncomfortable. “Uh… yeah. Thanks.”

He could practically hear the woman grin behind him, but he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Still, he didn’t move, just kept carrying the boxes toward the makeshift food line. The woman’s touch lingered for a moment, squeezing his arm in a way that made him want to shrug her off, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to do that without coming off rude.

Daryl was trying to move along with his load, but the woman let go. The awkwardness was thick in the air, but Daryl continued forward, shaking his head and wondering why he couldn’t just be left alone. You already have the most amazing woman in existence, he reminded himself. Why can’t they get the hint?

Later that day, as Daryl sat down at the metal table, sharpening his knife, he thought he was in the clear. He was focused on the blade in front of him, the rhythmic scraping of the sharpening stone a moment of rare peace. But that peace didn’t last very long.

He heard footsteps approach, followed by the unmistakable voice of another woman. “Oh, Daryl,” she cooed, leaning on the table beside him. “Mind if I keep you company while you work?”

Daryl looked up briefly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m good here,” he grumbled, his tone flat. He had no desire for company. Especially not from someone who couldn’t seem to see the obvious.

“Oh, come on,” she persisted. “Just a little chat won’t hurt.”

He wasn’t really paying attention anymore, just focused on sharpening his blade. His patience was wearing thin, and it was starting to show in his silence. But this lady was persistent.

Finally, she leaned over, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Daryl,” she said softly, “I just wanted to tell you how much we all appreciate you. You’re really something special.”

He let out a low sigh, gripping the handle of his knife a little too tightly. “‘Preciate it,” he muttered, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from something that didn’t involve her sitting next to him.

Just as she started to say something else, he cut her off, his voice a little firmer. “Listen, I got work to do.”

With that, she finally took the hint, stepping back. Daryl didn’t even watch her walk away. He just let out a frustrated breath, muttering to himselfz

Then, later that evening, when dinner was being served, he found himself walking into the mess hall, trying to find a quiet corner. But of course, someone else had other plans.

He was just about to sit down when another woman came up to him. “Hey, Daryl,” she said, her voice sweet. “You look like you could use some company.”

Daryl turned slowly, his face scrunching up in disgust. Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Nah, I’m good,” he grumbled.

But she wasn’t taking no for an answer. “C’mon, you’re always so quiet during dinner. You should let me keep you company!”

Daryl’s face twisted further into a frown. He couldn’t believe this was happening again. He grabbed his plate, shoved his food onto it with more force than necessary, and turned to leave.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna go eat by myself,” he muttered under his breath, clearly annoyed. “I gotta keep watch anyway.”

The woman was left standing there, flabbergasted, but Daryl didn’t care. He made his way toward Cell Block A, where he found a quiet spot, a corner where no one would bother him, and set his food down to eat in peace.

He grumbled to himself as he dug into his meal, shoveling food into his mouth like he was starving. Why can’t they just leave me alone? He didn’t understand it. He was already taken. So why were these women still coming at him like he was some sort of prize?

As he chewed his food, Carol entered, her brow furrowing slightly when she spotted him sitting alone, looking like he was about to burst from frustration.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, sitting down next to him.

Daryl glanced at her, his face scrunched up in a way that screamed pure exasperation. “These damn people won’t leave me alone.”

Carol raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat. “What do you mean?”

Daryl put down his fork for a moment, mimicking a high pitched voice, hands on his head as if he was imitating the women who’d been bothering him. “Oh, Daryl, let me stay with you… Ooooh, Daryl, Daryl, Daryl!” He exaggerated his words and shook his hair. “I don’t get it, Carol! I have a beautiful girlfriend! We’re obviously together!”

Carol snorted, holding back a laugh. “I wouldn’t say it’s all that obvious, Daryl.”

He blinked, completely thrown. “How the hell not? I gave her a sharpened knife! A sharpened freakin’ knife! And I brought her a rabbit to eat!” He was so frustrated, his hands throwing gestures into the air like he was giving some sort of declaration of war speech. “What the hell else do they need to see?”

Carol couldn’t hold it in anymore. She started laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach. Daryl watched her, his frown deepening, and he shook his head. “What’s so funny? I’m serious!”

“Okay, okay,” Carol gasped, wiping away a tear. “It’s not exactly obvious to everyone. You’re not walking around with a neon sign that says ‘I’m taken.’”

Daryl looked horrified by the suggestion. “What the hell do you mean? I even—“

“You gave her a rabbit, Daryl,” Carol interrupted before he could continue, holding up her hands to stop him. “That’s not exactly common behavior for a guy who’s not into her. You don’t just bring women rabbits.”

At that moment, you walked into the cell block, out of breath and clearly on the search for him.

“Hey, where’s Daryl?” you called out, looking around for him. You finally spotted him sitting next to Carol, and a smile tugged at your lips as you approached them.

Daryl didn’t see you yet, too caught up in his frustration. “These damn women keep gettin’ in my face! I don’t know how much clearer I can make it!” He slammed his fist down onto the table. “What the hell do I need to do?! Start wearin’ a damn shirt that says ‘I’m a taken man’?”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing as you approached them. Carol was cackling beside him, holding her stomach. The two of them looked at you in surprise, but Carol was clearly enjoying the show.

“I take it things are going well?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daryl groaned, looking like he was about to lose it. “They won’t leave me alone, and it’s makin’ me lose my mind!”

You sat down next to him, placing a hand on his arm, trying to stifle your laughter. “Daryl, baby… it’s not that obvious to people.”

His face was so deadpan as he groaned, “What the hell do you mean? I gave you a damn rabbit!”

“Yeah,” you said, holding in a grin, “but some people don’t know our signs.”

Carol just about lost it again at Daryl’s expense, her laughter echoing through the room.

Daryl slouched, finally realizing the hilarious truth. “I’m gonna need a damn neon sign next time.”

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[kpoplustzone]

GYM FUN - KARINA SMUT - PART 1

oc x karina

4078 words

click on the links provided for sexy images and pictures of karina along the story

Ko fi link- https://ko-fi.com/epiclude

Park Jin-ho walked into the spacious workout room, his eyes scanning the various members going through their routines. His gaze stopped abruptly when he saw Karina in a far corner, already starting her warm-up. Her movements were fluid and graceful, each stretch highlighting the incredible shape of her body. Jin-ho could only gulp, his eyes fixed on her. The idol, well-known for her generous curves, was wearing a tight-fitting athletic top, and as she raised her arms and leaned to the side, the fabric stretched across her prominent chest, giving Jin-ho a very clear and rather breathtaking view of her ample breasts. He couldn't help but stare for a moment, completely captivated by her physique.

Karina's body was truly a sight to behold, even in the simple gym attire. Her athletic top clung to her torso, accentuating her narrow waist, which flared out to naturally wide hips, creating that classic, coveted "S-line" figure that South Korean men often raved about. It was no secret that she was considered one of the most beautiful idols, her visuals often described as almost unreal, like something straight out of a fantasy. But it was her chest that often drew the most attention. Her breasts were undeniably full and perfectly shaped, a focal point that many South Korean men openly admired and fantasized about. The way they moved subtly with each stretch, the gentle bounce as she shifted her weight, it was a mesmerizing sight. It wasn't just the size; there was a certain natural grace to her physique that made her movements captivating. For many men in South Korea, Karina represented the ideal of feminine beauty and sex appeal, a goddess-like figure whose every appearance sparked intense admiration and a flood of online commentary about her "divine" proportions. Jin-ho, watching her with his heart pounding a little faster than usual, certainly understood the hype

Jin-ho took one last, subtly appreciative glance at Karina’s incredible form before composing himself and walking over to where she was stretching. She was wearing sleek black leggings that hugged her legs perfectly, showcasing her toned thighs and calves. Her athletic top was a stylish charcoal grey, fitted but breathable, with thin straps that highlighted her shoulders. It was clear she took her workouts seriously.

As he approached, a professional smile gracing his lips, he said in Korean, "Annyeonghaseyo, Karina-ssi. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Jin-ho, your trainer for today." He extended a hand towards her. "We have an hour together, as you mentioned, so let's make the most of it. How are you feeling today, and is there anything specific you'd like to focus on?" He kept his tone friendly but strictly professional, his gaze focused on her eyes, though he couldn't help but notice the slight sheen of sweat on her brow and the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. He was determined to keep his admiration for her stunning looks separate from his role as her trainer.

"Alright, planks first. Just keep your body straight like a board," Jin-ho said, showing her what to do. Karina got down on her arms, her butt sticking up just a little bit in the air at first, then she straightened out. Her tight gym pants showed off every curve of her bottom, and Jin-ho had to stop himself from staring too hard.

As she held the plank, her body shaking a little, she sighed in a way that sounded like she was enjoying it. "Your arms look so strong," she said, looking up at him with a sly smile. "You must be able to hold on for a long time." Jin-ho felt his face get a little hot but tried to act cool. "It comes with the job. Just like your amazing body comes with yours."

Then, while she was holding the plank, she started to wiggle her hips a tiny bit from side to side. It was a small move, but Jin-ho definitely noticed. It was like she was saying, 'Look at this, do you like it?' Her chest was pressed against her top, and he could see the outline of her nipples pushing against the fabric. He had to look away for a second.

Karina held the plank, her body firm and toned, but a playful glint in her eyes suggested her mind wasn't solely on her core strength. She subtly arched her back downwards for a fleeting moment, causing her chest to press even harder against the thin material of her top, the shape of her nipples becoming even more defined. She then returned to the strict plank form, as if testing Jin-ho to see if he had noticed the brief, deliberate flash.

"Is this… making you sweat, Jin-ho ssi?" she asked, her voice laced with a teasing sweetness as she glanced over at him, a small smirk playing on her lips. The question was clearly double-edged, referring both to the physical exertion and the obvious effect she was having on him. She then slowly lowered herself to her knees, stretching her arms out in front of her in a child's pose, offering Jin-ho an unobstructed view of her perfectly rounded backside in the tight leggings. As she held the pose, she subtly flexed her glutes, the smooth fabric stretching and clinging to every curve. Jin-ho found himself having to look away, his professional composure teetering on the edge. His heart was definitely pounding now, and he could feel a warmth spreading through his lower body.

Jin-ho’s mind was racing. He could feel the heat radiating from Karina, not just from her workout, but from a palpable sexual energy that was now thick in the air between them. It was undeniable – the sly glances, the suggestive comments, the subtle body language. Karina wasn't just teasing; she was clearly horny and looking for an outlet. And out of everyone in the gym, she was directing that energy squarely at him. A surge of adrenaline and desire shot through him. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, an incredibly hot idol practically throwing herself at him. He decided then and there that he wasn't going to let this moment pass. He was going to give her exactly what she wanted.

Jin-ho took a step closer, his gaze locking onto Karina's. The professional mask had completely slipped, replaced by a raw hunger that mirrored her own. "You're right, Karina-ssi," he said, his voice low and husky, "this doesn't have to be just a workout." His eyes flickered down to her chest, lingering for a moment before returning to hers, a silent question hanging in the air. He saw the answering spark in her eyes, a clear invitation. Without another word, he reached out, his hand gently tracing the curve of her neck before sliding down to rest on the swell of her breast, his thumb lightly brushing over the fabric, feeling the hard peak beneath. "You want this, don't you?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Karina’s smile widened, a look of pure, unadulterated desire washing over her beautiful face. She moved towards Jin-ho, who had indeed settled onto the padded floor, his legs spread slightly, the unmistakable bulge of his erection clearly visible through his gym shorts. Kneeling in front of him, her eyes never leaving his, she slowly reached out a hand. Her fingers, delicate yet firm, gently traced the outline of his hard-on through the fabric, her touch sending a visible shiver through Jin-ho’s body. She started at the base, her fingertips lightly skimming the sensitive area just above his groin, and then slowly moved upwards along the length of his thick cock, teasing him with feather-light strokes. When she reached the tip, she circled it gently, her touch promising more to come. Jin-ho watched her, his breath catching in his throat, utterly captivated by her bold and sensual initiation.

From his seated position, Jin-ho had a breathtaking view of Karina. Her beautiful face, usually framed by perfect makeup and elaborate hairstyles for performances, now had a natural, slightly flushed glow. Her eyes, wide and filled with a playful desire, were locked on his, a confident smile gracing her full lips. The angle gave him a perfect view down the front of her athletic top, the fabric stretched tight across her generous breasts, the outline of her nipples clearly visible. Her arms were slightly outstretched as she traced his erection, pulling the material of her top taut across her chest, further emphasizing her impressive cleavage. Behind her, her back arched slightly, presenting her round, firm buttocks, the tight black leggings clinging to every curve and crevice. Her thighs looked thick and powerful, hinting at the strength she possessed beneath her seemingly delicate exterior. It was a view that confirmed every fantasy he'd ever had about the stunning idol, amplified by the intimate and undeniably seductive way she was now touching him. Slowly, Karina reached down and pulled Jin-ho's hard cock out of his gym shorts. It popped out, looking thick and long in the air. Her eyes opened a little wider as she looked at it, like she was surprised by how big it was. She reached out with both hands, her fingers gently wrapping around its length. She started to stroke it slowly, just feeling the weight and hardness of it in her hands She started to move her hands up and down more quickly now, really getting a feel for his hardness. Her eyes flicked up to meet Jin-ho’s, a playful, teasing smile on her face. Then, she leaned forward slightly and slowly licked the tip of his cock with her tongue. Jin-ho gasped, his body tensing. Karina kept her eyes on him as she took more of him into her mouth, her lips closing around the head. She sucked gently at first, then with more enthusiasm, her hand still stroking the length of his shaft. From Jin-ho’s perspective, having the incredibly gorgeous Karina from Aespa’s lips wrapped around his cock was an experience beyond his wildest fantasies. He looked down at her kneeling in front of him, her dark hair falling around his lap as she expertly licked and sucked him. Her eyes were focused, intent on pleasuring him, and the sight of such a famous and desirable idol giving him this kind of attention was unbelievably arousing.

A wave of pure, unadulterated lust washed over him. He couldn't believe his luck. Karina, a goddess in the eyes of millions, was treating his cock like it was the most precious thing in the world. The warmth of her mouth, the gentle tugging sensation, the occasional flick of her tongue – it was driving him absolutely crazy. He thought about all the guys in South Korea who would give anything for just a moment with her, let alone this kind of intimacy. He felt a surge of pride mixed with a heady sense of power. He was the lucky one, the one she had chosen, at least for this moment, to give him exactly what he craved. His hands instinctively reached down, wanting to touch her hair, to feel her closer as she continued her passionate assault on his senses. A surge of boldness coursed through Jin-ho. Emboldened by Karina's eager mouth, he reached down and gently but firmly placed his hands on either side of her beautiful face. Her skin was smooth and soft under his touch. Without breaking eye contact for a moment, he guided her head downwards, pressing her closer until his thick cock was fully engulfed by her warm, wet mouth. He could feel her gag slightly as she took him completely, the sensation sending a jolt of pure pleasure through him. He tightened his grip on her face, holding her there as she enthusiastically sucked him, the feeling of her deep throating him almost unbearable in its intensity. This was way beyond anything he could have imagined.

Jin-ho eased his grip on Karina’s face, allowing her to pull back. She immediately started to cough, a slight gag reflex kicking in from taking him so deep. Her cheeks were flushed a vibrant red, and her eyes watered slightly. Jin-ho looked down at his thick cock, and it was indeed covered in her glistening saliva, a wet testament to her enthusiastic oral skills. He watched her take a few deep breaths, her hand reaching up to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. There was a look of slight embarrassment mixed with amusement on her face.

Her eyes went right back to his hard cock, but then she looked down at his balls. They were just hanging there, waiting. She leaned down again and opened her mouth wide enough to take them both in. They felt warm and soft in her mouth. She used her tongue to gently lick all around them, making sure she didn't miss any spot. She'd suck on them softly, then lick them again, really giving them her attention. Jin-ho made a low noise in his throat, like he really liked what she was doing. He watched her, his eyes half-closed, as she gave his balls the same kind of special treatment she gave his cock. It felt really good.

From Jin-ho’s angle, Karina’s exquisite, small face was a vision of pure, unadulterated lust. Her dark hair framed her delicate features as her mouth moved so intimately on his balls. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin as she licked and sucked, and the occasional flick of her tongue sent shivers down his spine. His hard cock rested against her cheek, a wet and throbbing presence against her soft skin, as if even it was anticipating the next wave of her attention.

He truly felt like he was dreaming. Karina from Aespa, one of the biggest idols in the world, was kneeling in front of him, giving him the kind of pleasure most men could only fantasize about. He had seen her on stage, her powerful presence captivating millions. He had seen her flawless photoshoots, her beauty almost otherworldly. But this… this was raw, intimate, and incredibly real. He was speechless, his mind struggling to catch up with the reality of the situation. What could he possibly say? Every thought seemed to dissolve into the overwhelming sensations flooding his body. All he could do was watch her, mesmerized, as she continued her passionate assault, a silent testament to a moment he knew he would never forget.

Karina pulled her mouth away from Jin-ho’s slick cock and balls, her lips glistening with his saliva. She looked up at him, a playful smirk dancing on her face. "So, Jin-ho ssi," she purred, her voice a little hoarse from her efforts, "what are you in the mood for now?"

Jin-ho's gaze was immediately drawn to her chest. Her athletic top, now slightly damp, clung to her ample breasts, the shape of her nipples clearly defined beneath the fabric. He couldn't help but stare, completely captivated by their fullness.

Karina followed his gaze and a knowing smile spread across her face. With a slow, deliberate movement, she reached down and lifted the hem of her top, pulling it up just enough to expose the lower curves of her magnificent breasts. She held the fabric there, offering him a teasing glimpse of the pale skin underneath,

Karina held the hem of her top just high enough to reveal the plump undersides of her breasts, the shadow of her areola just visible, but not the full glory. "You like what you see, Jin-ho ssi?" she purred, her voice a husky whisper. "These were made for worship, you know. They get very sensitive… especially when they're teased just right." She lowered the hem a fraction, then lifted it again, giving him tantalizing glimpses. "Imagine how soft they feel in your hands. How good it would feel to have your mouth on them, sucking gently… or maybe a little rougher, if you prefer." She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tell me, Jin-ho ssi, which way would you worship them best?"

Slowly, deliberately, Karina took a step closer to Jin-ho, still kneeling with his hard cock pointing straight ahead. The lower half of her luscious breasts, still partially hidden by her lifted top, came closer and closer to his erection. Then, with a soft sigh and a playful smile, she leaned forward just a little, gently brushing the underside of one plump breast against the hard ridge of his penis. The soft give of her flesh against his rigid member sent a jolt of pure electricity through Jin-ho. Karina repeated the motion, this time with the other breast, teasing him with the incredibly soft and sensitive underside. It was a torturous dance of near-contact, her not fully showing him her breasts making the tease even more intense, the slight friction of her skin against his cock promising a pleasure that was just out of reach.

With a playful giggle, Karina widened the small gap between her breasts and, with a slow, deliberate motion, guided Jin-ho’s thick, long, hard cock right into the warm, soft crevice. The sensation for Jin-ho was instantly overwhelming. The feeling of her soft, full breasts enveloping his erection was like being cradled in the most sensual pillow imaginable. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, and the subtle pressure of her cleavage against his shaft was incredibly arousing. It was an intimate and daring move, trapping his cock in her personal warmth, and Jin-ho felt a rush of pure, unadulterated lust mixed with a thrill of disbelief at Karina's boldness. His breath caught in his throat, and he could do nothing but watch her face, his body completely captivated by the incredible sensation of being nestled between Aespa Karina's glorious breasts.

Even though he couldn't really see her boobs, the feeling of his hard cock sliding in and out between them felt amazing. Every time he pushed in a little, the tip of his dick would just about touch her lips. He watched her face as this happened. Her mouth would open a tiny bit, and she'd look right at him with this playful look. It was like she was teasing him. The feeling of her soft boobs squeezing his cock was driving him crazy, and the thought of his tip almost touching her lips with every push was so hot. He let out a soft groan, completely lost in the feeling of her body on his.

The way Karina’s thick, soft breasts cradled his hard cock was unlike anything Jin-ho had ever experienced. They weren't just resting against him; they seemed to mold around his shaft, the warm, full weight pressing in from both sides. With each subtle thrust, he could feel the silky smooth skin of her cleavage rubbing against him, a sensation that was both incredibly soft and intensely stimulating. Sometimes, as he pushed in deeper, his cock would slide up and nudge against the underside of her nipple, sending a jolt of pure electricity through him. He imagined how perfectly his head would fit right there, between those magnificent mounds of flesh. The feeling was so intimate, so incredibly carnal, that Jin-ho could barely keep himself from moaning out loud. Her thick body, pressed so close against his, only amplified the sensation, making every inch of contact feel charged with raw desire. He was completely lost in the moment, the playful tease having morphed into something deeply sensual and undeniably erotic.

Karina’s eyes dropped to where Jin-ho’s thick cock was nestled between her breasts, and she noticed the tell-tale sheen of precum glistening on its head. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. Without breaking contact with his gaze, she lowered her head slightly and parted her lips. Jin-ho watched, his breath catching in his throat, as her tongue darted out and traced a wet line along the underside of his glans. The sensation was electric, especially with the soft pressure of her breasts still surrounding him. Encouraged by his involuntary groan, she leaned in further, taking the very tip of his cock into her mouth, her warm lips closing around it gently at first, then with a more insistent suck. The contrast of the cool air on the rest of his shaft and the intense heat and moisture of her mouth was driving him wild. He could feel her hands gently squeezing his sides as she continued her teasing oral attention, all while his cock remained nestled in her cleavage

Karina’s sucking grew more insistent, her lips creating a firm seal around the head of Jin-ho's cock. She’d pull back slightly, just enough to expose the glistening tip, then plunge forward again, her tongue flicking across the sensitive underside. Jin-ho could feel his hips starting to twitch involuntarily, his hands gripping her sides tighter. The warmth of her breath, combined with the soft pressure of her breasts surrounding him, was sending waves of pure lust through his body. He closed his eyes, completely lost in the sensations. He could hear her soft moans of pleasure mingling with his own ragged breathing. This unexpected encounter was escalating rapidly, and he could feel himself inching closer to the edge.

Jin-ho’s body tensed, his thrusts becoming more forceful, his grip on Karina’s sides tightening. He could feel the unmistakable pulsing sensation building deep within him. With a final, shuddering groan, he unleashed a huge load of hot, thick cum into Karina’s mouth. Her cheeks puffed out as she took it all, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. Jin-ho held her close, his body still trembling from the release. When the last drops had been expelled, Karina slowly pulled back, her lips glistening with his semen. Without hesitation, she tilted her head back and swallowed every last bit, her throat moving visibly as she did so. She then looked up at him, a satisfied smile gracing her lips. "Delicious," she whispered, her voice thick with his ejaculate.

Jin-ho’s mind was still reeling. He could barely process what had just happened. Karina, Aespa’s Karina – a woman idolized by millions, someone he never thought he’d even be in the same room with, let alone this intimate – had just swallowed his cum as if it were the most delectable thing in the world. He watched, utterly stunned, as she used her fingers to gently wipe the remaining drops from the tip of his still-erect cock, bringing her fingers to her lips and sucking them clean. Her eyes met his, and the satisfied, almost sensual look on her face was more arousing than he could have imagined. He was speechless, his initial surprise quickly turning into a potent mix of disbelief and utter gratification

Seeing his cock, which had gone soft after his release, begin to swell again between her breasts, Karina looked genuinely surprised. Her eyebrows arched slightly, and her eyes widened as she felt the growing hardness pressing against her skin. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she looked down at his hardening member with a mixture of amusement and renewed desire. "Looks like someone enjoyed that," she purred, her voice laced with a playful tease. She reached down and gently caressed the growing bulge through her top, a knowing smile spreading across her face.

His cock was indeed still nestled warmly between her breasts, held captive by the fabric of her tank top. She reached down and gently squeezed the bulge, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well then, Jin-ho ssi, it seems you have a head start. But don't think that makes things any easier for you. I still expect you to keep me entertained until I've had my fill." She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. "And trust me," she whispered, her voice a low purr, "I have a very big appetite." And that brings us to the end of Part 1 of this steamy encounter between Aespa's Karina and her lucky personal trainer, Jin-ho! Jin-ho’s cock is still nestled snugly between Karina’s glorious breasts, and she’s just made it clear that this workout is far from over.

What will happen in Part 2? Will Karina finally give Jin-ho a full view of her famous assets? Will she slide his hard cock out from between her breasts and take their intimate play to the next level? You'll have to wait and see what unfolds when we continue their intensely erotic gym session! Stay tuned!

[zumicyt]

big mama.

smut...

"fuck babygirl."

billie slurs as she watches you in-between her soft thighs.

"youre doing so well for me sweet girl... yeah just like that." billie sighs and leans her head against the headboard.

you let out a small moan at her praises. you didn't even stop her when you felt her legs closing into your head. but you didn't mind being suffocated this way.

you open your eyes and see billie looking at you with such hunger. you knew she wanted to destroy you. after all you were just her fuck toy.

she starts to rock her pussy against your mouth and you can tell she's close.

you continue to lap up her juices like a mad woman until you hear her screaming your name.

"fuck on my god baby! you're doing so good... making mommy feel amazing."

you whimper at this and continue to let her ride out her orgasm with your tongue. after she's finally settled down, she smirks at your face, all droopy and chin coated with her juices.

"mmm baby's so pussy drunk can't even keep her eyes open..." she chuckled and pulls you in for a hard, lustful kiss.

"you gonna let me ride your strap baby? you wanna make me cum again?"

she starts kissing downwards and leaves kisses on your jaw and neck. you nod, but immediately know that won't do it.

"words, baby. use your words like a big girl for me yeah?" you moan out and hold onto her hair. "yes mommy please..."

satisfied, billie releases her mouth from your neck and grabs the long black dildo from her top drawer and helps you attach the strap to your hips.

"mmm baby it's like this strap was made for you. lookin' so sexy." she comments and throws you onto the bed.

after laying on your back and getting comfortable, she climbs ontop of you. she looks like a goddess infront of you.

the curves of her hips, the swell of her breasts, her big thighs spreading as she aligns the strap to her pussy, her milky skin, she is perfect.

after she let's the strap settle inside of her, she starts grinding against it.

even if you're not exactly the one receiving, you and her both know she's in charge.

she starts to hop on the strap and you can't help closing your eyes.

"I don't think so. look at me as I ride you sweet girl."

you open her eyes and see her staring at you with aggressiveness. she wants to eat you alive.

as you both find a rhythm you put your hands on her hips and guide her. but you can't stop yourself from staring and drooling at her breasts.

"you can touch em baby." she gives you the green light and you immediately latch your lips onto her tits.

the soft flesh of her consumes you. using one hand on her hip and one hand full of her left breast, you were in heaven.

she kept rocking and moaning while you were whimpering in her tits and massaging them.

"fuckkkk oh my god baby girl you feel so good inside me..."

she puts a fistfull of you hair in her palm and lightly scratches your scalp.

after a few minutes of this, she aggressively pulls your hair and causes you to unlatch from her right breast.

"want you to look me in the eyes as I cum yeah?"

she whispers and a smirk creeps on her lips. "yes mommy please cum." you moan out pathetically.

you can tell by the way she starts to rapidly rock her hips against you that she is close.

so close.

"just like that baby oh my good girl." she reaches her climax and eventually orgasms.

she is all blissed out and rises from the strap and settles down beside you.

she helps you unhook the harness of the strap and goes to go wash it off in the sink.

after coming back, she hovers above you and reaches in your pants.

she groans feeling your wetness from your orgasm.

"seems like someone couldn't help herself. did you cum when you were eating my pussy? or when I was riding your strap hm baby?"

she smirks at you trembling under her. "b-both. I'm sorry mommy."

she shushes you and reaches towards your ear licking it before whispering,

"mmm it's okay baby." she places her finger into her mouth and moans.

"you taste so well baby."

[linoxpudding]

No Escape- Kim Seungmin

summary: your life is turned upside down when a ruthless mafia leader falls for you— his obsession growing stronger each day, pulling you deeper into his dark, twisted world

pairing: mafia!seungmin x fem!reader

genre: slow burn angst, dark romance, yandere, mafia au

word count: 7809 words

warnings: kidnapping, obsession, possessiveness, forced confinement, emotional manipulation, mentions of violence, toxic dynamics, controlling behavior

a/n: okay, but seungmin in those chaumet event photos? like, he’s living rent-free in my brain at this point. the white suit is giving prince energy, but the black one though? MAJOR mafia boss vibes. help me, I'm down bad

Masterlist

~°~

It was a random Tuesday evening.

The sky had cracked open without warning, releasing a cold, relentless rain that soaked through your sweater in seconds. You didn’t have an umbrella, your tote bag was already damp, and your fingers trembled as you hugged your books against your chest.

You’d meant to head straight home after classes, but something about the storm made you duck into that little café across from the industrial district instead. It was warm inside—quiet, dimly lit, with rain tapping gently on the fogged windows. The kind of place that smelled like old wood and cinnamon.

You found a spot by the window and sank into it, grateful. Ordered a latte, pulled out the book you were currently reading, and let the storm settle around you.

Across the street, he noticed you the second you ran into view.

From the backseat of a matte black car, tinted windows rolled halfway down, Seungmin’s fingers paused around the rim of a crystal tumbler. Amber scotch swirled lazily inside, untouched. The man beside him—older, in a gray coat, mid-sentence about offshore accounts and numbers Seungmin didn’t care about—went ignored.

Because you had caught his eye. You were nothing like the world he usually lived in. No designer heels, no bloodstained alliances, no veiled threats behind fake smiles.

Just you.

Soaking wet, eyes squinted against the rain, half-laughing as you darted across the street, nearly slipping. Your hair clung to your face. Your bag bounced at your side. You looked annoyed, tired… human.

And you disappeared inside the café like a whisper.

Seungmin leaned forward slightly, ignoring the impatient look his associate gave him. The sharp sound of rain on the windshield, the glow of café lights through the haze—everything else dulled in comparison.

He didn’t even blink.

“Are you listening, Kim?”

The man’s voice broke through the quiet.

Seungmin didn’t respond at first. Just narrowed his eyes at the café door.

Then finally, he exhaled through his nose, cold and flat. “Repeat that.”

The man clicked his tongue but did.

Yet Seungmin’s mind was still elsewhere.

He hadn’t seen anyone like you in a long time—someone who didn’t look like they belonged to the world he owned. And something about the way you carried yourself, even in the most mundane way… it scratched at something deep in his chest.

He needed to see your face again. To know your name. To understand why he suddenly didn’t care about the deal he’d spent weeks arranging.

But when the meeting ended and the man finally left the car, Seungmin turned his head back toward the café but you were gone.

The corner booth was empty. Your drink half-finished. Chair still slightly askew. Gone. Just like that.

He blinked once. Then twice. Sat forward in his seat like it would bring you back into view. Nothing. His hand tightened around the glass of scotch until it cracked.

“Where the fuck did she go?” he hissed, tossing the glass to the floor as the door opened.

Han Jisung slid into the backseat, raising a brow at the shattered mess. Han was one of Seungmin’s most trusted men. His consigliere. The silver-tongued devil who could talk a rat into a cage. He charmed politicians, bribed judges, made enemies feel like friends before they bled out on concrete.

Han looked at the mess before speaking, “Did that dude say something stupid again or—”

“She’s gone.”

“Who?”

“The girl.”

Han frowned, turning his head toward the café. “There was a girl?”

“Corner booth. Reading. Wearing white.”

“I didn’t see anyone when I came out.”

“That’s the point,” Seungmin growled. “She was there. Then she wasn’t.”

Without another word, he opened the door and stepped out into the drizzle. Crossed the street. Pushed into the café.

The bell over the café door jingled softly when he walked in. Heads turned. The few customers glanced up in mild curiosity—then quickly looked away when they saw his face.

Because he wasn’t just anyone.

He was Kim Seungmin. The name you only whispered when you were absolutely sure no one else could hear. The name associated with disappearing debts, bodies found floating in rivers, and entire criminal families reduced to ashes.

He didn’t run a mafia. He was the mafia.

Ruthless. Calculated. Obsessively private. His power was the kind that didn’t require guns drawn in public—people made space the second they recognized him. Because if Kim Seungmin had to show up in person… it meant you were already too late.

And tonight, he didn’t care about stares.

He walked straight to the counter, dark suit still perfectly pressed, eyes razor-sharp under the soft lights. The scent of rain still clung to his coat, a few stray droplets falling from his sleeves as he placed both hands on the polished wood.

The boy behind the counter blinked twice before his hands nervously reached for the register. “W-What can I get for you, sir?”

“Girl. Corner booth. Just now.”

The barista blinked. “Oh, uh, yeah. She was here. Didn’t order much. Latte, I think. Stayed maybe an hour?”

“Her name?”

“She didn’t give one.”

“Card?”

“Paid cash.”

“CCTV?”

His face paled. “Camera system’s been broken for months, sir. Sorry.”

Seungmin stared at him for a beat too long. Then turned sharply, storming out, Han hot on his heels.

“Boss—”

“Every angle of this street,” Seungmin barked, already pulling out his phone. “Find her. I don’t care if you have to tear this district apart.”

And that was the moment it began. Not a crush. Not curiosity. Obsession.

The café became a checkpoint. He sent someone to ask for the receipts that night. Pulled surveillance from nearby businesses. Tapped traffic cams.

Just to see your face again. Just to find you. Because he wasn’t used to wanting something he couldn’t immediately take. And that made you dangerous.

But even more than that it made you his. You just didn’t know it yet.

*********************

The next few days blurred.

Han returned hours later, drenched and irritated. “No CCTV. The one across the bakery’s busted. The pole cam on the street’s been non-functional for three weeks.”

Seungmin didn’t respond.

He stood by the window of his penthouse suite, city lights sprawling beneath his feet. Hands in his pockets. Jaw tight.

“She’s untraceable,” Han said. “Like a ghost. I mean, you sure this wasn’t just—”

“She’s real,” His voice was low, threatening. “And I’m going to find her.”

It should’ve been easy to find a girl in a small city. You should’ve been traceable in hours, maybe days—at most a week.

But you weren’t. You disappeared like a whisper on the wind.

Han wasn’t the only one frustrated. By week two, even Lee Minho—Seungmin’s most level-headed lieutenant—was starting to lose his calm.

“Tell me how a goddamn street full of million-dollar real estate has no working cameras?” Minho snapped, slamming a thick folder onto the desk.

“Don’t raise your voice,” Seungmin muttered without looking up.

“I’m not raising it. I’m explaining how stupid this is.”

Minho paced the floor of Seungmin’s study, black-gloved hands clenched and twitching. “You’re telling me that in your territory, there’s an entire street with zero surveillance. That a girl—one girl—shows up, disappears, and we have nothing on her?”

Han exhaled from the armchair. “We tried tracing the route from nearby businesses, traffic cams—half of them are fake or broken. And the only useful one was facing the other side.”

“She wasn’t a plant, right?” Minho asked sharply. “No one sent her?”

“She didn’t even look up,” Seungmin said darkly. “She wasn’t aware of anything except her book.”

Minho narrowed his eyes. “And that’s what got you so obsessed?”

Seungmin stood abruptly.

It was the first time in days he’d shown emotion louder than a breath.

“Something about her didn’t belong in this world,” he said, almost to himself. “Like she was dropped into it by mistake. And I…” he dragged a hand through his hair, something unhinged glinting in his eyes, “…I needed to have her.”

Minho didn’t speak. But his jaw ticked.

“If we don’t find her soon,” he said finally, “someone else might. You’re not the only one who noticed you were staring.”

“She’s mine,” Seungmin snapped. “Let them try.”

*********************

Weeks passed.

No face to match. No name to trace. No leads.

He remembered the way your fingers curled around your mug. How your eyes flicked over the page like you were drinking the words. You didn’t even look up when the thunder cracked. You were that absorbed.

You were… different. Something about the stillness in you made the world around you fade.

And it drove him insane.

He dreamt of you.

Sometimes you were sitting at the booth again, sunlight hitting your hair. Sometimes you were on the other side of the window, face pressed to the glass, mouth forming his name. But when he reached for you, you vanished.

By the third week, Seungmin had men positioned around every café, bookstore, and university campus in the district. He scanned police records, hospital visits, university logs. Checked social media using facial sketch renderings. Had artists draw from memory.

He started carrying that small sketch folded in his wallet. An artist’s attempt to draw you from memory.

Han saw it once. “You really think this will help?”

Seungmin didn’t answer. Just stared at the drawing, his thumb brushing across where your mouth would be.

He was furious. And yet still enthralled. Because the harder it was to find you, the deeper you embedded yourself inside his mind.

You became a challenge. A puzzle. An ache he couldn't scratch away.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered one night, slumped back in his leather office chair, brows furrowed deeply as a glass of scotch sat untouched on his desk.

“I always find what I want.”

The search turned violent after that.

Bribes weren’t working, so Seungmin turned to threats. A few coffee shop owners went missing. A college registrar’s office burned down. Rumors started swirling about a “ghost girl” and the man obsessed with her.

But no one could give him your name.

The longer you evaded him, the worse his temper got.

Minho stopped arguing with him. Han spoke in a calculated tone. The entire gang operated under a cloud of tension, walking on eggshells because Kim Seungmin was unraveling.

“Find her,” he growled. “Or you’ll wish you were never born.”

Each night, in the silence of the mansion, he sat by the window — scotch in one hand, your sketch in the other.

Every night, that same question: Where the hell are you?

*********************

Three months in.

Minho entered his office with a grim look. “I think I got a hit.”

Seungmin straightened immediately. “Where?”

“College campus. Some girl matching your description helped a classmate with a presentation. One of the guys mentioned a book you were reading… it matched the one from the café. Niche edition. Rare.”

Seungmin was already grabbing his coat.

“I want eyes on every exit,” he ordered, voice low but sharp. “We move only when I say.”

The next hour passed like a countdown. Minho took the wheel. Jisung slid into the passenger seat beside him. Seungmin sat in the back, silent, unreadable, one hand tapping slowly against his thigh. Rain drizzled over the windshield as they pulled up outside the university’s east gate.

They waited.

Minutes stretched. Students trickled out in clusters—hoods up, laughter rising faintly even through the closed windows.

And then you finally stepped out of a building with a few other students, hoodie pulled over your head, laughing at something someone said.

He knew instantly.

Even before your face turned toward the road—he knew.

His breath hitched.

“That’s her,” he muttered, barely audible.

Han followed his gaze and smirked. “Three months of hell, and we finally found her.”

Seungmin watched you from the shadows, his eyes wild with something dark and aching.

“There you are,” he murmured.

Three months.

Three months of madness. Of obsession. Of sleepless nights and fraying patience.

And there you were. Just walking. Just breathing. Just existing like you hadn’t haunted him all this time. He smiled slowly but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Let her walk home,” he said. “I want to know exactly where she lives.”

Seungmin’s eyes didn’t blink. Didn’t shift. His chest rose once, then fell slowly.

He leaned back in the leather seat, fingers tapping the armrest in thought. Han was already dialing someone.

“Got her,” Han murmured into the phone. “University campus, east side. She just exited Building C. Heading south.” 

Pause.

“No. Boss says let her walk. Tail her. We need a confirmed residence before anything else.”

He ended the call and turned back slightly. “She doesn’t even know what’s coming, huh?”

Seungmin’s gaze was razor sharp. “Not yet.”

From the driver’s seat, Minho glanced in the rearview mirror and smirked. “I gotta say, I didn’t think anyone could get under your skin like this. But here you are. Reckless, obsessed, and even more stubborn.”

Han crossed one leg over the other, still casual. Still light. “You’ve had senators beg for your favor. Rival bosses fear your name. But a girl reading in a café?”

Seungmin’s voice dropped to a cold murmur. “She made everything else disappear. Just for a second. I’ve never had that before.”

Han, the ever-loyal consigliere — second-in-command and Seungmin’s most trusted mind — finally sobered. He saw it now, the storm building in his boss’s eyes.

“Alright,” Han said, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve. “Then let’s do this right. Clean. Quiet. No mistakes.”

The rain had stopped, but the streets were still slick with its memory. You walked briskly, headphones in but music low, the weight of your backpack tugging against your shoulders with every step. A faint fog curled around the edges of the sidewalk as streetlamps flickered to life, casting long, lonely shadows.

At first, it felt like any other week night. You’d stayed late for a study session and were on your way back to your apartment. Tired. Hungry. Ready to collapse.

But then that feeling.

The kind you couldn’t quite place. A tingle along the back of your neck. That primal whisper in your bones that said you’re being watched.

You glanced behind you.

Nothing. Just a sleek black car parked down the block. Engine purring low. You thought you’d seen it earlier near the campus gates, but maybe you were imagining things. You weren’t used to this part of the city. Maybe it belonged to someone in one of the new apartment complexes.

Still.

You crossed the street.

And when you turned again, the car had moved. Just a few meters forward. Slow. Deliberate.

Your steps quickened. The car matched pace. That’s when your stomach twisted.

You tugged out your phone and pretended to answer a call. “Hey. Yeah, I’m almost home. Just two blocks away. Yeah, can you come down and meet me at the door?”

Your voice was loud. Sharp. A deterrent. But the car didn’t stop. From the backseat of that car, Seungmin watched. Silent. Focused.

“She’s smart,” Han muttered beside him. “Caught on faster than I expected.”

Seungmin didn’t respond.

He watched you turn again. Eyes scanning the street. Your chest rising just a bit too quickly. The panic blooming behind your calm façade. He could tell. And fuck, did it make him feel alive.

He had waited three goddamn months for this. Scoured the city, bribed officials, threatened civilians, pulled every string he had just to find a girl he knew for maybe thirty seconds.

But those thirty seconds had ruined him.

“Don’t grab her yet,” he said quietly.

Han blinked. “Why not? We know where she lives now. She’s vulnerable.”

Seungmin leaned forward slightly, his voice low. Controlled. Dangerous.

“She ran once. I want to see how far she thinks she can go before she breaks.

You didn’t look back again. You couldn’t. Your heart was hammering now, your legs carrying you faster than you thought possible, the edges of your vision blurring. You practically ran the final block, breath shallow, keys already clenched between your fingers like a makeshift weapon. Just in case.

And then someone grabbed you.

Not harshly. Not like you expected. Just a firm hand around your wrist, a second one over your mouth. The shock of it froze you. Then you thrashed.

You kicked, screamed into the palm muffling your voice, tried to bite, claw, anything—

But another set of hands caught you from behind.

“Careful,” a voice muttered near your ear. “She’s feisty.”

That unfamiliar voice was low, smooth. Tinted with casual amusement, like this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. Like this was just another Wednesday for him.

“I told you to bring the damn chloroform sooner,” another voice snapped. Cold. Dispassionate. Less amused, more… efficient.

Something sweet hit your nose. A soaked cloth pressed against your face. Your body instinctively struggled, adrenaline trying to fight the chemicals rushing through your system.

“Your apartment’s way out of the way, couldn't you just stay in the campus dorm, huh?” Han sighed. “Would’ve saved us the gas.”

You struggled weakly, everything swam and then the world blurred.

“Shut up,” Minho said flatly. “She’s out.”

Minho lifted you without a word, his arms steady as he carried your limp form towards the car parked a bit the building. Han walked in front and opened the backseat door. 

Inside, Seungmin was waiting.

The moment Minho leaned in and passed your unconscious body to him, Seungmin reached out, almost too quickly. His arms wrapped around you carefully, protectively, as if afraid you might vanish if he wasn’t gentle enough.

“You were real,” he whispered, watching you like a starved man. “God, you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

He was brushing the strands of hair from your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin like you were something sacred. His expression unreadable. Han closed the door behind them with a soft click.

Rain pattered on the roof. Inside, it was silent.

Seungmin leaned closer, his lips ghosting against your forehead—not quite a kiss. Almost reverent.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you,” he whispered.

One hand cradled the back of your head. The other traced the line of your jaw, feather-light.

“You disappeared like a dream that night,” he murmured. “But I’m done dreaming now.”

His voice was calm, steady, but something about it sent a chill down even Minho’s spine.

“Mine,” Seungmin whispered again. “Finally… mine.”

*********************

Your head pounded. The first thing you registered was the softness beneath you—silken sheets, a mattress far too plush to be your own. Then the light. Dim, golden, filtering through sheer curtains that danced lazily with the breeze.

You blinked groggily. Your limbs felt like they weighed a ton, but your heart quickened with the creeping realization that this wasn’t your room.

This wasn’t your home.

You sat up slowly, panic curling in your gut. The room around you was lavish—elegant, but unfamiliar. Marble floors, velvet drapes, carved furniture that looked too expensive to touch. A mansion.

Someone had taken you. You had been kidnapped.

Your hands trembled as you looked down—still wearing your shirt and jeans.No injuries. No bruises.

Suddenly, the door opened and a man stepped in like he owned the world. And he did. In a way. Dressed in a sharp dark suit over a shirtless vest in deep green marble-textured hue with a metallic sheen. His hair was neatly styled— parted slightly off-center with long, layered bangs that softly frame the face and sweep naturally across the forehead. His face wore a chilling calm. The kind that didn’t need anger to be terrifying. 

You knew that face. You’d seen it whispered about in headlines, splashed across grainy surveillance images and blurred news clips.

Kim Seungmin. The ghost in the criminal underworld. The youngest and most merciless of them all. The mafia prince with a smile that made people disappear.

Your blood ran cold. You tried to stand but stumbled.

"Don’t rush," he added, walking in like he owned the air you were breathing. "The drugs take a bit to wear off. It’s a custom blend. Just enough to keep you quiet. Not enough to hurt you."

He approached you slowly, his footsteps soft on the marble, his presence impossibly overwhelming. He sat beside you on the edge of the bed, not saying a word, and gently cupped your face in his hand.

That’s when you really saw him.

Seungmin's features were carved with precision. His skin was smooth and fair, glowing faintly in the golden light. His jawline was sharp and elegant, and his lips—soft, plush, and slightly parted—were tinged with an unreadable expression.

But it was his eyes that held you captive. Dark brown, deep like ink and impossible to read. They were cold, yet curious. Soft, yet calculating. They flicked across your face like he was memorizing it—committing it to his memory.

You noticed the tiny moles on his face— one on his left cheek and the other one on his nose, making him look even more endearing. 

You wanted to look away. You should’ve looked away.

But you didn’t.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low, smooth—like velvet laced with steel. “Good.”

Your pulse thundered. 

Seungmin tilted his head slightly, the barest smile pulling at his lips. “You’re scared. That’s good. Means you understand who I am.”

His fingers brushed your cheek with dangerous tenderness. His eyes were void of mercy. 

“You’re mine now,” Seungmin whispered. “I don’t share. I don’t let go. And I sure as hell don’t lose.”

You froze.

The chill in his voice laced with something darker than possessiveness—it was certainty. Finality. Like your fate had already been sealed the moment he laid eyes on you.

Seungmin took your wrist and then he brought your hand up to his chest, resting it over the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—tauntingly calm compared to your own frantic one.

“You feel that?” he murmured, eyes locked onto yours. “That’s how steady I stay… even when everything else burns.”

You turned your face away, jaw clenched. His proximity suffocated you—his expensive cologne, that quiet dominance in his posture, the way his eyes drank in your fear like it thrilled him.

“Why am I here? Why.… why did you take me?” you asked. “Why are you doing this? I didn’t do anything to you…”

“You did everything,” he said. “You stole from me.”

Your brows furrowed. “What…? I didn’t steal anything—”

“Yes, you did.” He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You stole my heart. You belong to me now.”

You went still.

“I don’t belong to you,” you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts. “You can’t just take people.”

He leaned in slowly, lips ghosting near your ear.

“I didn’t take you,” he breathed. “I claimed what’s mine.”

You trembled, torn between fury and fear. “No, please, let me go.”

A low chuckle escaped him, warm breath grazing your neck. “I’ve been searching the whole world for you, love.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes again, the cruel amusement fading, replaced by something far more dangerous—intent.

“Let you go?” He scoffed, “I had to find you. Had to dig through shadows, burn cities, turn every stone until I felt the ghost of your presence. You think that was easy?”

“Please,” you begged, your voice cracking. “Let me go.”

Seungmin’s gaze hardened, his stare now sharp as glass. “I’ll give you everything you could ever want,” he said, his tone softer, but colder. “But don’t mistake that for freedom. If you ever try to leave...” 

He let the words hang in the air, thick with threat, “I’ll make sure you forget what the outside world even feels like.”

You tried to push him away, but his hold only tightened.

Then, without warning, he kissed your temple. Soft. Almost loving. The contradiction made your skin crawl.

“Rest,” he said, guiding you back toward the bed like a twisted lullaby. “You’ll need your strength. There's so much I want to show you.”

And as he pulled the covers over you, like a lover might, he whispered once more—

“Everything you were before… is over. You're mine now.”

The door clicked shut behind him, the echo of his footsteps retreating down the marble corridor. Only then did your lungs finally expand in a full breath.

You sat upright, trembling beneath the weight of his words—You’re mine now.

The echo of that sentence coiled like barbed wire around your chest. A moment later, the door opened again.

But this time, it wasn’t him.

A woman stepped inside — middle-aged, expression blank. She wore a simple black uniform, the crisp white apron spotless. Her eyes didn’t meet yours as she silently walked over to the edge of the bed, setting down a folded dress of deep emerald silk beside you.

“You’re to wash and change,” she said in a clipped tone. Her voice held no emotion. “The master wants you presentable.”

You stared at her, your voice still unsteady. “Wait—please. Can you tell me—where am I? Why is he—why is this happening?”

But the woman had already turned.

“Please!” you tried again, louder. “Can you just help me—just tell me if someone is coming for me—”

She paused at the door but didn’t turn back. Her voice was low and eerily calm, “Don’t try to run. There are guards outside. They have orders.”

And then she left.

You scrambled from the bed and ran to the door, but the handle didn’t budge. Locked.

Just outside, you could hear faint murmurs—low, male voices. Guards. Just like she said.

You turned slowly, the room no longer luxurious but suffocating. A cage dressed in silk.

Your eyes dropped to the dress.

It shimmered faintly in the light. The fabric was soft to the touch, tailored perfectly to your size. You hadn’t told him your size.

He knew.

You swallowed hard, hugging your arms around yourself. Somewhere in this palace of quiet horror, Kim Seungmin was waiting. 

You paced the room like a caged animal. The dress lay untouched on the edge of the bed—silky, delicate, expensive. Just another reminder that you weren’t a guest here. You were a possession being wrapped up like a gift.

You’d tested the windows. Locked.

Tried the balcony. Too high up. No phone, no landline, not even a clock. The guards stationed outside your door hadn’t moved in hours. No way to slip past them, no chance to ask the maid anything—she’d disappeared before you even got a word out.

Your mind raced through escape plans, every single idea falling apart the moment it met the cold weight of reality.

You didn’t even hear the footsteps until the door slammed open.

Seungmin.

His presence sucked the air out of the room.

His dark suit’s jacket sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the veins in his forearms prominent as he pushed the door shut with a force that made the walls flinch.

"Why," he said slowly, his voice low and sharp as a blade, "are you still in those clothes?"

You froze, eyes widening as his gaze bored into you. The clothes you were wearing from the day before—had become a silent statement, a refusal to accept the reality he had forced you into. But now, with his anger simmering and his jaw clenched tight, you knew that defiance was no longer an option.

His voice lowered further, a quiet growl that sent a shiver down your spine. “I didn’t bring you here to have you walking around in those filthy things. Freshen up. You’ll wear the new clothes I had prepared for you. Now.”

Your heart raced. The last thing you wanted was to comply, but the tension in his voice made it clear that disobedience would come with consequences you weren’t ready to face.

“I give you comfort, safety, everything, and you can’t follow one simple instruction?” He snapped.

You stepped back as he strode forward, cornering you without touching you. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was a wall.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” he hissed, eyes narrowing. “Pacing like that. Looking at the window. You think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I just want to go home,” you snapped before you could stop yourself.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “This is your home now.”

Your fists clenched. “You’re insane.”

His lips curled into something between a smile and a snarl. “Maybe. But you’re still here. So what does that make you?”

He grabbed the dress and shoved it into your hands, gentler than you expected—but the threat in his voice was unmistakable.

“Put. It. On.”

Then he leaned in close, lips brushing against your ear again, the same way he had hours ago when he stole the ground from under your feet.

“If you ever want to walk through that door without chains on,” he whispered, “you better start learning how to play your part.”

And with that, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

You stood frozen for a few long seconds, heart hammering in your chest like it wanted to shatter your ribs. You realised you had no choice but to play along. For now.

You made your way to the en-suite bathroom. It was massive—gold-trimmed mirrors, a claw-foot tub, rainfall shower, the kind of place that felt too luxurious to be real. You stared at your reflection under the soft vanity light. Your skin looked dull. Eyes hollow. But there was a spark behind them. Defiance.

You carefully undressed, stepping into the steaming shower. Every movement calculated. You let yourself feel human again under the water—just for a moment. But even in there, your mind worked overtime.

There were no cameras in the bathroom, as far as you could see. No microphones either… you hoped. Maybe Seungmin thought you were too drugged, too scared, too broken to strategize.

Good. Let him think that.

Let him think you were weak.

When you stepped out, the emerald dress clung to your damp skin like liquid temptation. You fastened the clasp, staring at yourself again.

You looked like someone else. A doll. A bride dressed for a marriage you never consented to.

But your eyes were yours. Burning now.

Back in the bedroom, you scanned again. Window. Balcony. Furniture. You knelt beside the bed, ran your fingers along the underside of the frame. Nothing yet—but you’d keep checking. If there was a way out, you’d find it. And if not? You’d make one.

The guards were still posted outside. You tested the lock with a twist—it was electronic. Impossible to open without access.

But that meant something important: it could be hacked.

Your brain began mapping every possibility. All you needed was a device. A phone. A wire. A keyboard. Anything.

You sat down at the vanity table and opened the drawer. It was full of makeup products and accessories, but you weren't looking for lipstick or brushes. Your fingers trembled as you dug through the items, praying for something—anything—that could help you. Nothing.

*********************

You tried to escape two nights later.

The door hadn't been locked. You had waited—counting the seconds, memorizing the guards' rotation, mapping out the halls like your life depended on it.

And it did.

The moment the opportunity presented itself, you ran.

But you didn’t make it far. He was already there.

His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his posture was unmistakable. “You never learn, do you?” he muttered, his voice a low rasp that sent chills down your spine before he grabbed you by the waist and forced you into your room before throwing you back onto the bed with a force that stole the air from your lungs.

You screamed, kicked, scratched, fought with every ounce of strength you could muster.

“Let me go, you fucking asshole!” you cried out. “Let me go!”

He didn’t even flinch. With a calmness that made your skin crawl, he pinned your wrists above your head, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

And just like that, the storm inside you quieted—he had control. Again.

"You’re testing me," he growled, his grip tightening, "and I don’t think you want to see what happens when I’m truly tested."

Your heart raced, pulse thundering in your ears, but you met his eyes with all the defiance you had left.

“You’re disgusting,” you spat, words trembling with fury. “You’re sick.”

His face remained unchanged. The same icy calm.

“I let you breathe,” he whispered, leaning closer, his breath hot against your skin. “Let you sleep in silk. Treat you like a queen. And you still curse me?”

You could feel the heat of his proximity, his lips grazing the side of your jaw, sending a sickening thrill through your body.

His words came in a murmur, soft and deadly. “You’ll learn to love me,” he promised. “You will.”

*********************

The guards came twice a day—once in the morning, once before sunset. They never said a word. Their footsteps echoed against marble floors, and their eyes never left your face. Each tray of untouched food was replaced by a fresh one, steaming and seasoned, taunting you with the scent of meals you once loved. You didn’t eat. Not out of rebellion anymore—but because your stomach couldn’t bear to keep anything down.

Sometimes, you woke to the soft rustle of fabric at the foot of your bed—new clothes, pristine and folded with meticulous care. Dresses that shimmered like liquid gold, silks in soft pastels, heels you’d once admired in glass store windows.

Other mornings, it was flowers. Always your favorites. How did he know? The answer was simple. He had dug through your past and he used it against you.

He always came to see you in the mornings before leaving for work—and again at night.

Like some cruel tradition, he arrived after dark, just as the silence began to settle over your bones. You could feel him before you saw him—his presence thick in the air, like a storm waiting to strike. 

The fifth night, you cracked. 

You were shaking—cold, exhausted, hungry, and unraveling. Tears blurred your vision as you were curled up on the bed, knees drawn to your chest, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, when the door creaked open. You didn’t move. Not even when the sound of his shoes broke the quiet, soft against the carpeted floor.

Carrying a bowl of soup in one hand and a glass of water in the other. You sat on the edge of the bed, silent, unmoving.

“You look thinner,” Seungmin said, his voice calm, but with a weight beneath it. “Are you trying to punish me?”

You didn’t answer.

“I’m not playing with you anymore,” he said, placing the bowl on your bedside table. “You’re going to eat.”

You turned your head, “No.”

His jaw clenched. He took a deep breath, walked to your side, and crouched so your eyes were level.

“You haven’t eaten in five days!”

“Good.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up the spoon, scooped some soup, and held it out to you.

You stared at it, “I will spit it in your face.”

He said nothing. Just brought the spoon closer. You slapped it away. Hot broth spilled over your blanket, staining it. His eyes darkened.

“That’s enough.”

He moved faster than you could react—gripping your jaw tightly, prying your mouth open with terrifying precision.

“You don’t have to like it,” he said coldly. “But you will survive.”

The spoon came again. You turned your head. Fought. But he held you in place, firm and unyielding, forcing the liquid down your throat one spoonful at a time.

You coughed. Gagged.

Tears streamed down your cheeks—not from pain. Not even from fear. But from the helplessness.

When it was over, he wiped your chin gently with a napkin, then rose to his feet.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

You glared through your tears. He didn’t smile this time. He just left.

The next morning, you woke with a sharp sting in your arm. You groaned, instinctively trying to move—but your wrist tugged against a soft restraint. That’s when you saw it. A thin IV line trailing from your vein to a clear drip bag hanging beside your bed.

“What the hell—?”

“Don’t move too much,” came a calm, unfamiliar voice from the corner of the room.

You turned your head sharply.

A man stood there, clipboard in hand, white coat hanging open over all-black clothes. His face was calm. Hands gloved. Eyes unreadable.

“I’m Dr. Bang Christopher,” he said. “But you can call me Chan.”

“…His doctor?”

“Personal physician,” he corrected, walking over to check the IV. “You were dangerously dehydrated. Malnourished. Refusing food, I heard. So this was the next best solution.”

You yanked your arm again. “Take it out.”

He didn’t even blink. “I can’t.”

“Take it out!”

“I take orders from Mr Kim,” he said flatly, adjusting your pulse monitor. “Not you.”

You stared at him in horror. He looked back at you, then down at his notes.

“Don’t try to pull it out yourself. You’ll bleed.”

With that, he scribbled something, removed his gloves, and turned to leave. At the door, he paused.

“He cares for you, you know,” he said, without looking back. “As much as a man like him can.”

Then he was gone. Leaving you restrained, broken.

*********************

Seungmin came into your room again later at midnight. He crouched beside you, hands resting loosely on his knees. He studied you the way a collector might inspect a rare object—something precious, but already cracking.

“You’ve been here for a week,” he murmured. “And still, you fight me.”

Your eyes lifted, burning. “Because I’m not yours.”

Something in his jaw tensed. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You jerked away.

He sighed. “I’m not your enemy.”

That made you laugh—a bitter, broken sound.

“You kidnapped me,” you hissed. “You locked me up like a doll in a glass box and you expect gratitude?”

He tilted his head. “No. I expect understanding.”

“Understanding?” Your voice rose, wild with disbelief. “You think this is love?”

He was quiet for a moment.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that love can grow in strange places. Even in cages. Even in silence.”

You shook your head. “You’re insane.”

“And yet,” he murmured, leaning in, “you still look at me like you’re waiting for me to crack.”

He wrapped his arms around you as you resisted. But he held you tighter.

“I can wait,” he whispered. “I can wait longer than you can resist.”

“Let me go! Ple—please, just let me go!”

“You’re hurting yourself,” he whispered into your hair. “Stop. Please.”

You sobbed in his arms, trembling, hating yourself for how warm he felt. How safe. How his cologne smelled like cedar and regret and something that almost made you ache.

“I hate you,” you whispered. “I hate you, I hate you—”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek and stood up to leave. The door closed behind him with a click.

And you were alone again—with your breath quick, your fists clenched, and your fear folding itself into anger.

Just like that a month passed already.

You hadn’t said a word to him.

Not when he brought you new clothes. Not when he knocked. Not when he stood silently in the doorway, watching you with eyes full of something far too close to obsession.

You reluctantly ate food just enough to survive. Kept tearing the flowers he sent to shreds.

And when you looked up at the camera blinking red above your bed, you made sure he saw your middle finger.

Still, he never stopped watching.

He sent books. Jewelry. A bottle of expensive perfume you used to love.

All unopened. All untouched. You wouldn’t let him win.

Until that night.

You heard his footsteps before you saw him. Measured. Unhurried. Like he already knew how this would end.

The door creaked open. He stepped inside, and immediately, you knew.

Something was wrong.

He wasn’t composed like usual. He wasn’t cold or calculated. He looked... exhausted. Frustrated. Dangerous.

“You’re still doing this,” he said quietly, voice rough like he hadn’t spoken all day. “Still pretending like you hate me.”

You didn’t respond. Just glared at him from where you sat on the edge of the bed. He stepped closer.

“I’ve done everything for you,” he continued, his voice low, controlled—but trembling at the edges. “I found you. Brought you here. I gave you everything. And you act like I’m the villain.”

You stood up, slowly. “You are the villain.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”

“You kidnapped me. Drugged me. Threw me in a stranger’s house and tried to dress it up like a castle.” You shook your head, biting down the trembling in your throat. “That’s not love, Seungmin. That’s psychotic.”

He flinched at the word. Actually flinched.

You pushed further. “You want to keep me here like a doll in a cage, then go ahead. But don’t pretend it’s about love.”

He reached for you, sudden and sharp, grabbing your face in one hand. You gasped.

“Don’t ever call me that again,” he said, voice shaking now. “Don’t look at me like I’m a monster.”

“I don’t have to look at you like that,” you snapped, breath catching. “You are one.”

He stared at you—really stared. His expression was blank and cold.

“You’ll come around,” he said finally. “You’ll understand.”

“No,” you whispered, fury rising behind your ribs. “I will never understand this. I will never want you. I would rather die than love you.”

Something cracked. His hand dropped. He stepped back like your words had sliced him open. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then he turned to the guards at the door, voice ice.

“Don’t let her leave this room. Not unless she changes her mind.”

“Seungmin—” you began, but the door slammed behind him before you could finish.

And then there was silence.

You collapsed, back hitting the edge of the bed as your knees gave out. Tears gathered in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You were trembling, you were afraid and a heavy sigh escaped you as hopelessness settled in.

*********************

Crying had become a routine— not from fear. But from frustration. Because you deeply loathed him.

You hated the way he stared at you like you were his salvation and his possession. You hated the way his voice sank into your bones, the way he touched you like you’d shatter, the way your body had stopped resisting even when your mind still screamed.

You hated that no one was coming.

And worse, that a part of you had stopped hoping they would.

You curled under the sheets, fists clenched, teeth biting into your sleeve to muffle the sobs. Every shadow in the room felt like him. Every creak in the walls sounded like his footsteps.

You didn’t want to need him.

But your body was weak, your mind even weaker, and the isolation was breaking you apart thread by thread.

You thought of your family—did they even know you were missing? Were they looking for you? Had they given up?

The door creaked open. You didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. You already knew it was him.

Seungmin stepped inside slowly, quietly, like he’d done every night since you arrived. He sat at the edge of the bed without a word.

And you didn’t tell him to leave. He didn’t touch you. Didn’t say anything. He just sat there in the dark, a silent presence—watching, breathing, waiting.

Eventually, you rolled onto your back, your eyes meeting his in the low light.

“…I can’t escape, can I?”

His silence answered for him.

You swallowed hard, the bitterness lodged deep in your throat.

“I’m never getting out of here.”

Seungmin’s gaze softened—sad, gentle, but far from apologetic.

“No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.”

Your chest rose and fell slowly. Shallow breaths. Eyes dry now. You looked up at the ceiling. The moonlight washed over your face.

“…Fine.”

Your voice was hollow. A whisper of surrender. Not love. Not forgiveness. Not even understanding. Just the cold, empty truth. There was no escape. So you stopped trying.

And when Seungmin’s hand slowly reached for yours—this time, you didn’t pull away.

You didn’t hold it either.

You just let it happen.

Because maybe that was all you had left.

The next morning, Seungmin entered your room.

His day always started better when he saw you—still asleep, curled up beneath the soft sheets like something fragile and precious.

You didn’t stir when the door creaked open. He stepped inside quietly, like he always did, careful not to wake you. The sight of you—peaceful, unmoving—eased something deep in his chest.

You looked… soft today. Less angry. Less hollow.

He approached your bedside and crouched beside you, letting his fingers graze the blanket near your hand. Not quite touching. Just close enough to feel your warmth.

He’d memorized you like scripture—the way your breath hitched when you dreamed, the way your lashes fluttered just before you stirred, the way your fingers used to clench the sheets when he entered.

But now, they were still. You didn’t flinch anymore. That tiny shift meant everything.

Seungmin sat there for a moment longer, just watching. Admiring. Loving.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, voice barely above a breath. “Why don’t you see it, baby?”

He reached forward, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. You shifted slightly in your sleep but didn’t pull away. His hand lingered for just a second more before retreating, trembling with restraint.

You looked like peace.

But he knew the battle inside you hadn’t ended. Only changed shape.

Still… he could feel it. The quiet acceptance in the way you no longer resisted his presence. The way your body allowed his closeness. The way your fingers had once grazed his hand and didn’t pull away.

You hated him. He knew that. But in time, he would rewrite that hate. He would replace it—slowly, methodically—with something warmer. Something softer.

“You know me now,” he continued, his voice low, almost hypnotic. “You hate me but that’s also an emotion, right? You feel something for me.”

He stood, stealing one last look at you before leaving for the day. His heart ached, swollen with the weight of longing and victory.

You were still here. You hadn’t run. And last night, for the first time… you had let him hold your hand.

“You can deny it all you want,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with an undeniable certainty. “But we’re bound now. You’ll see.”

As he closed the door behind him, his lips curled into the faintest smile.

----------------

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[amphibiahawks321]

[Toko stands at a distance, eyes glued to Y/N as he talks to someone... Too close, too smiley and too... Handsy for her comfort]

[Toko's fingers twitching, gripping her sleeves and teeth sinking into her lip]

Toko : W-Why is she touching him like that?! I-it's very inappropriate!! H-He's mine! But–...He's just being nice–Ngh! And she's being too touchy—

[Suddenly, Toko's body jolts, and in the blink of an eye–

Syo : ALRIGHT, HANDSY BIMBO, SOON YOU'LL SMELL SOMETHING ELSE RATHER THAN YOUR CHEAP PERFUME!

[Syo immediately storms towards them, scissors in both hands, wild grin stretched across her face, her tongue out and eyes locked onto the girl]

....

[Meanwhile, with Y/N]

M!Reader : No prob! i–.....

[Y/N eyes widened, seeing Syo approaching behind the girl]

M!Reader : ...Oh boy–Sorry! Gotta go—Uhh–emergency!

[Y/N intercepts Syo before she gets TOO close, gently bringing her to a secluded room, gently placing a hand on her shoulder]

M!Reader : Syo, Hey, hey—look at me, feel breaths, nothing weird was happening, I was just helping her with class notes

Syo : WHA–but!–... Groans... Sighs... Why do you gotta be so calm and sweet, huh? You know I can't stay mad at you~

[Y/N Sighs in relief, as he finally got her under control... For now–

M!Reader : Chuckles... Now how about we go get some lunch instead of starting a crime scene—.....!!?

[Y/N felt a pair of Syo's hands holding onto both his cheeks, and leans his face towards her in an instant]

M!Reader blushing : ....What are you doing–

Syo : You really think I'm just gonna let you go after you just drag me to a private room room!~

M!Reader blushing : ....Oh boy–

[An hour later, Y/N is seen walking out of the room with spiral eyes, blushing, panting and his neck covered in wide hickies]

(Art by @charmy-s-thing)

[robinminustherichard]

♔ : Finding the other wearing their clothes

Haha ignore the fact that this took like 3 weeks. Have a kid!fic to make up for it :) thanks for the prompt pal :)))) @officialwaterchuck

Buck wakes to sunshine peaking through the curtains, the other side of the bed gone cold, and soft noises coming from the kitchen.

He smiles when he imagines what waits for him as he stretches and gets up, sliding the curtains open all the way and seeing Honey in the yard staring intently at a squirrel running along the fence, wagging her tail happily.

Buck takes a moment to feel the sun on his face, feel the slight ache in his lower back, sink into being well rested.

Forty, he thinks. I'm forty today.

Hearing a clang coming from the kitchen, Buck chuckles and figures it's time to go see what's been happening while he slept.

Making his way downstairs, he hears Honey duck through the doggy door, clanging and woofing quietly. She comes to a stop as he rounds the corner, licking at his hand in greeting.

"Hey, Honey," Buck says, crouching to rub his hands on either side of her face and getting rapid licks across his nose as thanks. He laughs, "Okay, okay girl. Good morning to you, too."

He gets up, steadfastly ignoring the way both his knees and at least one ankle crack, and finishes his trek to the kitchen. When he arrives, he sets a hip and leans his head against the doorway, struck by the sight in front of him. Tommy's back is to him, quietly talking and explaining what seems to be step-by-step instructions on how to make pancakes.

Graham is next to him, stood on a chair and leaned over the counter with both hands splayed out for balance, listening intently and asking if he can stir.

"Sure, sweetheart. You're the best stirrer in the house." Tommy says, sliding the bowl to Graham and reaching over to grab at his hips to steady him as he stirs.

"The best?" Graham asks, looking up at Tommy and not quite noticing when the bowl starts to slide away from his stirring. Tommy smoothly moves the bowl back with one hand and smiles at Graham.

"The absolute best. No contest."

After a moment, Buck blinks and realizes that Tommy's got one of Buck's shirts on, stretching across his shoulders. Graham is wrapped in a too-big practice jersey from Hershey high school. Both have "BUCKLEY" in cracked and peeling vinyl across the back.

In marriage and fatherhood, Buck has found, there are moments where love for his family fills him up so full that he doesn't know what to do with all of it. He pushes off the doorway and quietly stalks toward them, slipping his arms around Tommy when he arrives. Tommy doesn't even jump, because in all this time Buck hasn't once managed to surprise him, but when Buck speaks he does get a surprised shout out of Graham.

"Stretching the shoulders out in my shirts again, Mr. Buckley-Kinard?"

Graham looks excited enough to jump out of his skin, and Tommy chuckles. Before he can give Buck another huffy 'our shoulders are the same size, Evan' lecture, Buck gives him a kiss on the back of the neck and turns to their son.

"It's Daddy Evan Day!" Graham cries, "Are you suprised?"

Evan feels choked for a moment, floored by Daddy Evan. Up until now, Buck and Tommy had only been Evan and Tommy to Graham; only 8 months out from hid adoption. He looked at Tommy, who just had a soft smile on his lips.

"Yeah, bud. I'm so surprised. I didn't know about D-daddy Evan Day." Buck says enthusiastically, happy that he only stumbles a bit over the word. He smiles at Graham and reaches over for a hug. Graham returns it happily.

"Daddy Tommy said that t-today is your birthday, and that makes it Daddy Evan Day! So we gotta dress like Daddy Evan and make pancakes and do what-whatever Daddy Evan wants to do that day!"

Buck picks Graham up and set him on his hip, grinning widely. He can't help but be hopelessly charmed by Graham's slight stutter; more so than he ever was by his own.

"Well, that sounds like a pretty good day to me. But I might need some help deciding what to do after pancakes. Maybe you could help me choose."

"Um..." Graham says, looking away and suddenly shy. Buck waits him out, encouraging him to think about it. "Um, one time on T-TV I saw someone go to the 'quarium for thier birthday."

Buck smiles, indulgent, and looks at Tommy.

"What do you think, Daddy Tommy?" Buck says, and he sees the way Tommy's eyes soften even more at the sight of them. "Pancakes then the aquarium?"

"I think that's a great idea," Tommy tells them, turning back to finish stirring the pancakes. Buck sees that he has the griddle out and pre-heating.

"Graham, want to help me set the table and get drinks?" Buck asks, setting Graham down on the floor. He gets and enthusiastic 'yeah!' and he guides Graham over to the cabinet, handing him down the lighter plastic plates to take to the table.

Graham looks up at him then, looking contemplative.

"Daddy Evan?"

"Yes, Graham?" Buck says, reaching over to grab three glasses and forks.

"How old are you?"

"Today I turn forty years old."

Graham's eyes go wide at that and Buck has to hold in a laugh.

"W-whoa!" Graham cries, "you're really old!"

Tommy cackles from the other side of the kitchen and Graham smiles shyly, pleased that he made Tommy laugh.

"Yeah, that's pretty old." Buck agrees, beginning to shepard them towards the dining room.

"Daddy Tommy must be like sev'ty then!" Graham cries as he marches toward the table. Buck finally cracks at that, the sound of his laugh clashing with Tommy's indignant sqwak.

"I'm only forty-eight!" Tommy says, shouting to be heard over Buck's continous laughter. "Just because Daddy Evan gave me all of these gray hairs does not mean I'm ancient, kid."

When Buck arrives to the table, the plates are already set out and Graham is hiding around the doorway, listening to Tommy talk and giggling with his hands over his mouth. Buck puts his own cargo down and crouches down to look at Graham, taking in his red cheeks and shining eyes. Honey has come in to see the commotion and is wagging her tail on the ground next to him. He's a far cry from the scared boy they fostered over a year ago.

"Daddy Evan I got a secret," he says between giggles. Buck is so thoroughly charmed he can't do anything but smile, "I knew you were, were forty. Ch-chimney told me yesterday to say Daddy Tommy was sev'ty!" He breaks into peels of high-pitched laughter and Buck doesn't even feel it when his smile grows impossibly wider.

"That's a pretty good one, Graham." Buck says, looking up when Tommy enters, hands on his hips and sighing dramatically at them.

"I think I'm just too ancient to cook these pancakes!" Tommy cries, flopping down into a chair and pretending to fall asleep. Buck smiles when Graham giggles and runs over to pull on Tommy's hand.

"No, Daddy T-Tommy! We gotta make pancakes f'r Daddy Evan Day!" Graham cries, yanking on Tommy's arm with all the strength of a five year old. Tommy peaks an eye open before letting out a yawn and reaching both arms around to grab Graham and pick him up, giggles following the movement as Graham ends up slung over one shoulder.

"Well, I think I need a young and strong assistant chef to help!" Tommy cries, taking long strides into the kitchen.

Buck stands as they go, and he's sure that he's going to have the sound of their laughter mixing together on repeat in his head for days to come.

Forty, he thinks, sitting down and watching Tommy plop Graham on the counter and safe distance from the griddle. His strong shoulders are gentle as they work to pour pancake batter, "BUCKLEY" flashing across them. Next to him, Graham twists on the counter and Buck sees the "BUC-" there too.

Honey comes over and sets her head on his knee, Buck gives her a smile and buries a hand in her fur.

Forty isn't so bad.

[linxnnalyn]

Ah I see !! So sorry for not being too descriptive last time and thank you for answering anyways !!! winkwink💫

Can you make a rockstar fem!mydei x fem!reader and they are in an established relationship, where the setting takes place after one of Mydei's performances and reader comes to the backstage to help Mydei cool off, whether it'd be giving her a cool glass of water to stay hydrated at all times ofc, or a little massage on the shoulders for the beloved hihiy, or just the comfortable silence of one another's presence. Buuutt oh! All that turns into something more heated after 1, 2, 3, or, 6, or whatever counts of kisses that reader playfully gives to mydei. And Mydei pins reader onto the couch just like that to have her turn! actually now that we're already on this track... Can she eat us out already ◉⁠‿⁠◉

Alrrright, I think that wraps it up. Up to you if you still want to write it or not you've got the skills yourself !!! Thank you again, I LOVE YOUR WRITING NEVER TURN INTO A CLOCK (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)♡

Fem! Rockstar! Mydei cooling off with her fem! S/O

࣪𖤐.ᐟ note -> I love this idea very much! And i'm glad you like my writing—WAIT, NO I'M TURNING INTO A CLOCK—poof, Artemis turns into a clock.

࣪𖤐.ᐟ warnings -> NSFW.

࣪𖤐.ᐟ content includes -> fluff and nsfw, post-performance, soft teasing kisses, pinning down, hickeys/bite marks, eating out, might be OOC sorry.

۫ ꣑ৎ Mydei was exhausted after the performance. She sat in the dressing room, her body sweaty from all the singing and playing. Mydei could still hear her fans from the outside but she tried to block the noise out. Mydei likes her fans but she’s too exhausted to deal with them now, just wanting to cool off a bit.

۫ ꣑ৎ She can't help but smile, loosening under your touch and closing her eyes as she felt your arms around her, gently kissing her temple and offering her some water and food. Mydei is not the type to ask for comfort, but her body leans toward you instinctively. When it is just the two of you she’s not Mydei the rockstar, but just your girlfriend.

۫ ꣑ৎ Mydei is touch-starved in a way that she never admits—not in interviews, not in lyrics, not even in journal pages. But with you, she lets it show. The way her fingers linger against your waist when she pulls you close, or how her head always finds a home on your shoulder. She’s subtle in public, but in private she clings to you like a lifeline.

۫ ꣑ৎ She likes holding you after an intense performance and letting you take care of her. She likes it when you massage her tense, exhausted shoulders, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of you. You would also remind her to drink some water, even willing to force the liquid down her throat which she finds funny.

۫ ꣑ৎ Mydei can’t help but chuckle as you are sitting in her lap, prepping her face in gentle kisses while praising her with compliments. Her hands are wrapped around your waist as you mumble how hot she looks when she’s on stage and the way her arms flex while playing, Mydei knows the affects her muscles have on you.

۫ ꣑ৎ Out of nowhere she flips you around, pinning you on the couch. Mydei finds the flustered look on your face so fucking cute she could just eat you up. And she plans on doing just that! But first she has to tease you a bit by kissing you until you are out of breath and filling your neck and shoulders with hickeys and bite marks.

۫ ꣑ৎ Soon enough Mydei is on her knees in front of the couch and in between your legs, easily spreading your thighs with her large, tough hands. The two of you haven’t been able to spend much time together the past few weeks so now that she finally got her hands on you Mydei isn’t planning on letting you get away anytime soon.

۫ ꣑ৎ She would tease you by trailing kisses on your thighs, nibbling at your skin as she looks at you straight in the eye, a small smirk on her face from how red and flustered your face is. Even though she can’t wait to eat you out, she takes her time.

۫ ꣑ৎ And when Mydei does start eating you out? She’s pussy drunk. Mydei is obsessed with eating you out, eating you out like a starving woman who’s eating her last meal. Mydei feels like she’s on cloud nine when she’s between your legs, eating you out like a full course meal.

۫ ꣑ৎ She feels like she could stay in between your legs for the rest of eternity, fully drunk on your moans and juices. Mydei doesn’t care if you’re pulling her hair and are being a bit too loud, she’s too focused on pleasing you and giving you mind shattering orgasams one after the other while tasting you like you’re the finest meal there is.

[chrisbesitos]

"i don't think you're being far, matt." you say, sounding like a whisper. you're sitting on the corner of the bed, hugging your own body. you avoid stare at his eyes, he's mad at you and for a ridiculous reason. you hate when matt's mad at you, even more when he acts like you don't know what you're doing with your life.

"y/n, i told you to stay away from chris! he's not the type of guy that you should hang out with."

"i wasn't hanging out with him! i told you, but you don't listen to me." you huff, crossing your arms. you're starting to feel angry, feeling your eyes getting glassy. "i was with mia, she left and a guy tried to kiss me. chris helped me, just this."

"just this?" matt asks, clearly insinuating something more. you're done with him. he knows he's mad, because he knows his brother is a 'menace', but so tired of him accusing you of doing things you clearly didn't. matt's your best friend, he knows you really well, but he has no right to do what he's doing right now.

"this is what you thought about me?" you ask, clearly offended. matt expression softed, noticing he took too far. you shake your head, lifting from the bed and walking towards the door. "i thought you trusted me more, matt." you say, disappointed.

you walk out of the room, practically running towards the stairs to get out of the house. you open the front door and bump into someone, you didn't notice, because your eyes are so full of tears, that you can't see clearly. chris was getting into the house, he arrived after work, when you bump into him. he steps back, blinking his eyes, you're crying?

"are you blind, kid?" chris asks, tilting his head to see you better. you sniff deep and clean the tears in your cheeks, you shake your head and clear your eyes, seeing chris in front of you.

"i'm sorry, i didn't see you." you whisper. "hm, bye." you try to pass through chris, but he holds your arm and stops you.

"what happened, hm?" chris asks, raising his eyebrows. you shake your head, trying to go away, but chris insists. you sit on the stairs, resting your elbows on your knees, chris sits besides you, leaning his head to look at you better. "you're crying, why?"

"it's stupid."

"then, tell me."

why does he care?, you sigh.

"me and matt, we argued. he accused me of things." you say, playing with your fingers. you feel your eyes tearing again. chris sighs, he shakes his head. "things that i would never do."

"he's an asshole." chris groans. "why does he accuse you?"

"because of you." you murmur. "he doesn't want me to be around you." and you look at chris.

chris looks at you, staring at your teary eyes. he doesn't know what to say, he kinda knows why matt told you this, but he didn't have to be rude with you. because if you are crying, he clearly was mean with you. a tear roll down, you look down, chris doesn't hesite and cleans the tear, you lift your head and stare at chris. you both doesn't say anything, because you both don't know what to say. you try to open a smile, but ended looking like a grimace, your lips trembled and you lean down, resting your head on chris' lap.

chris widens his eyes, lifting his arms, trying to not touch you. he doesn't know how to act, you're crying on his lap and he's not used to dealing with this. chris, hesitantly, relaxes his arms and gently rests them around you. he brushes his fingers on you hair, still too much shocked. eventually, you stop crying and lift your head, cleaning your face with your hands. chris doesn't say anything, neither you.

you open your mouth to say something, but you give up. you lift from the stairs and start to walk, making your way to your house. chris stays on the stairs, feeling a weird sensation inside his chest, at some point he opens a small smile.

© chrisbesitos.

[tinylilacbun]

can you write one where little! reader is being extra bratty and fussy today and rafe has had enough and puts her in time out and threatens with another punishment or something but then sofia notices that the readers cheeks are all flushed and she’s curling up like she’s cold and sofia takes her temperature and she’s like “that’s why you’ve been fussy, you’re sick” and then rafe feels awful about punishing little! reader?

i love your stuff!

You already woke up with an attitude and a slight pounding head, not wanting to change out of your jammies at first, then you didn't want to eat breakfast, later on as you're relaxing on the couch you whine when Rafe turns the TV off and claims that you should go find some other kind of entertainment because you've been watching cartoons for a while now.

"Don' wanna." You huff, moving onto your stomach to hide your face in the cushions. "Wanna watch movie."

"And I want you to go do something else." He says, placing the remote on a high surface you can't reach. "Or I'll take you upstairs to nap, your choice."

"Noooo!" You whine, kicking your legs in frustration as your body starts to heat up again.

"Listen, I've been real patient with you today, so if you don't change your attitude right now I'll-" He warns you, pointing a finger at you as you suddenly say something he never thought you would dare to, especially while being little.

"Shut up..." You mumble but Rafe heard you crystal clear.

"What did you just say?" He asks, his eyes narrowing as he takes a few steps closer to where you're laying. "Care to repeat that, young lady?"

You sit up on the couch, glaring at him defiantly. "I saids shut-"

Before you can even finish Rafe's hand shoots out to grab your wrist, pulling you up to stand in front of him, towering over you. "If you're not sitting in the corner in the next ten seconds, I'll make sure you won't be able to sit for a damn week."

You gulp, quickly regretting your choice of words even though you can't help it with how you're feeling right now.

Rafe doesn't even notice your flushed cheeks or how warm your skin feels, too infuriated with your behavior to catch onto it.

When he lets go, you pad over to the corner, plopping down on the ground and face the wall, only hearing Rafe's footsteps disappear to what you can only assume must be the kitchen.

On his way there he crosses paths with Sofia who just finished taking a shower, her hair still slightly damp as she places her hand on his bicep to stop him. "What happened?" She asks, nodding towards you sitting in time out.

"What's been going on the whole day and I'm tired of it. She's in time out for how long I see fit." He explains, almost relaxing when she stands up on her toes to kiss his jaw.

"Okay, I'll try and talk to her." She says, making her way to where you are leaning with your side against the wall, your body shivering as she kneels on the ground beside you. "Angel?"

You don't respond, feeling too nauseous to even move a muscle and only answer with a quiet whimper.

"Hey..." She coos, taking a better look at your face, her brows furrowing with concern as she notices how flushed your face is and the way your eyes flutter close from time to time. "Are you alright, sweetie?"

She reaches out to feel your forehead, then moves her hand to your cheek and the back of your neck, frowning as she realizes why you've been behaving differently all day.

"Oh, baby, that's why you're so fussy, hm? You have a fever." She observes, moving some of your hair from your face, calling out for Rafe.

"What?" He asks with slight irritation, entering the living room again and sees how Sofia helps you to stand up on rather shaky legs. "Babe, I just told-"

"She's sick." She quickly retorts, leading you back over to the couch and makes sure you lay down comfortably, grabbing a blanket and drapes it over your shivering body.

Rafe's whole mood shifts from frustrated to slight guilt, rubbing the back of his neck as he finally sees in what state you're actually in, watching Sofia tucking you in and standing up again. "Mama is getting you some medicine, okay?"

You just nod in response, wrapping the blanket more around yourself as she walks off to get everything you might need right now.

Rafe eventually moves over to you, sitting down next to you he lets out a sigh as you shuffle to snuggle against his side, wrapping an arm around your body to keep you close.

"I should've noticed sooner..." He mutters mostly to himself, feeling your forehead with his other hand.

You only hum, closing your eyes as your cheek is smushed on his stomach. A few minutes later Sofia returns, carrying a tray with medicine, some soup, your favorite stuffie, and a pacifier in case you regress even smaller.

She smiles at the sight of you and Rafe cuddling, knowing how sorry he must feel, he doesn't even need to say it as his actions speak volumes, the way he holds you and rubs your back, whispering sweet nothings to you.

[wistful-poet00]

fem!bunny hybrid x fem!reader, smut, wlw.

the woods had grown silent, except for the occasional hoot of an owl and the steady thud of your heartbeat. you settled into your tent for the night, nestled in your sleeping bag, warm and relaxed... until that sound. A faint rustle. A snap. then... a whimper. not animalistic, too soft, too human.

your body tensed.

curiosity and something deeper nudged you toward the source. you unzipped the tent slowly and stepped out into the cool night. that's when you saw her.

crouched under a tree, curled into herself like a frightened animal. her long fluffy ears drooped, her body trembling. a bunny-hybrid. fragile. gorgeous. practically glowing under the moonlight.

you approached cautiously, then gently rested your hand on her quivering shoulder. she flinched and turned, eyes wide. when her gaze met yours, she whimpered again.

"p-please... help me," she squeaked, voice high and trembling with need.

your breath caught. "what's wrong?"

she hesitated, her cheeks darkening with shame. "I... I'm in heat."

that admission hit you low in your belly.

she shifted, thighs squeezing together, her voice almost a whine now. "It hurts. I can't think- I can't breathe. I’ve been like this for hours-"

you knelt before her, brushing her hair away from her flushed face. "you poor thing," you whispered, letting your fingers trail down her arm. "you’ve been suffering all alone?"

she nodded, eyes filling with tears, not just from discomfort, but desperation.

"I need to be touched.. need relief.. I don't care who, I just- please. I'll be your pet. your toy. anything."

your breath caught again, sharper this time. she was so needy it was almost pathetic and god, you loved it.

you cupped her face gently and tilted her head up. "look at you, begging so sweetly. do you want me to take care of you, bunny?"

she nodded frantically. "yes. yes—please."

you pushed her back against the soft forest floor, her thighs parting instinctively beneath you. she was panting now, desperate, her hips lifting to grind against nothing.

"you're dripping.." you murmured, dragging your fingers down to trace the wet clothed heat between her legs. she gasped, a soft, broken sound that made your own pulse stutter, heat pooling in your stomach.

"I'll make it better, baby.. but you're gonna thank me properly, aren't you?"

"y-yes, ma'am," she moaned, the title slipping out naturally, submissively.

you leaned down, lips brushing her ear as you whispered, "good girl."

and then you undressed her, and soon enough your mouth was on her, tongue and fingers working in harmony while she writhed beneath you, crying out with every wave of relief that tore through her heat-flooded body. her fingers tangled in your hair, her thighs clamped around your head, and still—still—she begged for more.

"don't stop, please. I need to be ruined.."

you smiled against her skin. "oh, sweetheart... we’re just getting started."

[trippiexlove]

Story Masterlist

Main Masterlist - if you would like to be added to my tag list comment below. Have a request? Click on this link to drop it ☺️ ENJOY!

Previous Part

Ch.3

The automatic doors of the hospital hissed open, releasing a wave of antiseptic air that usually signaled the start of Evren's eventful day. Today, however, a knot of unease tightened in her chest as she swiped her badge and headed towards the familiar bustle of the nurses' station.

"Morning, sis," Zahria chirped, already immersed in charting but glancing up with a warm smile. "Ready for another day of saving lives?"

Evren managed a weak smile in return, the earlier anticipation for her work already beginning to fray. "Morning. Hopefully, it'll be more saving lives and less getting harassed by Dr. Rhodes."

"Don't count on it," Zahria chuckled knowingly. "He looked like a thundercloud brewing when you left the other day."

"Tell me about it," Evren sighed, her gaze drifting towards the posted surgical schedule. It was routine to check her assignments first thing. Her eyes scanned the list, finally landing on her name next to a complex laparoscopic cholecystectomy she'd been prepping for all week. A small surge of professional satisfaction flickered, only to be extinguished as she noticed another name scrawled over hers: Martinez, P.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She reread the schedule, double-checking the date and the patient's name. It was the same surgery. Why had she been taken off?

"Something wrong?" Zahria noticed Evren's perplexed expression.

"I was supposed to be on this cholecystectomy," Evren said, pointing to the schedule. "I prepped the patient yesterday and everything."

Zahria leaned closer, her own brow creasing. "Really? I didn't hear anything about a change in staffing." She glanced around the busy station. "You think Rhodes did this?"

But Evren's gut churned with a unsettling feeling. This wasn't a typical last-minute shuffle. It felt pointed. She remembered Dr. Rhodes's forced smile and the dismissive tone he'd adopted after she'd rejected his dinner invitation. A cold realization began to dawn.

"I'm going to check the assignment board in the OR," Evren said, a newfound resolve hardening her voice. She needed to know what was going on. As she walked away, Zahria's concerned gaze followed her, a silent acknowledgment of the brewing storm. The familiar energy of the hospital now felt charged with a subtle, personal antagonism, casting a shadow over the start of Evren's day.

The sterile, cool air of the OR floor offered no comfort as Evren scanned the assignment board. Just as at the nurses' station, her name was conspicuously absent from the cholecystectomy list, replaced by Pamela Martinez. A knot of frustration tightened in her chest. This wasn't a mistake; it was deliberate.

She found Dr. Rhodes in the doctors' lounge, leaning against the counter, a half-empty mug of coffee in his hand and a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he scrolled through his phone.

"Dr. Rhodes," Evren began, her voice carefully neutral despite the simmering anger within her.

He looked up, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Oh, Evren. Good morning. Something I can help you with?" His tone was overly casual, a subtle power play.

"Yes. I noticed I was taken off the schedule for the laparoscopic cholecystectomy today," She subtly raised her eyebrow "I was under the impression I'd be assisting."

Dr. Rhodes took a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to her, feigning nonchalance. "Ah, yes. There was a slight change in staffing. Melanie needed the experience."

"But I've been prepping for this case all week," Evren pointed out, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. "I reviewed the patient's history, gathered the necessary equipment..."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Of course, Evren, and I appreciate your initiative. But sometimes, these things happen. We need to be flexible in a dynamic environment like the OR."

His explanation felt flimsy, a transparent excuse. "And what will I be doing instead?" she pressed.

He finally met her eyes, and the subtle shift in his expression confirmed her suspicions. There was a glint of something akin to triumph in his gaze. "Well, we need someone to meticulously review the post-operative charts in the ICU. The lab is backed up, so your assistance with morning blood draws would be invaluable. Efficient patient care is paramount, after all." 

Evren stared at him, a wave of disbelief washing over her. Chart reviews and blood draws were tasks typically assigned to new nurses or those with less experience in the OR. It was a clear demotion, a pointed message.

"With all due respect, Dr. Rhodes," she said, her voice now edged with a steeliness he couldn't ignore, "those tasks are well below my current responsibilities and skill level."

He chuckled softly, a condescending sound that grated on her nerves. "Nonsense, Evren. Every task is important in patient care. It's about being a team player, wouldn't you agree? Besides," he added, his gaze lingering on her a moment too long, "it's a good opportunity to... broaden your horizons."

The thinly veiled insinuation hung in the air. He was making it clear that her refusal had consequences, and he was enjoying wielding his authority.

Evren clenched her fists subtly at her sides. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her anger. She turned to leave, the weight of his petty retaliation settling heavily on her shoulders. 

As she walked away, she could feel his gaze on her back, a silent, arrogant smirk that fueled her resolve to document every single instance of his unprofessional behavior. This wasn't just about a surgery anymore; it was about respect and her professional integrity.

~Later That Day~

The discourse of the hospital cafeteria was a familiar lunchtime hum, a mix of clattering trays, muffled conversations, and the insistent beeping of a nearby microwave. Evren sat across from Zahria and Kim, the lukewarm pasta salad on her tray largely untouched. She'd recounted the morning's events, the dismissive conversation with Dr. Rhodes replaying in her mind like a broken record.

Zahria's usual bright demeanor was clouded with indignation. "That entitled-I can't believe he actually said that! Taking you off a surgery you were prepped for just because you won't go out with him."

Kim, a petite woman with a no-nonsense attitude honed by years of navigating the hospital's social and professional landscape as Dr. Orton's wife, listened intently, her brow furrowed. "He specifically told you to do charts and blood draws?"

Evren nodded, picking at a piece of lettuce. "Word for word. Said it was about being a 'team player' and 'broadening my horizons' The condescension was dripping off him."

"Oh, I've seen that charming side of Cody before," Kim said, a hint of steel in her voice. "Randy's had a few run-ins with him over the years. His daddy poured a lot of money into this hospital. He's got a Napoleon complex the size of Texas."

"It's just so frustrating," Evren sighed, finally putting her fork down. "I feel like he's deliberately trying to make me feel incompetent. And it's working, a little. I keep second-guessing myself."

Zahria reached across the table and squeezed Evren's hand. "Don't let him get to you, girl. You're one of the best nurses in the OR. Everyone knows it. This is just him throwing a tantrum because you wouldn't go to dinner with his creepy ass."

"But what do I do?" Evren asked, her voice laced with uncertainty. "If I go to HR, it'll be my word against his. He's been here longer, he's a surgeon, his dad donated millions.. they'll take his side."

Kim leaned forward, placing a hand on one of Evren's, her expression serious. "That's what he wants you to think. But you're not powerless here, Evren. Zahria's right, you need to document everything. Every task he assigns that's below your level, every condescending remark, the dates and times. Build a solid record."

"And talk to other nurses," Zahria added. "Has he pulled this kind of crap with anyone else?"

Evren thought for a moment. "I've heard whispers... a few of the younger nurses have mentioned feeling uncomfortable with his attention, but no one's ever filed a formal complaint."

Kim nodded. "That's often the case. People are afraid of retaliation. But if you have a solid record, and if others are willing to corroborate... it strengthens your case significantly."

"Randy always says, 'Sunlight is the best disinfectant,'" Kim continued. "The more you bring it out into the open, the harder it is for people like him to operate in the shadows. And honestly, Evren, what he's doing isn't just unprofessional, it could be bordering on harassment."

Evren felt a flicker of hope ignite within her. She wasn't alone in this. "So, you think I should really consider going to HR?"

Kim exchanged a look with Zahria. "At the very least, get your ducks in a row. Document everything. Talk to HR and see what their procedures are. You don't have to file a formal complaint immediately, but knowing your options is important. Don't let him bully you into silence."

Zahria chimed in, her usual fiery spirit returning. "Yeah, screw that guy. We got your back, Evren. You're not going through this alone."

A small, genuine smile finally touched Evren's lips. Knowing she had the support of her friends made the daunting prospect of confronting Dr. Rhodes a little less terrifying. The untouched pasta salad still sat before her, but the knot of anxiety in her stomach had loosened slightly, replaced by a burgeoning sense of resolve.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway seemed to hum a weary tune, mirroring Evren's exhaustion. She swiped her badge, the green light a small victory signaling the end of a frustrating day. Just as she was about to push through the automatic doors leading to the outside, a familiar voice drawled from behind her.

"Leaving so soon, Evren? I thought you were enjoying your... varied tasks today."

Dr. Rhodes leaned against the wall, a smug look on his face, Icy blue eyes staring at her, clearly fishing for a reaction.

Evren turned, meeting his gaze with a stoic expression. She refused to let him see the turmoil his actions had caused. "Dr. Rhodes." Her tone was flat, devoid of any emotion he could latch onto.

His smile tightened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features at her lack of reaction. "Such dedication to the mundane. It's admirable." He paused, waiting for her to rise to the bait.

Evren simply nodded curtly. "Night, Dr. Rhodes." She turned again and walked towards the exit, leaving him standing there, his attempt at provocation falling flat.

Outside, the cooler evening air was a welcome change. Zahria was waiting near the doors, scrolling through her phone.

"Hey, you good?" Zahria said, looking up with a smile. 

Evren let out a long breath. "You have no idea. But at least it's over."

"Did he say anything else to you?" Zahria tilted her head, her eyes full of concern.

Evren nodded grimly. "Oh yeah, just now but I didn't give him a reaction. The man is unbelievably petty."

Zahria's jaw tightened. "I swear, one of these days..."

Evren chuckled humorlessly. "Save your energy. Y'all gave me some good advice at lunch. I'm going to start documenting everything."

"Good," Zahria clapped her on the shoulder. "you got this"

They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments towards the parking lot.

"Well," Zahria said, stopping at her car, "I'm heading this way. You good to drive home?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just tired."

"Alright. Text me later, let me know how you're doing. And if you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate."

"Thanks, sis. I will." Evren gave her a small hug before heading to her own car.

The aroma of sesame chicken and fried rice filled Evren's cozy room. Curled up in bed in an oversized shirt, the remnants of her takeout containers on the nightstand, she finally felt a semblance of relaxation. Her phone buzzed with a new message.

From: Fatu, Joshua #1759 How was your day, ma? Hope it was better than mine 

Evren hesitated for a moment before typing her reply, deciding to confide in him.

To: Fatu, Joshua #1759 It was frustrating. My work was made unnecessarily difficult by someone being petty and vindictive. Thank God I am off for a couple days

A few minutes later, his reply came.

From: Fatu, Joshua #1759 Damn, I'm sorry to hear that ma. You wanna talk about it? 

Evren took a deep breath and began to type, the words flowing more easily than she expected. She recounted the events of her day, Dr. Rhodes's behavior, and her feelings of being undermined. When she finished, she simply sent it, a sense of vulnerability washing over her.

The reply came quickly, and it was different from his usual straightforward tone.

From: Fatu, Joshua #1759 That's fucked up. You don't deserve to be treated like that. It says a lot more about him than it does about you. Remember that. You're strong and you're good at what you do. Don't let some insecure mf dim your light. If I was there, I'd- never mind we not even gon' get into that. Just know say the word and I got you.

Evren read his words again, a warmth spreading through her chest. It wasn't just the sympathy, but the underlying protectiveness in his message. This glimpse of a softer, more caring side of Jey was unexpected and surprisingly comforting. Despite the physical distance and the circumstances of their connection, a genuine sense of understanding seemed to be forming between them. She typed a simple thank you, wishing him a good night. Turning off her phone, a small smile gracing her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

The stale air of the prison phone bank buzzed with the murmur of hushed conversations. Jey gripped the receiver, the plastic warm against his ear as he waited for his call to connect. When Jimmy finally answered, his voice was a familiar, slightly chaotic sound on the other end.

"Yo, what up, uce? Figured you were gonna call. Everything good on yo' end?" Jimmy's usual playful tone was present, though Jey could detect a subtle undercurrent he couldn't quite place.

"Yeah, same old shit. Just checkin' in on things your way," Jey replied, keeping his voice low, aware of the guards patrolling nearby.

"Things goin' as they should," Jimmy said vaguely. "You know how it goes."

Jey let out a dry chuckle. "Tell me bout it. Anything I need to know about?" He kept his tone casual, fishing for information without being explicit.

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Nah, man. Just the usual headaches. You know how it is with everything. What you been up to?"

Jey nodded, even though Jimmy couldn't see him. He decided to tread carefully. "Right, right. I been keepin' busy with writin' and stuff."

Jimmy's tone immediately shifted, a playful teasing entering his voice. "Oh yeah? Writin', huh? Last time you were 'writin',' you were penning angry letters to that ref who called that bogus foul in our high school game."

Jey rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. "Nah, man, it's not like that. Just connectin' with someone, you know?"

"Connectin' with someone?" Jimmy repeated, drawing out the words with exaggerated curiosity. "Since when did my antisocial twin brother start 'connectin' with people'? You finally join one of those prison book clubs?"

"Nah, nothing like that," Jey said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just somebody."

"Ooh, I see you uce!" Jimmy exclaimed, practically singing the word. "Well, well, well. Look at you, Jey-bird, making friends. Does this 'someone' got a name? Or are they just a figment of that lonely incarcerated imagination of yours?"

Jey sighed. "Man, quit playin'. It's just someone I'm writin' to. That's all." He wasn't ready to admit, even to Jimmy, the strange pull he felt towards Evren. "Just a friend."

Jimmy snorted. "A 'friend' you're suddenly talkin' all mysterious about? Come on, twin. Spill it. You finally found yourself a pen pal? Someone to keep your spirits up in the concrete jungle?"

Jey hesitated. "Somethin' like that." He shifted the phone to his other ear. "Look, man, that ain't really what I called about." He needed to change the subject. "There's somethin' I need you to do for me."

The playful tone in Jimmy's voice immediately faded, replaced by a note of seriousness. "What's up? What do you need?"

Jey paused again, glancing around the phone bank before lowering his voice even further. "I need you to do somethin' for me. Discreetly. No one else can know about this, you hear me?"

"I gotcha uce. What do you need me to do?" His voice laced with a bit of concern.

Jey took a deep breath, the weight of his request settling in his chest. "There's this girl... her name is Evren. She works at Atlanta Central"

Jey explained what he needed from him. Jimmy didn't hesitate. Reassuring his twin that he'll do what he asks of him. 

The call ended, leaving Jey standing in the noisy phone bank, the weight of his request heavy in the silence that followed. He had just pulled his twin brother, his connection to the outside, into this unexpected corner of his life. Feeling confident in his brother he made his way back to his cell as they started lock down for the night. 

What y'all think Jey got Jimmy doing for Evren? How are y'all liking it so far, and what do y'all want to see happen next?

Previous Part

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[thollandsgirl2013]

Hi again I hope that you are doing well! I was wondering if you could do a peter parker x reader fic where it's set during NWH and it's after may is gone and peter is worried that goblin is going to go after the reader next because she's his gf and he wants protect her because she's one of the few people that he has left

Hey there! I wasn’t sure if you were leaning more toward action or emotion, so I followed the heartbreak and went with raw emotions. Hope you like it.

---------------©®©®©®©®-----------------

𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐨

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → Grief, Angst, Protective Peter, Emotional Breakdown, Crying, Post-May Death, Hurt/Comfort.

Summary → After May’s death, Peter breaks down in the lab, fearing he’ll lose Reader next—and clings to her for comfort.

Peter 1 - Tom Holland

Peter 2 - Tobey Maguire

Peter 3 - Andrew Garfield

The Midtown High science lab smelled like burnt wires and stress.

Peter 1 was hunched over a cluttered desk with trembling hands, hastily mixing chemicals while the other two Spider-Men moved in sync like they’d done this their whole lives. Peter 2 handled the Osborne's antidote while Peter 3 handled Max's antidote. MJ and Ned were nearby, triple-checking the plans.

You stood close, watching your Peter with a tight chest. His jaw was clenched, movements stiff and sharp like he was made of broken glass. He hadn’t said much since the rooftop. Just nodded. Just worked. Just… existed. But you saw it—he was barely holding on.

He dropped a vial with a sharp clang, and everyone flinched. His hands were shaking now.

"Peter," you said gently.

He didn’t answer. Just blinked a few times too fast and whispered, “Sorry. I’m fine.”

You weren’t buying it.

You stepped beside him and placed your hand on his arm. “Pete…”

His eyes met yours for a second. Then he looked around, saw the others have gone back to deep in their tasks, and without a word, he grabbed your hand and tugged you toward the corner of the room. Past the broken Bunsen burners and dust-covered lab skeleton, behind a tall storage shelf. Out of sight.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice low, already knowing the answer.

He didn’t speak.

He just wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your shoulder.

You froze—just for a second—then held him tighter, anchoring him to you. That was when you felt it: the uneven breathing. The silent tremble in his body.

"I'm so scared," he finally whispered, his voice so cracked it barely counted as sound.

Your fingers slid up into his hair, grounding him. “Peter…”

“I—” He tried again. Swallowed. “I couldn’t save her. I tried. I swear I tried. And now… now the Goblin’s still out there and—what if he comes after you next?”

You leaned back slightly, cupping his jaw to make him look at you. His eyes were red, glossy, haunted.

“I can’t lose you too,” he said. “You’re all I have left.”

Your breath caught.

“I know Ned and MJ are still here, and the other Peters are helping but… you. You’re different. You’re mine. And I don’t think I can do this if something happens to you.”

You didn’t speak at first. Just leaned forward and pressed your forehead to his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know that,” he croaked. “You don’t know what he’ll do. He killed May like it was nothing. What if I’m not fast enough next time? What if I mess up again? What if I lose you and I have to keep living with that too?”

You cupped his face with both hands, thumbs brushing away tears as they fell. “Then don’t do it alone. Let me help. Let me be here—for all of it.”

“But what if I can’t protect you?”

“You don’t have to protect me from everything, Peter. Just let me stay with you. Let me love you, even if it’s messy and terrifying and dangerous.”

He gave a broken laugh that sounded more like a sob. “How are you always so calm?”

“I’m not,” you said softly. “I’m scared too. But I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.”

He stared at you like you’d just handed him the last piece of his soul.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should be helping with the cures, I should be—”

“No,” you interrupted. “You should be letting yourself feel this. You’re human, Peter. Even if the world keeps asking you to be a hero, you’re still allowed to hurt.”

He finally let his head rest against your shoulder again, holding you tighter this time. “Don’t let go.”

“Never,” you promised, sealing it with a kiss to the top of his curls.

Somewhere behind the shelves, a beaker clinked and Andrew cursed softly about mislabeling vials. Life was still moving on, even if your world had paused in this corner of the lab.

You and Peter just stayed there a while longer, wrapped up in grief and fear and love. Because in that moment, with the multiverse cracking apart and villains plotting chaos, all Peter Parker wanted was to hold on to the one person who reminded him he still had something worth fighting for.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Tags

@theslayerofthevampires

[butterflydm]

Rewatching 3x01 & 3x08 together (for fic purposes)

Spoilers for the whole season and some general spoilers for the books through, idk, I'll say Winter's Heart.

It really does feel like 3x01 set up some strong conflicts that were resolved in 3x08 -- Egwene's misgivings about Rand being about the madness as opposed to only about ~cheating~ comes across much more successfully if you only watch the first and last episodes of the season, lol.

I do personally feel like dragging Randgwene out for so long muddled the narrative that they were going for with them (from my own feelings and a sampling of what other people said -- some people picked up on them being mis-aligned but a lot of people basically attributed it all to Rand being A Bad Cheater Boyfriend, with Egwene essentially only being a passive victim instead of an active part of the relationship), because the themes that I've seen Rafe, Josha, and Maddy talk about in interviews (about Randgwene being about nostalgia and trying to keep in place a relationship that really doesn't exist anymore) feels like it comes across a lot more strongly without any of the intervening episodes between 3x01 and 3x08.

imo, 3x01 is also really the only episode where we get to see that Egwene is still ambitious, I think, and even then, it's only during her 3x01 Arches viewing (where mad!Rand tells her that she got 'what she always wanted' by becoming the Amyrlin, and so was potentially dismissed by viewers simply because it came out of Rand's mouth). And she never talks about it to anyone! It's all couched in her protecting Rand or being devoted to the Light (or protecting herself, once she realizes that there's an actual living person messing with her dreams). She never admits to any ambition in herself in s3, and she's never called out on it by anyone that the narrative tells us should be trusted on the matter (aka someone other than Rand).

What we needed was something like the scene with Elayne in early s2, where Elayne calls Egwene out on her jealousy of Nynaeve and it's obvious in Egwene's reaction that she hit on a sore spot and that Elayne is reading her accurately. Though, minor sidebar, now I kinda want to go back and see if Egwene ever admits to any faults, because it could be that that is supposed to be one of Egwene's flaws in the show -- we know from what was said in 1x07 that the pattern of the Randgwene pre-canon relationship was that if they had a fight, Rand (and only Rand) would apologize and that would 'fix' the fight, so Egwene never admitting to any faults or mistakes seems true for pre-canon Egwene; and when Randgwene 'resolve' their 1x07 fight, iirc Egwene never admits to there being any reason that Rand might doubt her devotion to Mat, a character who she has NEVER had a one-on-one conversation with on-screen and who she, in fact, did openly doubt when it came to his moral character. But it could be that I'm forgetting some lines that show!Egwene has had that would contradict this theory?

(I just went back and watched that Egwene & Elayne scene and Egwene never actually admits that Elayne was right and that she was feeling jealous; she straight-up denies it, in fact, just like she constantly denies in s3 that she's worried Rand might go mad -- it's just obvious in her reactions that what Elayne is saying is the truth. Plus it being about a friendship and not about a romance also helps un-cloud the issue, imo. As we also see in how Nynaeve gets more sympathy for wanting to 'save' Liandrin from the Shadow than Rand gets for wanting to 'save' Lanfear. So, yeah, that makes me lean towards 'this is an intentional flaw in Egwene's character' but I do feel like we needed something more in s3 to make that clear to viewers)

That is actually something that Mat could have potentially done if he'd gone into the Waste storyline the way that he does in the books -- been a contrast against/sounding board for Egwene. There's a bit of distance there, because he's one of Rand's best friends, but also a level of trust, because he's from the Two Rivers. I really do feel like we needed more of Egwene actually expressing her own feelings over the course of s3, because after 3x01, basically everything is other people telling Egwene how she feels while she either loudly denies it or looks off into the distance and says nothing. But according to the interviews, everyone else was right about Egwene's feelings and she was just in denial the whole time, but we never get anything validating that on-screen, imo. She just stays silent. So I really hope that we do get some conversations in s4 where Egwene expresses her own feelings instead of other people doing it for her.

Rewatching these two episodes so closely together also (as @markantonys recently talked about) really shows the contrast between the mad!Rand or the euphoric!Rand that we see in 3x01 vs the determined Rand that we see in 3x08, but we can also see that Egwene seems to feel like these are the same Rand, which means that she's not seeing him clearly. All that intervening space and the way that the Randfear relationship intersects with the relationship throughline makes it easier to go along with Egwene's viewpoint in 3x08, imo, and it's not as clear as it could be that she's not seeing the actual Rand who is standing in front of her but is instead seeing him through the lens of Arches!Rand who is screaming at her to bow to him. Everyone else is witnessing a prophecy coming to life, while Egwene is re-living one of her worst fears that she was forced to confront.

I feel like a conversation, or maybe more just showing us that Egwene is being affected by her visions, would have been good. Because it feels like Nynaeve's conversation about how deeply the Arches visions affects a person could be used to show that it's supposed to affecting Egwene too, even if she never talks about it but a) Elayne's visions aren't even shown on-screen and don't appear to have affected her at all and b) Nynaeve's talk sets up how her final vision in the Arches powers her own arc this season, so it's easy to mentally go "well, that's true for Nynaeve but it doesn't appear to be true for Elayne or Egwene".

So yeah, my general feeling is still that we either should have had Randgwene have their final relationship talk in 3x01 and had the rest of the season them resolving into a complex exes situation, or cut out some of the Liandrin backstory from 3x03 in order to put in some kind of Egwene scene where we can see how clearly she's seeing mad!Rand in the not-mad!Rand who is standing in front of her. Because it really feels like the way the narrative was played out disguises any issues that Egwene was bringing to the table in s3, and makes it look like the dissolution of their relationship was entirely Rand's fault. Especially since when Egwene talks about their 'relationship' to Elayne & Nynaeve, she says, "it's just as it was back home, like nothing's changed" while Rand says to Mat & Perrin, "we haven't really talked about [whether or not we're back in a relationship]" and we never get any kind of open and honest read from Egwene's perspective the entire season.

But, again, just watching 3x01 vs 3x08 does make the change in the relationship clear (even if Egwene still won't admit to Aviendha in 3x08 that they are no longer in a relationship! which is so wild to me!), and shows that Rand and Egwene have strongly conflicting points of view on how Rand needs to approach being the Dragon (especially now that Rand has fully embraced Moiraine's perspective, which contrasts sharply against Egwene's) and that this is, at this point in time, an irreconcilable difference in them that means that their relationship will never again be what it once was.

Egwene: "We could have kept you (Nynaeve) safe." vs Rand: "Safe's not possible anymore."

Egwene is trying to keep Rand 'safe' (from others? from himself?) all season but safety is not possible. But that might be what lies inside Egwene's refusal to commit to a break-up, even in 3x08? Because she believes that Rand 'needs' her in order to have the strength to pull himself back from the madness? idk she never talks about it! if that's the case, then maybe Rand not listening to her at the end of 3x08 means that she'll finally admit that they're not in a relationship anymore. We can only hope!

I do think that in the context of Egwene believing that she might need to 'stop' Rand, then her reaction to Aviendha asking if Rand ~deserves~ her strength is more interesting, because Rand's 'worthiness' is beside the point, if it's not about romance but instead potentially needing her strength to stop a 'mad!Rand' situation.

Rand absolutely is trying for a soft break-up in 3x01, though, with his assumption that Egwene is going to stay at the White Tower with Nynaeve and Mat, and she is not having any of it. And they're kinda stuck there until 3x06 though, again, it's wild that even in 3x08, Egwene will not verbally commit to no longer being in a relationship with Rand! (but Rand does, and it feels like the scene in 3x06 was clear enough to make the viewers feels that they're 'broken up enough' too, even if Egwene still won't say the words).

But by those same standards (was the 3x01 conflict resolved in 3x08?) -- it feels like Mat didn't go much of anywhere this season. He had some fan favorite scenes but the conflict that appears to be set up in his opening scenes -- not being able to help his friends because he's caught up in his own struggles -- remains the situation that he's in at the end of the season. Instead of being able to help Elayne or Nynaeve against the Black Ajah, he's caught up in his own struggles and taken out of the picture. He's struggling with memories in 3x01 and is now struggling with memories in the opposite direction in 3x08 (lost memories instead of new memories). He moved laterally but didn't actually resolve anything.

...that does line up with how Nynaeve's struggle with her block was essentially 'on hold' during s2 and then tee'd up to get knocked out in s3, so it could be that Mat was put on hold so that he can get the resolution to his current character struggle in s4 (fingers crossed for renewal, as always).

Taking Mat out of the Waste kinda feels like being put 'on hold' for Mat's own storyline but it has a MASSIVE impact on Rand's storyline.

Because everyone else who was already inclined to treat Rand like a person and also not be personally hurt by his relationship with Lanfear were already naturally leaving his plotline (Perrin, Elayne, and Nynaeve) so deliberately removing Mat -- who is the person who has been set up by the show to be the MOST sympathetic to Rand's concerns, as someone who a) has committed a similar 'crime' of abandonment that Rand did (1x06 Waygate abandonment vs 1x08 pretending to be dead), b) worried for weeks in s1 that he himself was the Dragon and was going mad, c) has already shown himself willing to support and uplift Rand (amateur therapy session in s2), d) has no reason to feel personally betrayed by Rand having feelings for Lanfear -- feeds into them wanting to play into Rand being more vulnerable to Lanfear when he's isolated.

And then that implies that bringing (some of) those people back into Rand's storyline in s4 would naturally/narratively give us a chance to get the other side of the story. Lanfear, the person who was trying to convince Rand that no one (but her) could genuinely care about him if they knew who he truly was, is now out of his life in a romantic way, and we are now free to bring back in the people who prove that she's wrong, because part of the point of s3 was to show us a Rand that would make the audience genuinely worry that he might pick Lanfear over the Light (but ultimately, I feel like the show would want to make it clear that Lanfear isn't actually correct and people are capable of loving and caring for all of who Rand is).

So it might have all been intentionally done to put us into Egwene's perspective to worry over Rand's mental state only to then bring in some characters in s4 who will be able to show us that part of that reaction was Egwene writing her own fears and worries onto Rand even though those fears aren't actually present (yet) in Rand's behavior.

It felt so significant to me that there was no Rand & Lanfear scene in the premiere and that really did play out throughout the season - Lanfear's primary dynamic this season, the one that mattered the most, was the one with Moiraine. Rand mentions Selene to Perrin and Mat -- that's the woman that he misses, the woman that he wanted. A woman who never existed. Moiraine is the one dealing with the woman who actually exists -- Lanfear. Just as it's Moiraine and Lan who deal with Lanfear in the season premiere, they are the ones who deal with her in the finale, while Rand has moved on from his ex and is dealing with things that matter more to him than holding on to a dead relationship with a cruel and manipulative woman.

The Randfear relationship is really well done on its own, but yeah I do feel like pulling the Randgwene relationship out so long kinda dilutes the power of what we see with Randfear, where Lanfear spends so long manipulating Rand and trying to convince him that no one but her can truly love him, only for Rand to go through the same realization that Lews Therin went through with her -- where she did something that accidentally revealed her cruelty and malice to him, and it make him realize the truth about her as a person. Because Egwene is mixed up in it, it gets dismissed as ~cheating~ instead of the abuse and manipulation of Rand that it is (otoh, it's entirely possible that even if Egwene weren't mixed up in it, it would still get dismissed the same way that the Mat-Tylin abusive dynamic is dismissed by some book!fans -- because some people genuinely believe that it's impossible for women to abuse men).

Randfear only have four (and a half, if you count Charn and Mierin) scenes together this season but each scene moves the story of their relationship's downfall forward in a powerful way -- we have the baseline of 3x02, which establishes that Lanfear is trying to tempt Rand and telling him that no one but her is capable of loving him because he's secretly just as awful as she is (peak abusive manipulation); we have 3x03, where Lanfear does her best to play on Rand's heartstrings and make him want to save her; we have 3x04, where Rand is given his hope that maybe Lanfear CAN be saved (and it's key that his hope comes from something that Lanfear herself had no way to manipulate); we have 3x05, where he momentarily gives in to temptation because he thinks there's a chance that 'Selene' really was a real version of Lanfear; and then we have 3x08, where Rand has learned who Lanfear really is and takes control of their relationship in order to finally end it. That is very economical and efficient storytelling! And the body language is all the Randfear scenes is just... excellently done. You can see the whole story just in the way they react to each other, without needing the words.

I will say, it feels very much like a warning sign that Moiraine and Lanfear agree that Rand's friends are 'holding him back' from 'the man that he must become' and then Rand comes around to agreeing with Moiraine (and, by extension, Lanfear) in the finale, and no longer objects to their methods (of hurting his friends to try to drive them away). Lanfear is maybe not the person that we should be agreeing with when it comes to how Rand's mental state should be handled.

That being said, the two parallel scenes of Rand and Moiraine's conversations in 3x01 vs 3x08 are very good -- we get them completely unable to connect and agree in 3x01, and when Moiraine crouches down to Rand's level, it feels like she's treating him like a child. While the 3x08 scene is both of them being willing to meet in the middle -- Moiraine admits she was wrong to try to force Rand to go to Tear, while otoh Rand has come fully to terms with the idea of embracing Moiraine's (unhealthy) policy of cutting himself off from his loved ones in order to embrace being the Dragon. And when Rand gets on her level in that second scene, it marks them seeing each other with vulnerability and mutual honesty, and they stand up together to fight their separate (yet linked) battles.

It cracks me up that Elayne gets kicked out of the ~serious conversation~ about the danger that Rand poses to the people he loves that Siuan wants to have with Egwene and Nynaeve... only to go talk to Rand and actually be the one person who has the greatest impact on him this entire season, by setting in motion his choice to go to the Aiel Waste and becoming the Car'a'carn to earn the Aiel as an army. Her advice here saves Rand's life (per what the Wise Ones told Moiraine in 3x03) and is key to him fulfilling the prophecies and the only people who know about it are her and Rand.

But that really does point out that Elayne gets left out of all of the "oh no, Rand is super-dangerous and is going to go mad" conversations that Egwene gets hammered with this season, so she's not bringing that with her everywhere she goes the way that Egwene is. But, yeah, this is another scene where Egwene has this instant denial and push-back against the idea that she might need to 'stop' Rand but apparently (from what was said in interviews and actually also the synopsis for the season that was put out) -- worrying about needing to 'stop' Rand was part of Egwene's struggle this season! I know I've mentioned it before but I really really feel like it needed some more attention and I feel like we could have sacrificed some of Liandrin's backstory in order to put a spotlight on this struggle of Egwene's.

Again, if you only watch 3x01 and 3x08 back to back, then I think that theme does come through successfully, but when you have all those intervening episodes, I feel like it gets kinda lost, especially since it's something that Egwene is never willing to admit out loud.

"Rand isn't used to having power. Command doesn't sit easily on his shoulders. But he will learn his duties and responsibilities to your people." Much like Elayne sets Rand's journey into motion, we see here that she has faith in his ability to become the Aiel's Car'a'carn. When Egwene is with Rand, she is always trying to see the boy that she once knew (the way that Lanfear is always trying to see Lews Therin? the way that Rand is trying to see Selene?), but Elayne sees the person that Rand actually is -- his challenges and his struggles included.

So I'm really hoping that we're going to see that when Elayne comes back into s4 and hopefully gets back into Rand's storyline relatively quickly -- Egwene will now be looking at Rand through the lens of mad!Rand from the Arches since she's decided he's not the boy that she used to know, while Elayne looks at him and sees the person that's really there.

Plus we see that Elayne is fully willing to wield dangerous power for the sake of the Light when she grabs the balefire rod from Jeaine and murders her with it without even the slightest bit of hesitation. So that's another place where it seems like she can understand the position that Rand is in.

There is also a very subtle and in-the-background Randlayne hug in the 3x01 goodbye scene. They definitely kept the Randlayne vibes low-key but present -- she's incredibly important to his story this season but not in a way that trips 'cheating' bells the way that his interactions with Lanfear did. The subtitles also say that Rand is telling Elayne "Thank you" here! It is VERY quiet though, because that's right when the music is kicking up. But I can hear it when I turn the sound up. So yeah, Elayne goes from saying goodbye to Aviendha right to saying goodbye to Rand.

(and the ta'veren boys goodbye hug is also very nice, even if I remain sad that pretty much all Cauthor got stripped out of one of the biggest Cauthor books in the series)

Aviendha's "My duty is to you, as yours is to your people." really does reinforce the point that Elayne made to Rand about how even if Aviendha is grumpy over Rand being the Car'a'carn, she does still stick by him. And that plays out in 3x08 as well, even though I do wish they'd actually gotten their own scene together, instead of Aviendha's single one-on-one conversation being with Egwene.

The White Tower scenes in 3x01 vs 3x08 go full-circle so hard and so painfully. That what Siuan tries to do to Liandrin here -- denounce her as a Darkfriend -- comes around on her in the end. Tried, stilled, interrogated, and executed. That was the plan for Liandrin, before her Black Ajah allies in the Hall came to rescue her. And, of course, Elaida made sure to send away Siuan's allies before moving forward with her coup.

So out of the Black Ajah that are revealed here, Liandrin is the only survivor that we see on-screen at the end of the season. We also get a foretaste of vengeful Leane here, who will see likely see in full force in s4, with that need for revenge turned against Elaida. Leane doesn't interact with Egwene in this episode, but she is there to witness Egwene repudiating Siuan's authority and leaving immediately after her Accepted Test (and so is Alviarin, who becomes Leane's counterpart at the end of the season).

We have the contrast of helpless!Nynaeve in 3x01 (because she's blocked) and then she gets unblocked in 3x08... but too late to do anything except save her own life. That's something that I've been turning over in my head. Nynaeve doesn't get to 'protect the kids'. She doesn't make it in time when Egwene needs to be saved in s2 and Egwene has to rescue herself; she isn't the one to heal Rand when he gets his dagger injury; she's not the one to save Mat's life in 3x08 even though she promises to help him in 3x01.

Maybe something about Nynaeve learning how to put on her own life vest before helping with anyone else's? I really am curious if Nynaeve is going to be able to help any of the kids in s4, now that her block is broken and she's no longer afraid of/hating her own power anymore.

[firstelevens]

Hi, if that prompt list helps to distract you from your WIPs, might I humbly request "we'll get through this" kisses + SamBucky?

43. “we’ll get through this” kisses

here's a little jaunt into an AU for your troubles

Sam tips his head back against the wall, letting out a slow, quiet breath as he listens out for any noise coming down the hallway. Beside him, Bucky listens, too, head cocked and a wariness on his face that Sam has almost never seen in the field.

They've barely spoken all day, both braced to spring into action at the first sign of trouble. Twenty-four hours ago, Sam was sipping coffee on the porch and watching the sun come up, and now he's so on edge that he managed to forget where his phone was while it was literally in his hand. There's an ache in his elbow that won't let up, and his neck is killing him, and he stepped in something earlier that he's actively choosing not to think about because it ranks thirty-fourth at best on their list of imminent concerns.

"You okay, sweetheart?" whispers Bucky, and even that makes Sam flinch a little bit.

He steadies a little as Bucky's hand lands on his forearm and covers it with his own. "Fine," he murmurs. "Don't worry about me."

Bucky huffs. "You look like you're gonna pass out, Sammy. You should have taken the out when Nat gave it to you."

"And left you here to deal with this alone?" hisses Sam. "You really think I would do that to you?"

"No, but you should have," Bucky says, his voice barely above a whisper. "You deserve a break."

"We both do, and we'll take it together once this is done," says Sam. "For now, we can just...appreciate the quiet together."

A snort. "And the scenic view?"

"What do you need a scenic view for when you've got these perfect cheekbones to admire, huh?"

"Good point." Bucky leans over and brushes a kiss to one of the aforementioned cheekbones. It shouldn't make Sam's face heat up the way it does.

Sam turns to kiss Bucky properly, but they both freeze in place as the wind picks up outside, rattling the windows and making the roof creak ominously. Inside, it stays quiet for half a second, and then thunder booms so loudly across the sky that Sam feels it in his teeth.

Beside him, Bucky mumbles a string of curses, pushing to his feet as the sound of crying carries down the hallway. "Well," he says, as he helps Sam up, "it was nice while it lasted."

"At least we managed to eat something," says Sam, setting the half-finished sandwich on the coffee table. He nods towards the kitchen. "You go get the teething rings, and I'll--"

"You'll go get the teething rings," Bucky says, cutting him off. "You've been carrying him around all day, and you're starting to favor your left elbow. Let me take over. He can gnaw on the vibranium for a while; he likes that."

Sam sighs and drops his head to rest on Bucky's shoulder for a second. "Am I a bad dad if I can't wait for teething to be over?"

"Sure," Bucky says flatly. "Everyone knows the first sign of a bad dad is someone who can't bear to see his kid hurting."

"I still kind of feel like one," mumbles Sam.

Bucky tips his chin up, presses a reassuring kiss to his lips. "You're not," he says, his voice firm. "You're just sleep deprived and hungry."

"I'm just sleep deprived and hungry," repeats Sam, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And Sarah said it gets easier."

"And she's not in the habit of being wrong," Bucky says, fast enough that Sam knows Bucky has been repeating it to himself. "We're going to survive this, and so is Jack, and we're not gonna traumatize him in the process."

"Well, as long as one of us is sure," says Sam, then leans in for one more bolstering kiss before they separate at the sound of a particularly sharp cry. "Now come on. If you won't let me hold Jack, I'm just gonna stand there and smell his head until I feel better."

[zrvllya]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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good luck babe, chappell roan

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marlene mckinnon x reader ! one shot ⏾

nothing more than his wife.

ᵎ!ᵎ internalized homophobia, period-typical homophobia, angst, mild sexual content, forbidden love, unresolved tension, mutual pining, hurt/comfort

word count [ 6,000+ ]

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gideon's arm feels heavy around your shoulders as you sit with him in the three broomsticks. it's your fourth date, or maybe your fifth—you've lost count, the days blending together in a haze of performative smiles and mechanical responses. he's in the middle of telling you about quidditch practice, his voice animated, hands gesturing wildly as he recounts some spectacular save he made.

you're nodding at all the right moments, laughing when his expression indicates you should, but your eyes keep drifting to the corner table where she sits with dorcas meadowes and mary macdonald.

marlene mckinnon. your ex-best friend. your ex-something-else-entirely.

she hasn't looked your way once, deliberately keeping her back to you, but you know she's aware of your presence. you can tell by the tension in her shoulders, the way she holds herself too still, too controlled. the marlene you knew was never still—always fidgeting, always in motion, hands dancing as she spoke.

"hey," gideon says, snapping his fingers in front of your face. "you in there?"

you blink, dragging your attention back to him. "sorry. just tired from studying."

"you're always tired lately," he observes, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. "if i didn't know better, i'd think you were avoiding me."

"don't be ridiculous," you say, forcing yourself to touch his hand, to smile up at him. "i'm just stressed about o.w.l.s."

he seems placated by this, his expression softening. "well, i know something that might help you relax," he murmurs, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

you let him kiss you there in the middle of the crowded pub, his mouth tasting of butterbeer and nothing else. nothing like—

"you taste like strawberries," you had whispered against marlene's lips, both of you hidden in the shadows of the quidditch stands after everyone else had gone. it was a chilly october evening in fifth year, and marlene had pulled you close, wrapping her scarf around both your necks.

"it's lip balm," she'd said, smiling against your mouth. "do you like it?"

you'd kissed her again in response, deeper this time, your fingers tangling in her wild curls. "i like everything about you," you'd breathed, and the look on her face—shock melting into pure joy—had made your heart stutter in your chest.

the scrape of chair legs against wood pulls you from the memory. you look up to see marlene standing, throwing some coins on the table. she's laughing at something mary said, but her eyes are dull, her smile not reaching them. dorcas touches her arm in a gesture that seems too intimate, and something ugly twists in your stomach.

"i need to use the loo," you tell gideon, extracting yourself from his embrace. he nods, already turning to wave over james potter and sirius black who've just entered the pub.

you follow marlene, watching as she separates from her friends and heads toward the back of the pub. she slips into the narrow hallway that leads to the toilets, and without allowing yourself to think, you follow.

she's washing her hands when you enter, and her eyes meet yours in the mirror. for a moment, neither of you speaks. then she sighs, turning off the tap and reaching for a towel.

"stalking me now?" she asks, her voice deliberately light, but there's an undercurrent of something raw beneath it.

"we need to talk," you say, checking to make sure you're alone before casting a quick silencing charm on the door.

marlene raises an eyebrow. "now you want to talk? after four months of pretending i don't exist?"

"that's not fair—"

"fair?" she cuts you off, her voice rising slightly. "you want to talk about fair? was it fair when you shoved me away on your birthday? when you told me what we had wasn't real?"

you flinch, your back hitting the door. "i never meant to hurt you."

"well, good luck with that," she says bitterly. "because you'd have to stop the world just to stop hurting me now."

she moves to push past you, but you catch her wrist. "marls, please—"

"don't call me that." she jerks her arm away like your touch burns. "you lost the right to call me that when you started parading around with prewett."

"i'm not parading—"

"you're not?" her laugh is hollow. "what do you call it then? letting him paw at you in public, kissing him where everyone can see? you never let me touch you like that, not even when we were alone."

it had been raining the first time you'd told her no. you were in the library, studying in a secluded corner, and she'd reached for your hand under the table. you'd pulled away as if scalded, glancing around frantically to see if anyone had noticed.

"no one's looking," she'd said, hurt evident in her voice.

"someone could see," you'd insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "we need to be careful."

"careful," she'd repeated, the word sounding like a curse on her lips. "always so careful."

"that was different," you say weakly.

"yeah, it was different because you were ashamed of me," she says, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "you still are."

"i wasn't—" you start, but the lie tastes sour in your mouth. "i was scared."

"and i wasn't?" she demands. "you think i wasn't terrified? the difference is i thought you were worth it. i thought we were worth it."

she moves to leave again, and this time you let her go, your arms hanging uselessly at your sides. just before she opens the door, she turns back to you.

"you know what's pathetic? even now, even after everything, i'd still choose you. i'd still stand up to the whole world for you." she shakes her head, a sad smile playing at her lips. "i'm cliché, who cares?“

she leaves without another word, the door swinging shut behind her. you stay in the bathroom for a long time, staring at your reflection in the mirror, trying to recognize the person staring back at you.

when you finally return to the table, gideon has been joined by his friends. he pulls you onto his lap without asking, his hand resting possessively on your thigh. across the pub, marlene is watching now, her eyes meeting yours over the rim of her butterbeer.

you don't look away this time. neither does she.

two weeks pass in a blur of classes and stolen glances across rooms. gideon becomes more insistent, his hands wandering further each time you're alone, his kisses growing more demanding. you let him, hoping that if you try hard enough, if you push yourself far enough, eventually your body will forget what it felt like to be touched by her.

it doesn't work.

"we should go to the room of requirement tonight," gideon suggests one evening as you study together in the common room. his hand is on your knee, fingers drawing slow circles on your skin. "get some privacy."

you know what he's asking. you've been dating for almost two months now, and he's been patient, but his patience is wearing thin. part of you thinks maybe this is what you need—to cross that final line, to prove to yourself that you can be what everyone expects you to be.

"okay," you agree, and his face lights up with surprise and excitement.

"really? brilliant. after dinner?"

you nod, already feeling numb. out of the corner of your eye, you see marlene enter the common room, a stack of books in her arms. she glances your way, then quickly averts her gaze, heading for a table in the far corner.

"i've never done this before," you'd confessed, your voice trembling as marlene's fingers skimmed under the hem of your shirt, tracing patterns on your bare skin. you were in the room of requirement, a space transformed into a cozy bedroom with a large four-poster bed and a fireplace crackling softly in the background.

"we don't have to," she'd whispered, pulling back to look into your eyes. "we can stop anytime you want."

but you hadn't wanted to stop. you'd wanted her hands on you, her mouth on yours, her body pressed against yours so tightly that you couldn't tell where you ended and she began.

afterward, lying tangled in the sheets, your head on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart, you'd felt more at peace than ever before. "i love you," you'd murmured into her skin, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

she'd gone very still, and for a moment you'd panicked, thinking you'd said too much. but then her arms had tightened around you, and she'd pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "i love you too," she'd said, her voice filled with wonder, as if she couldn't quite believe she was allowed to say the words out loud. "i love you so much it scares me sometimes."

dinner comes and goes. you pick at your food, unable to eat, your stomach a tight knot of anxiety. gideon doesn't seem to notice your discomfort, too busy joking with his friends, his arm slung casually around your shoulders.

across the great hall, marlene sits with her friends, laughing at something sirius black is saying. but there's something forced about her laughter, something brittle in her smile. she looks tired, dark circles under her eyes that weren't there before. before you. before everything went wrong.

"ready?" gideon asks as people begin to leave the hall, his breath hot against your ear.

you nod mechanically, letting him take your hand and lead you out. as you pass the gryffindor table, your eyes meet marlene's. something flashes across her face—pain, resignation, maybe both—before she looks away, her jaw set in a hard line.

the room of requirement provides a setting not unlike what it created for you and marlene—a large bed, a fireplace, soft lighting. but where that room had felt warm and safe, this one feels cold, impersonal.

gideon doesn't seem to notice or care. he's kissing you before the door even closes behind you, his hands already working at the buttons of your blouse.

"wait," you say, pulling back slightly. "can we slow down?"

he sighs but nods, leading you to sit on the edge of the bed. "sorry," he says, though he doesn't sound particularly apologetic. "you just drive me crazy, you know that?"

you force a smile, letting him kiss you again, trying to focus on the physical sensation instead of the emptiness growing inside you. his hands are back at your blouse, and this time you don't stop him as he undoes the buttons, his fingers fumbling slightly in his eagerness.

"you're so beautiful," he murmurs against your neck, and you close your eyes, pretending it's a different voice, different hands.

but it's not. it's not her soft touch, her gentle words, her strawberry-scented breath. it's rough stubble against your skin, calloused fingers that don't know where to touch, how to touch.

"gideon, i—i can't," you say, pulling away suddenly, your chest heaving. "i'm sorry, i thought i could, but i can't."

his face darkens, frustration evident in the set of his mouth. "what's the problem? we've been together for months."

"i know, i just—i'm not ready."

"not ready," he repeats, running a hand through his hair. "is this about mckinnon?"

your heart stops. "what?"

"you think i haven't noticed? the way you look at her, the way she looks at you?" he laughs, a harsh sound that echoes in the quiet room. "the whole school's been gossiping about it for years."

you feel the blood drain from your face. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"don't insult my intelligence," he says, standing up. "i thought dating me would help squash the rumors, that's why i asked you out. but if you're still hung up on her—"

"there's nothing between me and marlene," you interrupt, the lie tasting like ash in your mouth.

gideon looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "whatever you say," he says finally. "but i'm not going to be your beard while you figure things out."

he leaves without another word, the door slamming shut behind him. you sit on the bed, your blouse half-unbuttoned, your world crumbling around you.

if gideon knew, who else did? had everyone been talking about you and marlene all this time? had all your efforts to hide, to be normal, been for nothing?

you don't remember leaving the room of requirement or walking back to the gryffindor tower. you're operating on autopilot, your mind a whirlwind of panic and confusion.

the common room is mostly empty when you enter, just a few students studying by the fire. and marlene, sitting alone in the window seat, a book open in her lap though she doesn't seem to be reading it.

she looks up as you approach, her expression guarded. "you look like hell," she observes, but there's concern beneath the briskness of her tone.

"gideon broke up with me," you say, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

she marks her place in the book before closing it, giving you her full attention. "i'm sorry," she says, though she doesn't sound sorry at all. "what happened?"

"he knows." the words come out in a whisper. "about us. he says everyone knows."

marlene is quiet for a moment, her eyes searching your face. "and that's why you're upset? because people might know you were with me?"

"i'm upset because i've been lying to myself, to everyone, for nothing," you say, sinking down onto the window seat beside her. "i've been so afraid of what people would think, and it turns out they already knew."

"not everyone," she says, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "just the ones paying attention."

"what am i supposed to do now?" you ask, more to yourself than to her.

marlene sighs, running a hand through her curls. "what do you want to do?"

"what do you want?" marlene had asked you once, lying beside you in the grass by the lake, hidden from view by a large oak tree. it was early in your fifth year, before everything fell apart.

"right now? nothing. this is perfect," you'd answered, content to lie there with her, watching clouds drift across the sky.

"no, i mean in life," she'd clarified, turning on her side to face you. "after hogwarts. what's your plan?"

you'd thought about it for a moment. "i don't know. work at the ministry maybe? get married eventually, have a couple of kids." it was what was expected, after all. the path laid out for girls like you.

"to who?" she'd asked, her voice carefully neutral.

you'd turned to look at her, confused. "what do you mean, to who?"

"who would you marry?" her eyes had been serious, searching.

"i don't know, i haven't thought about it," you'd said, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

"would you marry me?" she'd asked, her voice so quiet you'd barely heard it. "if you could?"

you'd sat up abruptly, looking around to make sure no one was nearby. "marlene, don't say things like that."

"why not?" she'd pushed, sitting up as well. "it's just a question."

"because people don't—it's not—we can't get married," you'd stammered, your face burning. "two girls can't get married."

"not legally, no," she'd agreed. "but if we could. would you want to?"

you hadn't answered. you couldn't. because the truth was, you had thought about it. in your most private dreams, the ones you never acknowledged in daylight, you'd imagined a life with her. a home, a future. but those dreams were impossible, forbidden. dangerous.

"never mind," she'd said after your prolonged silence, lying back down and closing her eyes. "forget i asked."

but you hadn't forgotten. and sometimes, when you looked at her, you wondered if she could see the answer written all over your face.

"i don't know what i want," you admit now, your voice small.

"yes, you do," marlene says, her tone gentle but firm. "you're just afraid to admit it."

she's right, of course. she's always been able to see through you, to the heart of you, in a way no one else can.

"i'm scared," you confess, your voice breaking. "i'm so scared all the time."

marlene's expression softens, and for a moment you think she might reach for you. but she keeps her hands firmly in her lap, maintaining the distance between you.

"i know you are," she says. "but living like this—denying who you are, who you love—that's scarier. trust me, i've tried both ways."

"have you?" you ask, genuinely curious. "tried to be with boys, i mean?"

she nods, a small smile playing at her lips. "twice. once in third year with benjy fenwick, before i really understood what i was feeling for you. and again last month with sirius."

the revelation hits you like a physical blow. "you and sirius?"

"nothing happened," she assures you. "we went to hogsmeade, he tried to kiss me, i couldn't go through with it." she shrugs. "turns out i'm cliché.“

you recognize the phrase from what she said in the bathroom at the three broomsticks. "what does that mean?"

"it means i'm in love with you," she says simply, as if stating a fact as ordinary as the color of the sky. "despite everything, despite how much it hurts, i can't stop."

her honesty leaves you breathless. "marlene—"

"you don't have to say anything," she interrupts. "i'm not telling you this to pressure you or to make you feel guilty. i'm telling you because it's true, and i'm tired of pretending it's not."

"what if—" you start, then stop, afraid to voice the thought.

"what if what?" she prompts gently.

"what if we tried?" you whisper, the words barely audible. "not hiding, i mean. being together, properly."

hope flares in her eyes, bright and dangerous, before she carefully schools her expression. "is that what you want?"

"i don't know," you admit. "i'm still scared. of what people will say, of what my parents will do when they find out."

"they might surprise you," she suggests, though her tone indicates she doesn't quite believe it herself.

"they might disown me," you counter. "your parents are different, they're more accepting. mine are—"

"traditional," she supplies. "i know. but you can't live your life for them."

"easy for you to say."

she laughs, a genuine sound that makes your heart flip in your chest. "nothing about this has been easy, trust me."

you sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling around you. finally, marlene speaks again, her voice quiet but determined.

"here's what i think," she says. "i think you should take some time. figure out what you want, what you can live with. and when you know—really know—come find me."

"and if what i want is you?" you ask, hardly believing your own boldness.

her smile is sad, tinged with hope. "then you know where i'll be. i'm not going anywhere."

she stands, gathering her book and her bag. "it's late, and we both have transfiguration first thing tomorrow."

you nod, watching as she prepares to leave. "marlene?"

she pauses, looking back at you. "yeah?"

"thank you. for waiting, for being—" you gesture vaguely, unable to find the right words. "for being you."

"don't thank me yet," she says, her voice gentle. "i might not wait forever."

but the look in her eyes tells you she will. she'll wait as long as it takes for you to be brave enough to choose her, to choose yourself.

as she walks away, heading up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, you wonder if you ever will be that brave. if you'll ever be able to stand up to the world, to your parents, to your own fears.

the answer doesn't come that night, or the next. it doesn't come when gideon starts dating mary macdonald a week later, or when your mother sends you a letter asking if you've met any nice boys yet.

it doesn't come until the end of the year, when you're packing to go home for the summer and you find a small silver bracelet tucked into the bottom of your trunk. a bracelet with two charms: a star and a flower.

"the star is me," she'd explained on your birthday, her voice soft and uncertain, "and the flower is you. because you're... you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen."

you hold the bracelet in your palm, the silver catching the light from the window. you don't remember putting it in your trunk—which means marlene must have placed it there, a silent reminder of what you once shared, what you could share again.

you slip it onto your wrist, the metal cool against your skin. tomorrow you'll go home to your parents' house, to their expectations and their plans for your future. you'll smile and nod and play the part of the dutiful daughter.

but in september, when you return to hogwarts for your sixth year, you'll find marlene on the train. you'll sit beside her, your hand finding hers beneath the cover of your robes. and maybe, just maybe, you'll be brave enough to keep holding on, even when there's nowhere to hide.

for now, though, you close your trunk, the bracelet a comforting weight on your wrist, a promise to yourself that someday you'll stop running. someday you'll be brave enough to face the world with marlene by your side.

someday.

but not today.