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keigosdear · 5 months ago

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{bad idea... right? - kuroo t.}

yes I know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?//…I just tripped and fell into his bed.

kuroo x fem!reader smut. exes to lovers. 18+ MDNI please.

in which you and your ex "reconnect" after almost half a year apart, but with so many unresolved feelings, it'll either end up being the best or worst idea you've ever had.

warnings: fem!reader, no physical description (aside from specific genitalia ofc). university setting. smut, mentions of alcohol/getting drunk but no drunk sex, lots of feelings/kinda mutual pining. praise kink, a little bit of voice kink, very brief jealous reader, cunnilingus, body worship, teasing, lots of pet names in lieu of y/n, soft dom!kuroo and sub!reader, very. very. soft, kinda emotional sex, aftercare and fluff towards the end. porn with a bit of plot/build up. this fic is my baby.

a trope I never thought I'd write plus a genre I've never written before? apparently so. it's my first time writing smut, so constructive criticism is welcomed, being rude is not. can you believe I started this over the summer ‘23 and I'm only posting it now?

and lmk if I need to add anything else to the warnings :)

divider credit to: @/cafekitsune

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this truly had the potential to be one of your worst ideas yet.

you weren't even going to be at this damn party to begin with, but your friend finally convinced you to go with her after a week of wearing you down.

"it'll be fun, c'mon!" she begged.

the only reason you didn't want to go was because you were finally done with your first semester of classes and wanted to wind down in peace, not at a crowded house party filled with loud music and sweaty drunk university students.

but of course you relented when she pulled out the puppy dog eyes and played the "but we haven't hung out in months, I miss you!" card.

so there you were by the snacks and refreshments table, dressed up and nursing a drink, talking and laughing with your friends. truthfully, you were having a better time than you thought you would and figured that you had almost a month before classes started back up again to relax.

"soooo? has anyone caught your eye yet?" multiple faces focused their attention on you.

you knew part of the reason your friend had insisted on you going with her was to help you meet someone. she'd never admit it, but it was pretty obvious with the way she was pointing out people left and right, making note of how attractive they were. at one point she had even "accidentally" pushed you into one of her targets, which had made for some very awkward small-talk on your end with someone you had zero interest in and some giggling from her.

it's not that you were opposed to the idea of finding someone, but in all honesty, no one had caught your eye. recently you had gotten out of a long long term relationship, and starting over after that just seemed so... unappealing to you.

it also seemed unfair to start anything new when you were very much not over him. breaking up in the middle of the semester had made it really easy for you to push down any emotions and throw yourself into your studies. but it didn't change the fact that you missed him. even now, the party acted as a good distraction for you.

or so you thought.

you were about to respond when your phone buzzed. you looked down and your heart leapt into your throat when you saw the contact name.

it felt strange seeing it as "kuroo" rather than some version of his given name or a pet name. once you hit the one minute mark of just staring at the text notification in shock, your friend peeked over your shoulder and gasped a little.

"you didn't block him?!"

you snatched your phone out of her hand after she stole it to show your group of friends.

"why would I? it's not like we hate each other."

and it was true- you both ended amicably (though very reluctantly). you only ever wanted the best for each other, and while it was sad, you realized that at this point in your lives with how busy you both were, you weren't able to offer that anymore.

you’d rather this than end things resenting each other.

still, it was a hard pill to swallow, so for now you were just holding it on your tongue, letting the bitter taste of the coating settle instead.

she frowned. "well yeah, but-"

you cut her off before she could bring up the very emotions you were ignoring in that moment and shoved your phone back in your pocket. "c'mon, let's go dance!"

later, though, when you excused yourself to the bathroom, the first thing you did was down your second drink and read the text.

hey.

do you want to come over?

you stared at the messages for another minute, reading and re-reading them over and over again before sighing. being with him for years meant you knew him like the back of your hand, and he wasn't one for casual hook ups or one night stands. you hadn't even heard from him in a few months- this was the first bit of contact you'd had with him since you cleaned out your drawer of clothes at his place.

which meant he was either drunk and missing you or someone was playing a prank and you'd just end up a fool.

seriously weighing the options in front of you, trying not to let your emotions overpower your decision making, you attempted to think about the long term consequences of going over.

no matter how you spun it, it sounded like a bad idea. even if he did send the texts, there was no guarantee he wanted anything out of it.

but you were too tipsy for logic at that point in the night, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were in need of some excitement.

yeah.

I'll send my new address.

wait, he moved?

despite being together for so long, the two of you never ended up living together, opting for dorms and student houses with friends. still, you did spend a lot of time at his old place, and before the breakup you had even talked about the possibility of moving in together after the current school year was done.

you didn't linger on the sour feelings that brought up and instead decided to let your friends know you were leaving. when they asked where you were going, you spun some lie about not feeling well and wanting to head home before you got worse. you didn't really care if they believed you or not.

checking the address he had sent you once more, you made your way out of the house and were pleasantly surprised to realize it wasn't that far of a walk, especially since you were wearing uncomfortable party shoes.

you sipped on the bottle of water you swiped form the refreshment table and tried to sober up a bit more before seeing him. you weren't a hundred percent sure what would happen once you got there, but it was a good idea to be prepared for anything.

eventually you made it up to his apartment, which was in another student housing building off campus, bigger than his old place, and took a moment to compose yourself.

there was still time to turn back and make an excuse for why you bailed.

there was still time to think it through.

there was still time to save yourself from the possibility of more pain.

you took a deep breath and knocked on the door anyway.

not even five seconds later, the door was opening and you were face to face with your ex boyfriend.

you took him in for the first time in months- really took him in. sure, you'd seen his instagram posts since breaking up, but you could only zoom in so far on those. and fine, maybe your friends had tried to set you up with people they had deemed "much hotter", but you never saw the appeal. you couldn't even remember any of their faces in that moment, because kuroo was right there.

his hair was the same as always, slightly messier than usual, exactly how it looked whenever he (or you) would run his hands through it on a particularly stressful day.

had he been stressed about the text? did he regret it?

he was dressed somewhat casually, in a dark red shirt you recognized as part of a birthday gift you gave him one year (you had always liked the colour red on him). he was wearing black sweatpants and his socks were mismatched.

everything about him was familiar, and you hated the way a feeling of ease settled over you when he finished his own analysis of you and gave a boyish, almost giddy grin. "hi."

his voice was warm and gave you butterflies. there was an undertone of excitement in his greeting and it quelled your worries about him regretting the texts.

you decided to smile back, though somewhat shyly (which you inwardly scolded yourself for), and spoke up. "hi."

he didn't let the silence that followed settle into awkwardness. he opened the door a bit wider, and welcomed you in. ever the gentleman, he took your coat and and helped you balance as you took your shoes off. you tried to ignore how warm and gentle his touch was, how it made you immediately crave more.

you made your way into the living room and took everything in. there were empty cans and shot glasses littered across the room, mostly concentrated on the coffee table. you thought you heard him swear under his breath when he looked at the mess as well.

"did you have a party?" you asked, now close enough to smell a bit of alcohol on him.

he shook his head and looked a bit embarrassed. "ah, no..." he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and sighed. "my roommates went out with some friends tonight and decided to pre-game here. I went back to my room before they left because I didn't feel like drinking too much and assumed they'd clean up a bit..."

you nodded in understanding. "wishful thinking, huh?"

he chuckled. "yeah, guess so," he said, then gestured to an empty spot on the couch. "sit, I'll just get some of this out of the way quickly."

"oh, I can help-" you tried to offer but he waved you off.

"don't worry about it. I'm the one who invited you into a sloppy apartment, you shouldn't have to clean up a mess that isn't yours."

you snorted and watched as he shoved a ton of cans into the decorative waste bin by the sofa and took some glasses to the sink in the kitchen. "says the one who's cleaning up a mess that isn't his."

you heard him laugh at your words and the butterflies erupted in your stomach again. you hadn't realized how much you missed that sound. suddenly your mind wandered back to the reason behind his invitation. you'd be alone tonight?

once he returned from the kitchen and sat down next to you, you talked for a bit. he caught you up on the moving situation (him and a few friends found an opening for the second semester, so they decided to jump on it and try to stay until grad, hopefully. he made a joke about trying to make friends with the landlord). you listened closely, trying not to make it obvious you were hanging off his every word.

when he was done, you caught him up on your life and how you were at a party when he texted. he apologized for interrupting and you told him a little too fast not to be, which he seemed pleased with.

after a while, he asked if you wanted to watch a movie. you agreed, though you were starting to get impatient. you knew he wasn't the type of guy to ever expect anything from anyone, but the curiosity was eating you alive. you couldn't help but finally ask him about it halfway through the movie.

"hey... why did you invite me tonight?"

he didn't seem surprised by your question, which told you he was probably expecting it. (it was silly of you to think he couldn't tell when something was on your mind after years together and only months apart.)

he took a deep breath in and looked down at his lap. while he didn't look outwardly nervous, you knew him well enough to know what his tells were. he picked at a thread on his pants, trying to compose himself before dropping the bomb.

"because I missed you." he looked you in the eye and then continued. "a lot. and you can take that however you'd like. I'll let you decide."

you blinked at him. he'd let you decide? the way he said it implied that he missed you, missed you. not just missed having you in his life, not just as a friend- he missed you.

you would be nothing but a liar if you said you hadn't missed him too. and you knew that the feeling of security and familiarity you experienced earlier wasn't just nostalgia or your own unresolved feelings. if that were the case, you wouldn't be feeling this comfortable on the couch with him. you wouldn't be able to pretend things were normal between you as easily as you had been all night.

kuroo still very much felt like home, and you didn't want to let him go ever again. there was only one way for you to take his declaration.

"can I..." you looked into his eyes and tried not to drown in them. "can I kiss you?"

he looked relieved at your words and eagerly nodded. "please."

you leaned forward and feverishly crashed your lips against his as soon as the word left his mouth. he raised one hand to cup your cheek and pulled you closer to him by your thigh with the other, not once breaking away from you.

soon you were straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, quiet noises releasing into the air around you both. you moved a hand up the back of his neck, into his hair, and he groaned slightly into your mouth.

you giggled into the kiss, happy to see you still knew what got him going.

as if either of you could forget- it was muscle memory at that point. just like you'd never forget how to ride a bike, you'd never forget how to make the other feel good.

eventually you both had to pull away and fill your lungs again, but you were close enough that your foreheads touched and your breaths mixed.

it was quiet aside from some light panting, so you decided to break that silence with a confession of your own. "I missed you too, tetsurou. so much."

now, you weren't sure if it was what you said or how you said it, but as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt something hard pressing against the area between your legs and gasped a little.

your eyes opened and you pulled your face away just enough to look at him properly. your eyes met his and his face was tinged pink. "I- I'm sorry... we don't... if you don't want to..." he mumbled, not sure how to gage your reaction to this sudden development.

you kissed him again, softer this time to reassure him, and smiled a bit when you pulled away. "I want to, tetsu."

he let out a relieved sigh and smiled at you in turn, then glanced over at the door. "I have no idea when they'll be back... do you want to continue this in my room?" his eyes slowly and hopefully made their way back to yours.

you nodded and squealed a bit when he suddenly scooped you up in his arms, smile growing wider as he made his way to his bedroom.

and that’s how you got here- cutting to when he gently sets you down on the bed, and you scoot back a bit to lay down comfortably. quickly following, his body covers yours and he begins kissing you again.

your arms instinctively move, one wrapping around his broad shoulders, the other cupping his cheek as you move your lips against his. his own hands, now free due to the fact that he’s propped up on one of his forearms, caress your waist and the the top of your head respectively.

after a few minutes of him focusing on your lips, he starts making his way down your neck. they’re feather light kisses at first to make you giggle, but eventually he finds the sensitive spot he always loved to mark up and the sweet sounds turn into shallow, shuddery breaths.

you whine as soon as he starts sucking on it and you bring your hand up from his cheek to his hair. "mmn... tetsu..."

he pulls away just enough so that you can still feel his lips against your flesh as he trails them up your neck to hover just over your ear. "you have no idea," he breathes out, voice low and far more erotic than you think he intended, "how much I've missed this."

you shudder and turn your face away at the tingly sensation, but the hand on your waist darts up to tilt your chin back in his direction. one thing you always appreciated about kuroo was how tenderly he handled you, no matter the tone of your late night endeavors. he was always gentle with you- not in a way that made you feel fragile, but rather in a way that told you he truly cared for you, treasured you, adored you.

the idea that this is still the case turns you on even more and makes your brain go a bit fuzzy.

when your eyes met his once more, you could see that adoration pooling in them. “look at me, sweetheart.”

you nodd slightly in his firm, yet still very soft grasp and keep your eyes trained on his. you could feel yourself getting wet as they trail over your face, and you swear your entire body feels warm as he gives you a rare type of smile only reserved for times like these.

he leans in to kiss you again and his hand moves from your face to toy with the lower hem of your dress. “you look absolutely gorgeous in this, baby, but do you think can we take it off?” he’s still speaking in the low, sultry tone that always drives you wild- you’re certain that you’d do anything he asked of you with that voice.

you sit up a little and move to unzip the dress, but he takes your hands and gives you a look. “ah ah- let me, pretty girl, you don’t have to move a muscle.”

it’s almost jarring how easily you both fall back into it. as soon as your dress is off, his shirt follows and he’s back to hovering over you. it really feels as though no time has passed since your last time with him.

just more proof that this is right.

he wastes no time in ridding you of your bra and himself of his shirt before pushing you back down onto the bed.

the room is once again filled with sounds of soft moans and gasps as he kisses your chest and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. he alternates between swirling his tongue around it and sucking. kuroo didn’t let your other breast go unattended for long, though, as he begins teasing the hardened bud with his fingers.

“aah, tetsu… please…” you gasped out.

the man on top of you chuckles, and in between switching sides he looks at you from under his eyelashes. “still so sensitive, hm? it’s cute.”

you resist the urge to hide your face and instead opt for throwing your head back when he suddenly sucks on the other nipple.

heat continues to build inside of you until he eventually he trails his kisses down the valley of your breasts, across your ribcage and down to your tummy. he spends a little extra time there, and you have to gently tug on his hair and whine about him taking too long for him to break away from your skin.

“let me worship you, angel. missed your body so much.” his voice is barely audible, the words murmured as though he was in a trance. you feel your pussy clench around nothing at his confession and bite back a whimper.

his lips curl upwards while pressed against your stomach and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. “keep your eyes on me, baby. don’t ever want to be away from you again,” he commands.

he rests his chin on your pubic bone and traces the elastic band of your panties with two familiar fingers. “you wore my favourite.”

heat rushes to your face and you do turn away this time, but he makes a disapproving noise you’re all too familiar with. “sweetheart, what did I just tell you?”

you bite your lip and force your eyes back to his.

he rewards you with a tender kiss to your belly and a “there’s a good girl, knew she was in there…” before he pulls your panties off.

you grow nervous, though you know you don’t need to be with him, and close your legs. his eyes soften significantly at the action. you're not sure why exactly the nerves get to you now of all times, especially considering how much you like his stricter side, but they do and he sees it.

he drops the strict act and rubs reassuring circles to your inner thigh. you've always preferred your softer sessions, anyway. “hey, it’s alright. I’m gonna take good care of you… missed my girl so much, just want to make you feel good, okay? we’ll save that for another time. it’s just you and me now, baby.”

you nod and a wave of calm washes over you at the reassurance. you let him pry your legs apart and gasp as he dives in.

he starts with wet kisses working their way up your thighs, to your slit and then up to your clit before he takes the bud into his mouth and sucks on it. you let out a soft moan and buck your hips into his face.

"mmn," he pulls away for a second and holds your hips down. "don't thrash, princess, just let me do all the work."

and he does. once he really gets into the groove of eating you out, you're a mess on his bed- legs shaking over his shoulders, cunt clenching around his tongue and whimpering out little thank you's when he makes you cum for the first time that night.

but he doesn't stop there. "tastes so good, baby, need more," he says in between licking your juices from your folds. "c’mon, just one more. you can do it," he picks up the pace again, and before you know it you're begging for more, too.

"tetsu- ah~!" you moan when he exchanges licking for sucking on your still sensitive clit again. you feel like you're on fire as he draws you closer and closer to reaching your second high.

you tangle your hands in his hair and he groans, sending vibrations throughout your core. you cry out and arch off the bed, spilling into his mouth.

this time when he pulls away, he slithers back up your body and kisses you. "see how good you taste, baby? best in the world, haven't I always told you that?"

your stomach twists from the praise and you turn your head to the side bashfully, trying to stabilize your breathing. he holds himself up above you and strokes your cheek with his knuckles, watching you fondly. it does nothing but make you more dizzy with affection.

when you've calmed down enough, he whispers "do you still want to-"

"yes." you cut him off and he chuckles.

"okay baby," he crawls off of you and reaches for his nightstand. he opens the drawer and-

your stomach sinks when you see an open box of condoms. the thought of him being with other girls makes you feel green with envy which you suppose isn’t fair considering you’ve been broken up for months, but you’re still a little fuzzy and too high on your own emotions right now to care.

he looks between you and the box and immediately catches on when an unexpected tear falls from your eye.

“oh, baby no-“ he takes one from the box and quickly returns to your side. “I haven’t been using these,” he cups your face and strokes his thumb under your eye.

“you haven’t?” you sniffle and he shakes his head right away.

you pout. “but then-”

kuroo cuts you off with a roll of his eyes. “one of my roommates got them for me as a joke for my birthday. I only opened them because he kept asking to borrow them.”

you digest his words and slowly look up at him. he’s already looking at you and you can’t keep your eyes from watering some more. the thought of him being intimate with someone new when you’ve spent the past few months rejecting everyone your friends forced your way.

“I haven’t even looked at anyone else since we broke up,” he murmurs against your hairline. “missed you too much.”

you nod, finding no traces of dishonesty on his features. “I haven’t been with anyone either… I wasn’t over you. I didn’t want to be,” you admit, voice soft.

he smiles and presses kisses from your scalp down to your cheeks. “such a sweet girl I have, hm? how about you help me out here?”

he tugs off his sweats and your attention is drawn to the tent his boxers. you bite your lip and reach for the band but he takes your hand and places the condom on your palm.

you blink up at him, confused. “you don’t want me to-“

he shakes his head and tugs his boxers down. his cock springs free and you gasp a little at the sight of his tip- red and smeared with pre-cum.

“no, angel, I need to be inside of you. just help me put it on.”

you make quick work of tearing the wrapper off and rolling the condom over his length. he groans at the feeling of your knuckles grazing his skin, but as soon as you pull away he’s flipping you on your back and lining himself up against your entrance.

he knocks his forehead against yours. “ready, baby?”

you nod and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. he leans down for a kiss and slowly pushes into you as your lips connect.

you whine a little at the stretch and he pauses everything. “you’re okay,” he reassures you, giving you time to adjust.

you nod when you feel ready for him to keep going and he bottoms out with a strangled moan. “you’re unreal, you know that?”

his praise pulls a giggle from your throat but it quickly turns into a breathy sigh when he starts moving.

he starts off slow, but soon enough you’re both lost in the moment and his pace picks up. within the next few minutes, his room is filled with sounds of pleasure and sweet words exchanged between lovers.

“you’re perfect,” he says, angling his lips closer to your ear. his hips stutter when you clamp around him at his words.

his thrusts reach deep enough to get you crying out for him. “tetsu, faster! please!”

“ah- there’s a good girl, love hearing you beg for more.” he nibbles the spot just below your ear, soothing it with his tongue.

“I love you,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders.

kuroo groans at the sensation and goes a bit harder. “you needed this just as bad as I did, hm? it’s okay, I’ve got you now, pretty girl. just relax.”

you hide your face in his neck and try to stifle your moans, but he doesn’t appreciate that one bit. “stop that, let me hear you,” he commands and you immediately pull your head back.

he grins down at you and kisses your nose. “sound so pretty when you’re falling apart on my cock, you know better than to hide those noises from me.”

you nod and find yourself unable to look away from his face, as if you were in a trance. he’s absolutely gorgeous on top of you- why would you want to look away?

“you close, baby?” he asks after your walls tighten even more.

“mmhm,” you whimper and lean up for a kiss.

“me too,” he whispers and tugs one of your hands away from his shoulder. he intertwines your fingers and presses is above your head against the pillow. “needed this just as badly as I did, hm? it’s okay, I’ve got you, baby.”

doing so good for me.

you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

you feel so fucking good, princess.

all of his praise sent shockwaves throughout your body and soon enough you’re tipping over the edge. your back is arched, head thrown back and a loud cry of his name is drawn from you as you cum for the second time.

he follows soon after and you feel his whole body shudder when he spills into his condom.

your breaths mix together as you both come down from your highs. it’s quiet for a few moments before he carefully pulls out and disposes of the soiled contraceptive in the trash next to his bed. he rolls back into bed, facing you.

he strokes your cheek with his knuckles and smiles at you when you open your eyes and turn to face him as well. “hi pretty girl, you okay?”

you take a deep breath and curl into his chest. you still feel slightly too light and any thoughts not related to him are muddled. you’re overcome with an intense wave of affection for him.

he must notice, because when you manage to peek up at him again, he snorts. “yeah, I don’t know what I was expecting.”

he knows better than to try and leave the bed right away (memories of you whining and clinging to him when he did attempt it early on in your relationship flash through his mind and he smiles), so instead he wraps his arms around you and presses kisses to your hairline.

you savour the familiar feeling of being wrapped in his arms and nuzzle into his bare chest. the most comfortable feeling in the world.

eventually he does get up to grab a damp cloth and some water, and he informs you that you can use his bathroom for whatever you need.

you’re both following the same routine you had when you were together as if you hadn’t broken up at all.

now that you’ve regained some clarity, you start to worry about what exactly that means.

you’ve both admitted to missing each other like crazy, but you assume you’ll need to have a serious conversation with kuroo about whether or not you should get back together.

you ponder over this on his bed for a bit longer before he interrupts your thoughts. “we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he starts. “we can talk about it tomorrow morning if you would prefer, but…”

he pauses like he’s not sure if he should continue. you nod encouragingly, curious as to where this is going (thought you think you know). “but I meant absolutely everything I said tonight. um, before and while we were… uh. busy.”

you giggle a little at his shy demeanour before considering the weight of his words. “we could talk about it tomorrow morning, but I think we both already know what we want from this right?”

he doesn’t need to nod, but he does anyway. “I definitely have an answer already.”

you knock your forehead against his. “so… are we officially back together then?”

he offers you the widest grin he’s thrown your way all night. “I think we are, sweetheart. We’ll make it work this time, I promise.”

“I promise,” you repeat.

the rest of the night is spent cuddling under covers, sharing kisses and secrets you’ve missed out on sharing these past few months.

“I love you,” you say, before you finally drift off for the night.

you don’t hear him, but he’s quick to return the sentiment. “I love you too.”

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

BONUS:

the following morning, you wake up to your phone ringing. you groan when you see it’s your friend and realize you never texted her back last night to tell her you’re okay.

you look over at kuroo, still sound asleep beside you, and answer as quietly as possible. “hello?”

“oh thank goodness you’re alright, why weren’t you picking up? we all called you a million times!”

you check and see a ton of missed calls from more of your friends who saw you leave the party last night. “I’m sorry, I was asleep,” you say sincerely, only twisting the truth a little bit.

you feel slightly bad about it, you mentally promise her to tell her everything later.

before she can respond, your boyfriend sits up (when did he even wake up?) and says into the phone, “sorry, it’s my fault. but I promise I took good care of her,” he smirks at you.

you flinch when she shrieks into your ear. “YOU WERE WITH KUROO?!”

glaring at him, he snickers and takes the phone from you. “she’ll call you back later, we’re still catching up.”

“no, wait-“ he hangs up the phone and tosses it onto his sheets.

you pout at him. “tetsu, c’mon.”

he kisses your cheek. “I really didn’t meant for it to come off as rude, I swear. I just wanted a relaxing morning with you before you have to leave.”

you sigh and fall back into the soft comfort of his pillows. “it’s okay,” you say. “I really didn’t feel like giving her the rundown first thing in the morning, anyway. you really tired me out last night,” you peer up at him.

he laughs. “oh really? we’ve gotta build up your stamina again, pretty girl. I wasn’t lying-“ he crawls over and hovers a few inches above you. “we still have a lot of catching up to do.”

you mentally pat yourself on the back for answering his texts. definitely not your worst idea.

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I swear I’ll get better at writing smut, folks 🫡

but for my first time writing it, I don’t think it’s horrible. if the ending feels a bit rushed, it’s because I’ve literally had this sitting in my drafts since miss olivia rodrigo released the music video for this song last august and I wanted it out 🙃.

tagging @nyctophilicroses bc I remember you commented on the original post I made asking abt exes to lovers with kuroo 🥹

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader smut #kuroo tetsurou x reader smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader

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hannieween · 10 months ago

Text

wanderer | heartbreaker series | c.sc

You were far from the girl that Seungcheol use to love. Because, time has a funny way of changing things and it sure as hell changed you.

✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader ✧ genre: smut (18+) ✧ aus: boss seungcheol, exes to lovers ✧ word count: 18.5k

↣ part i | other fics | taglist | ko-fi

₊🎧: blame – i.m ♡ | bad – so!yoon

₊ nsfw tags under the cut

✧ warnings: hurt/comfort harassment: gross interactions with men, kinda ? slow burn—it takes them a while to get down to business, foul language, smut with plot, daddy kink, dom seungcheol, reader is really subby, big dick seungcheol, pussy drunk seungcheol, oral sex (f, m), multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v sex, manhandling, rough doggy style, creampies, dirty talk, pet names: love, angel, baby, newb, newbie (hers) daddy (his) ✧ please if you see mistakes, cont. errors no u didn't i'm very sleep deprived

✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part ii

A streak of bad luck has been following you around lately, so it seems.

The past few days you have been stuck with a decision, one apparently easy to make, but something held you back. And the dilemma had settled a feeling of deep regret in the pit of your stomach, from the moment you wake up, to the moment you laid your head in your pillows.

You were used to late nights. In fact, for the past two years you've been staying up late, dealing with the stressful pace of academic life and it slowly made you lose the need for sleep at night.

It was only 2 AM. And you were tired enough to force yourself to sleep, but the dilemma had you feeling alarmed and anxious to the point that it shook your body, impulsing you to take action, to do something, anything.

You sighed, trying to relieve the tumultuous pressure crushing you from the inside.

In a sudden movement, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, sitting up and saw your feet hanging.

You remembered the times you wished you could just pick up the phone and call your ex boyfriend and tell him how much you missed him, and how deeply remorseful you were of breaking up with him.

It haunted you for weeks, which turned into months and now you were faced with the possibility of going back together, after two years of zero contact.

But, even if it seemed impossible, going back to Choi Seungcheol was not the most urgent of your decisions to make.

Bad luck, it seems.

First, you had to get a job quick in a local bar due to your bills piling up and your stipend not being sufficient to live on. Then, you had the surprise to find that your ex is the owner of said bar. Not only that, things had ended up bad with him. So the only solution was to have sex with him on his office, obviously.

And now, your roommate is giving you the very late notice that you have been mandated to vacate the apartment you've been renting for a year. Apparently you got the notice a month ago, but your roommate just forgot to tell you until it was evidently too late.

You packed your things, which luckily for you, were not many. So you only occupied a few boxes for your clothes and stuff that fit perfectly on the trunk of your car and the backseat.

Now, you just needed a new place.

And it was in the following morning that you decided to leave your apartment. You knew that this situation could be solved through some legal counsel, but for months, you and your roommate have been at odds and you suspected that was why they 'forgot' to tell you about it all.

It was tuesday and also the day that you had to vacate your place. Returning to the bar after a day off was not as fulfilling in the sense that you had little to no rest. Packing things, disposing of some others.

And now, you needed to sleep.

But the memory of fucking your ex occupied your head, it needed your attention. His hands all over your body, his soft moans in your ear, the very familiar touch of his lips. The memory itself felt like a fever dream.

A dream which you dragged onto your subconscious long enough to also haunt you in your sleep, when it finally came. You dreamed of him, you saw flashes of the night you met him and experienced again all the awful things you made him go through.

The sensible thing was to let your boss know that you had run into trouble and needed to find a place soon. But being so that would mean talking to Seungcheol, you decided not to tell anyone just yet. You could manage, you could get crafty.

Sleeping in your battered Hyundai was a whole new adventure for you. And you were pretty much all for it. You made it feel cozy for you: throwing a bunch of pillows and blankets on the co-pilot seat, leaned back and you even found a way to change into your pyjamas inside the car.

But that would come after your shift.

Tuesdays, according to Wonwoo, were really slow. To the point that he was leaning on the countertop, each elbow propped to hold a book in his hands.

"Where's Mingyu?" you asked when the bar opened for business and were one bartender short.

"He's not coming today," Wonwoo, his roommate replied shortly.

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be alright," he cooed and lowered his book, pushing the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "His girl broke up with him yesterday morning."

"Huh? Why?" you gasped. "I thought–"

"Yeah, me too," Wonwoo said and scrunched up his nose in discomfort. "It caught him by surprise too, destroyed him. Boss told him he could take the day off."

You faltered for a second. "God, he must be feeling terrible," you said and thought of the happy-go-lucky guy, heartbroken.

"Mmm-mph," Wonwoo hummed and clasped his hands together on the countertop. "Well, there's not much to do for today, I think. Boss will come by later tonight so maybe we could do the little boring tasks."

And by that, Wonwoo meant doing the things you did not have the opportunity to get done during the weekend shifts, tasks ranged from the usual to deep cleaning.

"You have a thing for cleanliness," you pointed after an hour of deep cleaning all the utensils for the bar, the blenders, the mixers. He even emptied the ice machine and gave it a thorough sweep.

"It clears my mind off things," he mentioned quietly beside you.

"Mm, I see what you mean," you nodded. It had been an hour of pure silence between you, except for the low humming of the speakers that played something of your request and you noticed that Wonwoo was silently vibing to it.

Wonwoo could be a friend, you thought.

"What does your mind need clearing of?" you pried while you cleaned all of the napkin holders thoroughly.

"A few things that have been occupying it for a few days," he replied with a soft tone to his voice.

"I assume as much," you quipped with a grin, which he did not see. Wonwoo's back was turned to you as he seemed to be finishing the tedious task.

"That's bartender talk," Wonwoo said, turning around as he dried his hands from the little bits of ice with a cloth rag.

"Or friend talk?" you suggested with a shy smile.

One thing you were certain of these past few days of drowning in your own thoughts in silence was that you needed friends. It was a truth you've been ignoring for your own sake.

After the breakup, your closest friends seemed to fade quietly into the background, evidently siding with Seungcheol. Since most of your friends were his friends too, it was obvious whose side they had taken, but you did not resent them for their choices.

"It's nothing, newbie," Wonwoo sighed and nodded to the task you were in the process of. "Almost done with that?"

"Yeah, why?" you said, trying not to convey that Wonwoo just refused your invitation of being friends.

"Boss is coming," he said, and he sent an inquisitive glance your way and nodded to the front door of the bar.

You jolted and turned with a gasp to face the door before you could even take control of your body.

Only to find that the door stood still, and no one was approaching it.

"What?"

Wonwoo coughed and you turned to see him, a weak attempt to hide a chuckle. "I see," he said in a nonchalant manner.

"What? What do you see?" your eyes narrowed.

He mumbled with a very tiny voice an unconvincing 'nothing', pretending to busy himself with another task.

"Tell me," you insisted, glaring at him.

Wonwoo looked over the thick paste of his glasses and grinned at your seething expression. "Fine, okay," he said and stood up right facing you. "Do you... have a crush on him?"

"A crush?" your voice raised an octave higher. "A crush?!"

Wonwoo pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, like a minor infatuation–"

"I know what a crush is, Wonwoo," you stopped him with a laugh.

"Ah, yeah. Well, do you?" he pushed his eyebrows.

"Why would I have a crush on him? I met him last week," you muttered unconvincingly and looked away from his curious eyes.

"And? I'm only asking because you act weird around him, even when he's not being a pissy asshole," he put in and you raised your gaze to find him scratching his chin.

"I don't think he's a pissy asshole," you interjected, and then shook your head. "I mean, he can be sometimes, but he has given me no reason to think that."

Wonwoo chuckled. "Right. Wait 'til something really pisses him off," he muttered. "But that's not what I wanted to say! You're really calm and collected and the minute he steps in, you're weird and shifty."

You looked at him in disbelief.

Wonwoo and Mingyu have been every step of the way with you since you started working at Seungcheol's bar. And you saw a potential of starting a friendship with both of them. It felt good to finally have a talk with someone in such a way.

"You are quite the detective," you pointed with a huff. "I just feel unnerved by him, Wonwoo. What can I say, you really helped pushing the asshole narrative around him."

"Around who?"

A gasp left your mouth again, but now it sent real shivers down your spine. You turned around to find Seungcheol standing behind you, quirking up an eyebrow at you.

"No one," you stuttered.

He wore what he usually did to work, just a plain white t-shirt, black jeans and boots. A pair of sunglasses pushed his pale blond hair back, it was still humid from what you assumed was a recently taken shower.

"Why are you chatting during work?" he asked with a low tone and looked at Wonwoo.

"I–we, we were working!" you blurted and dropped your gaze to your feet. "And talking... for a bit."

"What about?"

"A-bout something," you muttered nervously.

"Boss, she's terrified," Wonwoo chuckled and you lifted your gaze to see Seungcheol grinning from ear to ear.

And then he winked at you.

Your stomach dropped and you turned to see that Wonwoo was not watching your interaction with your ex turned boss.

"It's a slow day today," Seungcheol said with a commanding aura. "But don't relax too much, we're one staff short out here and I have a meeting later today so I can't be around much. It'll be just you two."

"Got it boss," Wonwoo nodded.

You nodded too, unable to speak a word under the nervousness tying a knot in your throat.

Wonwoo left the countertop and entered the kitchen, promptly leaving you and Seungcheol alone.

"How are you?" Seungcheol asked, his gaze had softened and started reading your face.

"I'm fine, Cheol," you put in unconvincingly. "Just a bit tired."

"We're just starting the week," he pointed, his eyebrow lifting slightly.

"I don't get rest," you said and added: "PhD stuff," you shrugged.

A restless feeling made your insides twist. Seungcheol knew you better than anyone on the planet. He knew your every mannerism when you lied and the shrug was a dead giveaway.

And he was also one of the smartest men you've ever met in your life.

"You better get around managing your time with that," he advised. "Don't want you to be overworked one week into this job."

You noticed his tone was not condescending, he looked a bit worried, even. His big brown eyes went over your worn expression, the dark circles under your eyes, chapped lips. And probably it did not help that you decided to forgo makeup that day.

"Okay... boss," you muttered softly.

But he was turning away from you already, effectively finishing your conversation when he pushed the 'STAFF ONLY' door and disappeared.

Deeply obfuscated, you meekly rubbed your hands in your jeans to wipe the sweat from them and returned to your seemingly pointless task, wanting nothing more but your shift to be over.

Seungcheol had been distant, keeping interactions with you at minimum. You understood he was giving you space, but you could not help but thing that he was probably taking your silence for a rejection to his proposal of going back together.

That night you had sex with him in his 'office', Seungcheol told you to think about his proposal, and give him an answer whenever and if you're ready.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now," he had whispered, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. "But please think about it, will you?"

You saw his brows knit together and you could've swore something stabbed you in the heart. "I will. I'll think about it," you assured him.

From that moment on, there was not a single day when you did not think about him. He plagued your mind, every day and every hour. The feeling of Seungcheol being in your waking thought resembled the time you were freshly broken up, and there was not a day that went by that you didn't think of him.

But of course, this time it was different.

After your shift, you pretended to drive away in your car, only to get back after driving a good fifteen minutes around the block and parking on the small parking lot of the bar.

Sleeping in your old Hyundai was a whole new adventure for you. And you were pretty much all for it. You made it feel cozy for you: throwing a bunch of pillows and blankets on the co-pilot seat, leaned back and you even found a way to change into your pyjamas inside the car.

You rested your head and propped up your feet on the deck while you tried to sleep. First night sleeping in your car was not bad, even as a voice in the back of your mind told you this was supposed to be hitting rock bottom.

But in reality, it wasn't. It was temporary, you told yourself. Shit happens. And you got yourself in this mess, so you would get yourself out.

Now, another one of the worries in your head was something that you feared so much you tried not to pay attention to: Seungcheol.

Being the one that broke up with him, you certainly had a lot of guilt to carry. And you still needed to have that conversation with Seungcheol, even if he was apparently avoiding it.

Said guilt manifested itself as a painful jolt in your heart every single time you thought about him. You knew you still loved him, probably never stopped. But you also broke his heart.

If you were even thinking of going back to him, you needed to have that conversation. And you weren't sure if you were equipped to face what he had to say.

Last time you checked the clock before finally falling asleep it read 5 AM. Which would mean that you had about three hours to sleep if you wanted to get important stuff done the following day.

On the following morning, you woke up at 11 AM. You quickly changed into normal clothes inside your car. It was so cold outside that your windows were thankfully condensed. You couldn't see out and probably and hopefully no one saw you change clothes.

You drove to your university campus. One of the perks of the campus was the gym, which had showers and hot water, everything you needed to freshen up. You tended to your needs and quickly moved to the library to do some apartment scouting.

Being in a PhD meant that you had to do a lot of research, mostly. Your tasks were reading, writing and presenting weekly results. But due to the time crunch you were in, you had to make do and search for a new place to live and send out some emails pertaining to your research.

So you had about six hours to maybe find a place to move in as soon as possible. It was a difficult feat, though, to find something affordable, in a close proximity to where you used to live and leasing immediately.

Hours flew by, your stomach jolting from anxiousness and hunger when you had to leave the library and drive to the bar.

You bit the inside of your lower lip. The mere idea of seeing Seungcheol had you sighing and muffling a small yelp of pure anxiety and your forehead hit the steering wheel, and you did it again, and again.

Three taps on your window made you jump in your seat and look up to find Wonwoo standing outside of your car, looking to the interior with a concerned face.

"Are you okay, newbie?" he asked, standing back as you opened the door of your car and stepped out.

"I'm fine, just hungry," you partially lied. You were hungry, but that was not the reason why you were banging your head against the wheel.

"You know that you have a meal, right? Boss didn't tell you?" he said slowly, pointing to the bar with his thumb.

"Nope," you shook your head once.

His eyes focused on the backseat of your car, which was stuffed with boxes, then he spotted your blankets and pillows huddled in the passenger's seat.

"Are you–," his eyes snapped back to yours. "Are you living in your car?"

You closed your eyes in defeat, sighing. "Yes," you replied flatly.

"Why?" he looked alarmed, but then he quickly added: "Are you okay? Do you want a place to crash?"

"I'm fine, Wonwoo," you tried to reassure him, but the tone in your voice betrayed you. "I... like it."

He blinked in bewilderment. "You're telling me that this is your choice?"

Wonwoo was so tall that you had to angle your face up to see him, your eyes squinted because of the daylight hitting your eyes.

"Yeah, it is," you weren't lying, but telling the whole story didn't seem like something you were equipped to do at the moment.

"I'd ask if you have someone you can stay with but if you did you'd be doing that already," he put in simply and then crunched his nose instantly. "Crap, sorry. Please ignore I said that."

You laughed awkwardly. "What was that?"

"I tend to have Freudian slips when I'm really really tired," he brought a hand to the nape of his neck to rub embarrassedly.

"What–Freudian slips," you huffed. "Well don't let me be around you every time you don't get enough sleep," you laughed.

"Just smack me in the head if I say something like that again," he looked embarrassed and it was a cute sight from the ever reserved Wonwoo.

"Noted," your eyebrows quirked up. "But I'm fine, you don't have to worry."

"You're not convincing me," he stated. "You can crash in our place, I promise Mingyu won't have an issue with it," he offered kindly.

Your heart swelled a little to the idea of someone worrying about you. Even if that someone you didn't completely know yet.

"And we're also not like, creepy or whatever. We'll give you space," he added, seeing your hesitation over it.

"I'll think about it over food, alright?" you gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, though. I really appreciate it."

That made him smile sweetly at you and nodded towards the bar with his head. "Alright, let's go inside."

"Hey, can I ask you a favour?" you walked by his side through the small parking lot behind the bar.

"Sure, anything," he nodded again with his head.

"Can you... not mention this to anyone? Specially Se-seungcheol?" you stuttered a bit.

He paused and looked at you. "You got it," he replied with a hint of intrigue in his eyes.

"Thanks," you muttered before going through the back door of the bar.

The dark hallway smelled faintly of floor detergent like it did before your shift. All of the doors were closed, so you didn't know yet where Seungcheol was yet as you walked through the door that led to the interior of the bar.

"No problem," he muttered softly and opened the door that led to the bar. "The reason why I approached you was because I have something I forgot to tell you last night."

You smiled. "You're being weird," you pointed. "Tell me."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, to then toss his backpack in the last booth at the back of the bar. "I'm tired, leave me alone," he muttered shyly. "I'm recruiting an extra pair of hands to help you during the weekends. I'm actually interviewing someone in a few minutes."

"Oh?" your eyebrows arched up. "That's nice! Do you want any pointers for your jerk persona now?"

He laughed shyly, his nose wrinkling a bit. "It's okay, Newbie. I'm not doing that this time."

"Why?" you frowned.

"Cheol is going to listen to the interview. And I don't want to see what his reaction would be," he muttered, looking around the bar for any signs of his boss. Your boss.

"Yeah, I wouldn't either," you mumbled with a smile.

"Go get your meal and I'll cover you if necessary, got it?" he nodded to the kitchen.

Wonwoo could be a friend, you thought. You had friends, yes. Some people you met in university that are in your life.

After the breakup, your closest friends seemed to fade quietly into the background, siding with Seungcheol. Since most of your friends were his friends too, it was obvious whose side they had taken, but you didn't resent them for their choice.

The menu for today was chicken hamburgers.

Mingyu sat with you in the kitchen, keeping each other company as you both ate in silence. Mingyu ate his food at a slow pace and heavy reluctance. You noticed he was hungry enough to keep eating, but had little to no energy to do so.

It broke your heart to see him like this, his puppy eyes dimmed, the heaviness of his movements, barely talking. You gently patted his shoulder once and he almost jolted awake from his thoughts.

Mingyu patted the back of your hand and nodded in understanding.

You briefly thought of Seungcheol and that made your heart lurch even harder. Who stood by him when you left?

When you came out of the kitchen, some ten minutes later you started with your tasks, which mainly consisted in arranging cutlery, napkins, etc.

You could hear over the music Wonwoo's low voice speak with another person. So you assumed that he perhaps was in his interview, and you knew Seungcheol would be close, so you stuck to the other side of the bar, pretending to be busy.

The day before, during your shift, you took the same tactic: pretending to be busy to avoid even looking in the direction of your ex.

So you were restocking bottles of ketchup in the bartop where Mingyu was also busy himself, and didn't looked as glum when he had something to do.

His eyes lifted up and toward the bar's entrance.

"Oh, hi there Jeonghan-hyung," he called with a lazy smile. "Are you here to see Cheol?"

The exchange was quick, so the moment you looked up from Mingyu to the person he was talking to, you saw your former best friend walk into the bar, but stopping dead in his tracks when he saw your face.

"Jeonghan?" you blurted, your voice quivered with emotion, picking up a higher pitched tone.

His eyes widened and he approached cautiously as if he had seen a ghost. You identified with the feeling; your heart was pounding a mile a minute as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Despite your best efforts, tears welled up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion of seeing your best friend after years of no contact.

"Oh, you two guys know each other?" Mingyu's voice sounded faint in the buzz in your ears.

His brow furrowed. "Uh, yeah, she's-"

You made a motion to shook your head ever so slightly, as if saying stop right now, abort mission, and he, knowing you like the palm of his hand understood in a second.

"She's an old friend," he pressed his lips in an empty smile. He closed the distance between you and him.

You flinched a little when he pulled you into a hesitant hug, seemingly playing his part in the old friends thing; a situation you hadn't entirely processed yet. At least he understood your silent message and stopped himself from mentioning you were Seungcheol's ex.

"You got some explaining to do," he muttered in your ear so quickly that you had to take a second to process what he'd said.

"I know," you whispered and pulled away.

Jeonghan was the first friend Seungcheol introduced you to when you started dating, almost six years ago. The two of you hit it off instantly and formed a strong bond that ended rather tragically when you left.

So it could probably come as a shock to find the person who broke his best friend's heart after two years of zero contact.

And you didn't blame him.

"Uh, yeah. We're old friends," you muttered shakily, turning away from the still pale looking Jeonghan.

"Are you working here?" he asked in a low tone, and looked around.

You followed his gaze, understanding that he was looking for Seungcheol.

"Yeah," you replied with a shaky breath. "I've only been here for two weeks."

"What?" he whispered bewilderedly. "Where is he?"

"If you're looking for Cheol, he's interviewing someone right now," Mingyu interjected, still paying close attention to the conversation between you and your former friend.

Your eyes could not stop looking at him. Unchanging, never aging Jeonghan. Once your best friend, your brother and confidant. The ache in your heart was so sharp that it made your breathing quicken, swelling in your chest.

Jeonghan nodded. "Mingoo, can you tell him that I'm here, please?"

"Of course," the taller man turned to carry out the favour.

It was evident to you that Jeonghan wanted to get a minute alone with you. If Mingyu noticed it too, he didn't look the part.

"What the fuck?" Jeonghan whispered, dragging you to a corner and far from the ears of anyone else. "I thought you were in the other side of the planet. The fuck are you doing here? In Cheol's bar?"

"I came ba-back a year ago," you muttered, the internal turmoil had your in the brink of shaking.

"And?" his hand was still on your shoulder from where he dragged you out of earshot, he was leaning slightly toward you, still looking deeply confused and alarmed.

"I'm cut off from my family–,"

"Again? Fuck," he run his hand through his short black hair irately.

"This time is definite," you repeated the same thing you did to your ex. "And I needed a job so I got here but I swear I had no idea this was Seungcheol's. I promise I didn't know and Wonwoo hired me and–"

"Stop, stop," he whispered hurriedly, looking over at the bartop.

Wonwoo was returning from the interview, looking over at you and Jeonghan with his analytic eyes, the expression on his face didn't give away anything else.

"Han," Mingyu called from behind the bartop. "Boss says to meet him in his office."

Jeonghan nodded and turned to look at you. "They don't know, right?" he muttered through tight lips.

"Seungcheol doesn't want them to know."

"Fucking hell," he said under a breath. "I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

You nodded, feeling like you could cry. Which Jeonghan noticed, and quickly snuck a hand on the back of your head to pull you in a warm embrace, your face landed on his shoulder and you stifled back a sob.

"Come on, don't cry. Everything's fine," he muttered softly. "Bar's almost about to open and you don't want to be all puffy and red for that now, do ya?"

"Shuddup, Han," you giggled.

"I'm just saying. Now, I have to get going. But I'll call you okay?"

The hand on the back of your head ruffled your hair before pulling away, and you watched him walk away and disappear through the door that led to your ex's office.

You stood there contemplating the nothingness for a second before you felt someone's eyes looking fixedly at you. Wonwoo was working, but keeping an inquisitive eye on you.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to ignore his scrutiny by continuing to get the bar ready for open hours.

When the bar finally opened, you were eager to immerse yourself carrying orders out and basically doing anything that could distance yourself mentally from your ex.

After an hour, Jeonghan came back to the bar, looking the way he did when he needed to speak his mind. But he just pulled you aside after making sure you were free enough to do so.

"I'm still confused about all this shit," he muttered briefly. "Look, I only came here to drop something off and I need to go, but I want to catch up with you," then he hugged you again.

You returned the hug, closing your eyes to savour the moment as best as you could.

"I'll see you soon," he reassured you and pulled away once again, leaving the bar at once.

In a few words, your day was a bit shitty so far. It was the first time in two years you saw Jeonghan, who in all fairness, had all the right to not even acknowledge you after leaving his best friend heartbroken.

But to your surprise, he was open to have a conversation with you.

Something you were looking forward to.

The bar was starting to really pack up by 9 PM. And you understood what Wonwoo said about having a helping hand soon, because you could barely manage. Being a wednesday night, the bar was reasonably packed and you were growing more and more tired.

So you had to deal with a number of problems: despite being quick and efficient, you were only one person to cover most of the tables. Most of your orders got delivered on time, but you couldn't always be as fast enough and a couple of customers were starting to get annoyed.

Feeling stressed, you let out a heavy breath while you looked at the machine, preparing the bill for a table.

"Do you want some help?" you heard Seungcheol ask.

You turned abruptly with a start, a hand flying to your chest. "You scared me," you explained but it was evident enough.

His eyebrow arched and his lips pressed in a line. "I have to stop doing that," he muttered with a nod.

"Yeah," you sighed, straightening your t-shirt. "I'll appreciate that—some help, I mean. Thanks," you tried giving him a smile.

But you just couldn't. You looked up at his dark eyes, adorned by his beautiful eyebrows that frowned at seeing your face.

"Something wrong?" he muttered, reading your face.

"Can we-," you started, but you got distracted by someone on the tables waving for your attention. "Sorry, I have to get this," you got the bill and grabbed the pin pad and left to continue working.

You walked over to the table that was occupied by two older men. The one that had waved you down had that look on his face that made your skin crawl and put your guard up.

"There you are, sweetcheeks," he said in a gruff voice, raw from alcohol. "What took you so goddamn long?"

In your experience, you've had many people call you things. It certainly doesn't matter in those times you notice the names mean no harm. But this time, it was different.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up, and something told you to finish the interaction and ask for backup immediately.

"Are you ready to order?" you put in flatly, trying to maintain your expression blank.

"Oof," the other one interjected. "Aren't you nice," he spat with an obvious tone of sarcasm.

You sighed heavily and clicked your pen and pretended to wait for them to order.

"Are we boring you?" one of them spat.

At that, you knew you had to finish the interaction.

"Well, let me know when you're ready to order," you retorted and turned away from the table.

But a rough, calloused hand caught your wrist before you could walk away properly.

"Don't go yet, kitten," one of the two gross men whinged, you didn't care to look who it was.

In a split second, you thought of responding verbally to back off. But every cell in your body just wanted to walk away from the situation. Dealing with gross men was not something you wanted to do in that moment, you just wanted to walk away.

With a clean move, you yanked your wrist away from their grasp, turning to give the deadliest stare you could muster to the guy that dared to touch you and walked away hurriedly.

Neither of Wonwoo or Mingyu appeared to have witnessed the crude exchange. But in your hurry, you stumbled against Seungcheol who was just walking past you.

"What's wrong?" he stopped you, looking at your face carefully.

You probably looked disturbed, and rightfully so—you felt deeply unnerved. It was not your first time dealing with gross men, it wasn't even your first interaction with someone rude in the bar, but it was the first time someone dared to touch you.

"Nothing—those guys are fucking rude," you muttered offhandedly, but you knew there was no deterring from Seungcheol's scrutiny.

"What did they say? What did they do?" he asked darkly.

"Cheol, I'm fine, just–," you looked up, his gaze had hardened completely. You faltered. "They grabbed me and called me gross names," you blurted and held your wrist, trying not to convulse in utter repulsion.

"Who?"

His eyes were devoid of all liveliness, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. That was the real angry Seungcheol you knew.

You pointed meekly towards the table you just walked away from.

"Go to my office," he muttered before approaching the table.

The last thing you saw was Seungcheol make a sign with his hand at Wonwoo, who just nodded and left his post in a heartbeat before you walked to the door and into the hallway.

You made a stop at the bathroom to frantically wash your hands and attempt to calm yourself down. The attempt was futile, though, because you felt like you had been shaken to your core.

When you opened the door to Seungcheol's office, you half expected to find the dark room lively and packed with gamblers. But it was completely vacant, it made you feel uneasy. You desired to hear the bustle of the active gambling tables.

Instead, you sat at a chair near the entrance. Not wanting to go to Seungcheol's large desk in the corner of the room for obvious reasons.

The door was pushed open some ten minutes later, which to you felt like an eternity.

"Are you alright?" Seungcheol closed the door behind him, but he didn't approach.

You nodded with your head. "I'm fine," you muttered. "What happened?"

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "It's taken care of," he replied simply.

But you knew he was acting controlled—probably still containing his anger.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling ashamed. "I could've handled the situation–"

"You don't have to apologize," he cut in, lifting a hand to stop you.

He closed the distance between you and him and crouched in front of you, so now, you were looking down to find his dark gaze.

"Nobody lays a finger on you. You know that, right?" he said as he reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze.

The many times you've heard Seungcheol say that in the past. Oh god, the mental whiplash it gave you to see him like this again, to hear him say the same things he used to when you were together.

You bit your quivering lower lip and nodded. "I know," you replied.

"I can't prevent something like that from happening again. But never apologize for stuff like this. It's not your fault."

You sighed heavily because of the emotions swelling your chest. "Alright," you whispered.

His dark eyes studied your face again, noticing how shaken you still were because he stood up, not letting go of your hand to pull your body gently to his own.

"Come here," he muttered.

You stood up from the chair, being pulled to a warm embrace by Seungcheol. You buried your head in his hard chest and at that, you let yourself crumble under the swell of emotions that plagued your whole day.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay," he whispered, bringing a hand to caress your hair.

God, you could die in his arms. It surely felt like that. So many times had he lent a shoulder for you to air out your emotions, but this time felt like being born again. You stayed in his arms for quite some time until you felt like you were okay and slowly pulled away.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asked in a soft tone.

You nodded, avoiding his eyes. "'m fine. I have to go back," you muttered.

"You don't need to if you don't want to," he suggested.

"That's not fair for the guys," you pointed. "I'll go back. Thank you for... everything," you darted a look.

At seeing his serene eyes, your insides jolted uneasily. You urged to kiss him, to listen to his voice and laugh, it had been so long since you've heard his bursts of laughter you ached for it.

Seungcheol was looking at you attentively, his eyebrows nudged slightly. "You were going to tell me something before."

You sighed, nothing ever escapes him. "Can we talk?"

His gaze softened. "Of course," his lips pursed in a downturned smile.

"After work?" you suggested in a small voice.

"Whenever you want," he replied.

Your heart hurt from how eager he looked for a second.

You nodded and whispered, "Okay," before exiting his office and returning to the bar.

It was the last hours of your shift, so most tables were leaving before the closing hour. The table where the incident happened stood vacant until you closed the bar for the night.

"Guys," Seungcheol called once the place had emptied of customers and everyone was good to go home.

Wonwoo and Mingyu stopped what they were doing in the moment to look at their boss.

"We need to talk about what happened tonight," he sighed heavily and ran a hand through his pale blond hair—a dead giveaway that he was getting heated again.

"Yeah, what happened, boss?" Mingyu frowned. "One minute, Newb was managing the tables just fine and the next you were kicking out two dudes on your own."

Your cheeks flushed and your gaze dropped to the floor.

"Two idiots thought it was okay to lay hands on her," Seungcheol put in darkly, and sighed again. "I apologize for the way I acted but–"

"It's okay," Wonwoo intervened calmly. "We understand."

Your eyes narrowed and you found Wonwoo offering a quick knowing look to you.

"It was... kinda epic boss," Mingyu looked exhilarated at the memory. "I mean, no offence but the way you handled those guys?"

Mingyu made a brief reenactment by using Wonwoo's body as a prop; grabbing him by the nape of his neck and twisting his arm behind his back.

Wonwoo snorted and broke away with a small smile on his lips.

You muffled a groan in sheer embarrassment. "I'm sorry for any inconvenience I caused guys. The least I wanted to do is cause a sce–,"

"What?" Mingyu blurted. "Newb, don't apologize for that. The minute you feel someone is disrespecting you, tell us."

"And if anyone oversteps again, they will be kicked out. By any means necessary. Don't even get their bill. I don't care," Seungcheol instructed.

"Got it boss," Mingyu nodded.

"Also, a new hire is coming in tomorrow, to lift some weight off your shoulders," Wonwoo told you directly.

"Wait, so Newb will need a new nickname? I kind of got used to calling you that."

"How about you call her by her name?" Seungcheol retorted with a huff.

"What's your name again?" he asked you, and burst in a goofy giggle. "I'm kidding, 'm kidding."

You rolled your eyes, but seeing Mingyu laugh easily made you smile and laugh with him.

Seungcheol caught that, a small glint of contentment appeared in his eyes and you could see that the corners of his lips twitched before he pretended to cough and walk away and into his office.

"Freakin' weird," you heard someone whisper and raised your eyes to see Wonwoo shaking his head.

"What is?" you dared ask, seeing that Mingyu had busied himself in other stuff so it was just the two of you.

"Cheol is been acting weird all week," he shrugged and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening, but you two were alone. "And I'd never seen him this upset."

Well, I have, you wanted to reply but that would be a lot to explain. Not towards you though, he never got irked at you. Arguments with him could get heated, but never in the way that would get anywhere near that intimidating.

"Is it the first time something like this happens?" you asked instead.

"Nothing like this," he shook his head calmly. "We've had a few cases of problematic people but... whatever. Have you decided yet if you want to crash at our place?"

The sudden change in conversation made you snap back to reality. You had almost forgotten that you were sleeping in your car.

"I uh..."

"Newb is staying at ours?" Mingyu came back carrying his backpack on one shoulder.

You both looked at the taller man who was fixedly looking at his phone screen, a small smile appearing on his face.

"No, guys. Thank you but I need to... sort out some things first," you replied hesitantly.

"Oh okay," Wonwoo shrugged. "Are you sure, though? Sleeping in your car doesn't sound pleasant."

"I'm fine," you maintained. "Thank you."

You were barely familiar with Wonwoo and Mingyu, they haven't given you any reason to not trust them but it just didn't feel right to accept their proposal.

Wonwoo nodded. "Let me know if you need anything," was the last thing he said before exiting the bar along with his roommate, essentially leaving you alone with Seungcheol.

He was in the backroom, as you supposed. You glanced first inside the dark room, only to find him sat in the long chair, elbows propped in his desk, his eyes immersed in his phone screen.

You landed a knock on his door, and his eyes snapped to find you by the doorway.

"You don't have to knock," Seungcheol showed you a gummy smile and nodded toward you, the movement making his blond bangs fall on his eyes.

"Sorry, didn't know if you were busy," you explained as you made your way to the desk, using all the strength you had in you to push the memory of him fucking you in this same desk just two nights ago.

His dark eyes were fixed on your face and he stood up so he could level with you.

"Everything okay?" he asked in a low tone, denoting his anxiousness.

"Yeah, just," you swallowed thickly, feeling already very restive. "I wanted to talk about what happened."

An awkward smile rose in his lips. "When?"

You sighed. "Last week," you muttered shyly. "We can't do that again, Cheol."

When you didn't follow up, you could see his features change and break. He nodded in silence and dropped his gaze to the floor.

Then it dawned on you that you weren't being entirely clear. "I mean, I work here now. And the guys are not dumb, they are catching on a few things."

"Why do you say that?" his eyes met your again.

"Wonwoo thinks I have a crush on you," you said while trying not to blush.

"Why?" he frowned. "He told you that?"

"Yeah, he was a little upfront about it. But not only that, I... kind of got emotional when I saw Jeonghan earlier today and Mingyu noticed," you muttered with some embarrassment.

"Oh," he blinked and his eyes appeared to be knowing. "I should've given you the heads up that Jeonghan was stopping by. I'm sorry."

A frustrated sigh fell from your mouth. Suddenly feeling like you could explode from so many emotions under one day. The exasperation in your eyes made Seungcheol frown.

"But that's what I'm supposed to say, Cheol: I am sorry. I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry for how I ended things," you said, your voice thickening with emotion.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered, and it broke you how much it still hurt.

"No—please, Cheol listen to me, I could have done things differently, but I was irrational. Trust me, the minute I boarded that plane, I wanted to go back–,"

"You had no choice," he cut off, his frown deepening. "Baby, don't think for a second that I blamed you for that. You were left with no choice. I understand that now, and I moved on."

Your eyes welled up in tears and rolled down your cheeks as soon as the words sunk in. "But I left anyway," you insisted. "I'm sorry for leaving."

His eyes glistened, a hand reaching out and grabbing yours. "I'm sorry for not trying to stop you."

It was like reopening a wound in your heart. The pain from it shook you so hard that you physically recoiled from it. Many times, you wished he had stopped you from leaving, but you had to live for years with the knowledge that he respected your choice to go.

"Cheol, don't be–,"

"But I am, I'm sorry for letting you go that easily when we could've tried and find a way to solve things together," he explained, his voice dropping to a mere murmur and you could tell that he wanted to have this conversation for the longest time.

Then his hands cupped your face, making your chest tighten under so much resentment and pent up emotions from the past two years.

"Look at me," he whispered and you met his dark eyes. "We both made a mistake. But we can fix it together."

You grabbed his wrists, brushing his skin with your thumbs. "I need more time to think, Cheol," you pleaded. "My life is a bit chaotic right now."

His eyes softened as he felt your touch. "Take all the time you need," he replied in a low murmur. "I'm here whenever you're ready."

"Thank you, Cheol," you whispered, mustering a small smile. "I promise I'll sort things out soon."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'll wait for you. Don't worry," he assured you, squeezing your hand gently.

A deep sigh escaped you, revealing that you had been holding back tears throughout the entire conversation. Your throat tightened, and within moments, tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down as the last image you saw was his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

A second later his arms were wrapped around you again. You instantly hid your face on his shoulder to cry freely, releasing all the guilt you've been bottling up for the past two years.

But hearing him apologize to you too made you discover that you've been wanting this for the same amount of time. You always felt like he let you walk away from his life too easily, even if it took you all the energy you had to do it.

Seungcheol's arms held you close, but you could feel his face snuggling on the crook of your neck, comforting you with his hands rubbing your back.

He let out a shaky sigh. "It's okay, baby. Let it all out. It's okay."

After five minutes of sobbing on his shoulder, you pulled away sniffing and trying to smooth down his ruined t-shirt.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cry that hard. I just had the shittiest day," you muttered, gathering yourself and wiping your tears.

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "I know, baby. I know it was hard. Don't let me rob you of more time you could use to be resting."

He motioned towards the door and got the lights of his office before stepping out into the parking lot behind the bar.

"Is working with me horrible?" he wondered, looking at the night sky. "I guess working with your ex must be stressing."

"Is it stressing for you?" you retorted as you made your way to your car.

"A bit," he admitted, showing you a smile to let you know he was joking. "It's not, really. Just the first day, I was losing my shit."

That made you chuckle. "Me too," you coincided. "But to answer your question, no. Having you as my boss is not as terrible as the boys said it'd be."

His thick brows furrowed. "They say that?" he pouted.

"Oh, you didn't know?" you asked alarmed. "Forget I said that."

His face relaxed and he grinned again. "I'm just playing with you. I'm well aware of what they say."

You shrugged and tried to come up with a response but a long yawn got in the way, making you shudder and almost shed a little tear.

"Wow," he laughed. "You need to get some rest, soon."

"Hm, sorry," you mumbled shyly, feeling a blush creep on your cheeks. "It's just that I haven't been getting much sleep and with the research and apartment hunt... 'm just so stressed about it."

"You didn't tell me you were in the middle of moving," he blinked, looking a bit more serious. "Do you need help with searching?"

You bit your tongue. Was that a Freudian slip?

"I uh... actually need a place to stay as soon as possible," you admitted.

"I'm not following," Seungcheol frowned.

The face he made next made your insides twist. He pursed his lower lip upward, pouting slightly. It was so rewarding to see him lose the initial resentment he had just a few days ago.

But deep down you knew that rebuilding your relationship with him would probably result difficult.

So you decided to start with being honest.

"My ex roommate gave me the late notice that we were evicted," you explained slowly: "I've been sleeping in my car for the last few nights."

"What, seriously?" he leaned toward the windows of your car to take a look inside in.

More than appearing to be worried, he looked kind of disappointed.

"Why didn't you–," he started, but then he seemed to remember: "Oh, wait. You were taking your space."

"Sorry about that," you shrugged. "I've been managing just fine but I do need to find a place soon."

You watched him nod with his head and press his lips together, making the dimples on his cheeks show.

"Seems like you're coming with me," he cooed softly.

You arched an eyebrow. "Don't look so unwilling, Cheol. You're making me feel bad," you quipped.

He just sighed and tutted softly, the way he did when he was putting the show of being disappointed. His hand fished the interior of all his pockets and pulled out his car keys.

"You can leave your car here," the locks of his grey wrangler clicked off. "Now let me move your stuff to the trunk."

You reluctantly unlocked the doors of your car and Seungcheol flung the backseat door open to unload the cardboard boxes and put them in the trunk of his car.

"Thank you," you smiled once Seungcheol loaded the trunk of his jeep with your stuff.

"Don't mention it," he muttered as he opened the door for you.

You climbed in his wrangler and looked around. "You got your dream car," you pointed, sinking in the creamy white leather seats that still smelled brand new.

"You remember," he said with a smile that reached his sleepy eyes before starting the engine.

Of course I do, you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him that there wasn't a single day in your two years without contact with him that you didn't remember him.

Seeing Seungcheol at the wheel, driving in the dead of the night brought a slew of memories. The amount of times he would drive to get you back home before dawn, or the times he'd pick you up to take you to dinner.

He would grab the steering wheel with one hand and with the other he would stroke your thigh with his thumb. Sometimes he would tease you a little, dragging his knuckles down your thigh, then down and so on.

"Your thoughts are loud," he muttered and sent a knowing look at you.

Your ex boyfriend was different now. Not the younger, dark haired version that used his brother's car to get you back home before your parents noticed you were gone.

It wasn't just the hair that had changed, or his body that gained more muscle mass.

"I was just... thinking," you mumbled, looking away from him and into the quiet streets.

"Yeah, I just said that," he laughed goofily.

You felt your heart swell hearing his goofy laugh, it made you choke back a sub. "Stop it," you whined, but couldn't resist to laugh with him. "I'm tired. I can't think straight."

He sighed with a smile on his face. "Do you want to grab something to eat or do you want to go straight to bed?"

"Bed," you muttered, dropping your head to the window beside you and letting yourself rest a little.

The car came to a full stop some five minutes later.

You blinked and stretched your arms, unbuckling your belt as Seungcheol opened your door for you. To get out of the car you practically had to jump and that made him smile fondly.

"Do you have all your stuff there?" he asked nodding to the boxes.

"Yup. I don't own much," you explained, searching for a medium sized box labelled 'pjs and stuff' where you put everything you needed for sleeping such as hygiene stuff, pyjamas and undergarments.

"Let me carry that," Seungcheol hurried, taking the box from your hands. "Do you need anything else for tonight?"

"Mmm dunno," you considered to look for the box that had your jeans and most used tops but you were just too tired to do so.

"Let's go up then," he nodded towards a building and you walked towards the back door, you pushed it open, letting Seungcheol through.

"Can you get my keys, please?" he asked before stopping in front of the elevator doors. "They're in my back pocket."

"Which one?" your arm circled on his right side.

"I don't know," he replied with the ghost of a smile, looking down at your face.

You let out a sigh and dug your hand on the back pocket of his black trousers, practically feeling his firm ass to find the pocket empty.

"I'll try the other pocket," you mumbled shyly, and circled your other arm to dig into the other pocket. "It's empty, too."

Your cheeks were growing hotter by the second, because the enjoyment in Seungcheol's eyes was undeniable. You rolled your eyes and palmed the front pockets of his trousers to find the keyring on his right front pocket.

"What, no groping this time?" he chuckled a little.

"Don't push it, Cheol," you sighed and called the elevator and used the fob key on the sensor.

"We're going to one-eight," he nodded to the buttons of the elevator and you followed, pressing the button to the eighteenth floor.

"That's high," you pointed. "Is that the second to last floor?"

"It is," he nodded and rested the back of his head on the wall.

"When did you move here?" you pried.

Seungcheol was standing across from you, so you could see him clearly under the dim lights on the elevator.

"Five–six months ago," he replied, looking upward while he remembered. "I moved out of the other apartment a month after you left, if that's what you're actually wondering."

It was what you actually wanted to know.

Seungcheol didn't use a condescending tone whatsoever. His tone was quiet and his eyes told not resentment but reassurance: he tried to move on. You couldn't reproach him for moving out of there and leaving everything behind.

You nodded silently, wanting to ignore how much it hurt you to know that you'd be facing all the things that he had to do to forget you.

"I can sleep on the couch. You can have the bed," he offered before the doors opened for you and slipped to the shiny floor of the hallway.

But before you could answer that you were okay with sleeping on the couch, you went after him. You actually already felt that he had done so much for you by letting you sleep at his place, you didn't want to take his bed as well.

"This way," he showed you to the door. "Use the number pad."

"Oh, this is really fancy," you muttered.

"As if you've never seen something like this before," he rolled his eyes, but a smile of pure endearment lifted to his eyes. "You know my passcode."

"I don't?" you blinked from him to the lock.

Is it...?

"Yes you do," he muttered beside you.

You entered the only number combination you knew he used to have on his phone's passcode lock.

"Why is our anniversary date still your passcode lock?" you asked when you opened the door to his apartment.

It was disconcerting to see him detach himself from all memory of you while still keeping something as significant as the day he asked you to be his girlfriend as his passcode lock, something that remained a part of his daily life.

"I use it for everything still," he admitted as he set down the box on a table and turned on the lights of the living room.

Though that was not necessary, since the wide windows of the living room stood tall and wide, from floor to ceiling, welcoming the faint glow of the city lights that filtered into the room, illuminating dimly.

"Why?" you asked again, standing by the doorway still.

"Well I didn't want to change everything, it was way too much work. And honestly, I suck at remembering stuff," he shrugged and used his hand to motion you over to him. "Come on in. I'll show you to my bedroom."

"I can crash on the couch, Cheol," you insisted, walking into the interior of the apartment after kicking your shoes and placing them beside his.

The apartment had a sophisticated feel to it, with faux marble floors complementing the countertops in the kitchen open to the living room. In the centre of the living room was a plush cream-colored rug. A long couch and armchair surrounded the coffee table.

Seungcheol always had a good taste, but the paintings on the walls and accents here and there made you think that maybe he had help with a few things.

"You are sleeping on the bed," he concluded, grabbing the box again and showed you to a door that led to the master bedroom.

The bedroom also had tall windows, partly covered by blackout drapes. Seungcheol put the box with your stuff on top of a dresser and turned on the bedside lamp.

"Make yourself comfortable. If you need anything let me know," he smiled fondly and left the room to give you your privacy.

Even though it was not a week that you and Seungcheol had sex in his office, you welcomed the very needed space and privacy he was giving you.

You took the liberty of using the shower and even using his towels after forgetting to bring in yours.

A while later you came out of Seungcheol's bedroom, dressed fully in your fuzzy pyjamas and found your ex lounging on the long couch, looking at his phone until he spotted you waking towards him.

He sat up when you stopped just before him and sent a confused look at you.

"I used your towel. Hope that's okay," you sat beside him with a tired sigh.

"You're free to use all my stuff," he muttered softly and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.

"Thank you Cheol," you whispered shyly, toying with the casing of your pyjama bottoms.

"Don't worry," he sighed as you placed your head on his shoulder. "I'm happy to help."

That drew a smile on your face. Seungcheol was someone that always made you feel safe, he used to be the person you trusted the most.

You let out a weary sigh through your nose, your eyes going over the nicely decorated apartment. There were no signs that he actually lived there—everything seemed neat, carefully placed, untouched and barely used.

Knowing him, he probably spent more time at his bar than in his home.

"Are you falling asleep?" you heard his low voice ask.

"'m trying to," you turned your head to find his tired eyes.

"You're not sleeping on the couch," he muttered with a pout. "If you fall asleep here I'll just carry you to bed."

The reaction those words caused inside you was of a fiery excitement. You smiled, feeling yourself flush a little.

"Well don't mind me then," you muttered cheekily before pretending to snuggle his shoulder as if it were a pillow and you closed your eyes.

"If that's what you want, just say so," he muttered with a tone of bemusement.

He promptly stood from the couch and snuck his arms underneath your body that was on the couch and carried you bridal style back to his bedroom.

The joy you felt at being treated this way again was not foreign to you. Even when you were his girlfriend, you felt elated at the princess treatment he gave you.

But reliving it also caused you to feel emotional, nostalgic of having him back into your life like this.

"There you go," he muttered as he carefully placed you on the side that you noticed he used on his bed, since the bedside table was the only of the two that was cluttered.

You quickly grabbed his arm as he was standing back from the bed and pulled him in, using the vulnerability of his stance to fully bring him on top of your body.

"What are you—," he chuckled as he stumbled on top, he was stronger than you so his hands stopped him from fully crushing you with his body, placing them strategically on the bed and at your sides.

You sighed in pure adoration at seeing his gummy smile again. Despite the tired look in his eye, he seemed relaxed, almost content as he pressed a knee on the bed to regain balance when he understood what you wanted.

Your hand slid on his nape to drag him into a needy kiss, which Seungcheol responded to in a split second with a groan that was muffled in your mouth, kissing you as fervently.

"I thought you needed time," he groaned, pressing his lips on yours a couple of times before trailing down to the underside of your chin.

"I need you, Cheol," you whimpered as his wet lips reached your throat, placing an open mouthed kiss to make his way to your collarbones.

Seungcheol stopped and turned his head to face you. "What do you need, baby?" he asked with a weary tone.

You knew that it was a tricky situation and that you still needed time to think if you were ready to go back to him fully.

"Can you lie down with me? And hold me?" you asked in a tiny voice.

His smile was warm. "Of course."

Seungcheol cuddled behind you, hugging your body closely to his own.

Moments passed, silence dragged on and you could sense that Seungcheol was wide awake. He snuggled his face on the back of your head, breathing you in.

It almost broke you to think of the times you needed this. When you were alone and far away in a distant country, you ached for his warmth and care. The simple reassurance of his presence was something you longed for so many nights.

You knew he missed you too. Every now and then he would tighten his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body.

"Why are you not sleeping?" he asked after what felt like an eternity, or so you wished for.

"I can't," you admitted with a sigh of defeat.

"You want me to go now?" he started to move his arms from your body.

"No, don't–," you stopped him from breaking his embrace. "Stay."

"You have to get some rest, baby," he urged.

You turned in his arms to face him and curled up against his body, your hands sneaking past his chest and to the sides of his neck, to angle your face to his and kiss him sweetly on his full lips.

He hummed into the kiss, his hands sliding down your back but stopping before your bum. You smiled, not caring that he'd feel that on his lips and decided to press the full front of your body against his.

At that, he broke away from your lips, his eyebrow twitched. "Someone's needy," he muttered before diving into your mouth again, kissing you hungrily.

You chuckled and wrapped a leg over his hips, understanding what you wanted he pushed your back to the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he continued to kiss you.

"Do you want me to help you sleep, baby, is that it?" he asked, darting a curious look to your eyes.

You only nodded eagerly with your head, feeling a blush creeping in your face.

His mouth pressed into a smile. "You haven't changed in that, love."

A fiery rush of emotions invaded you. Maybe you have changed in some aspects, but he always read you so well, better than anyone. In the four years you were lucky enough to be his girlfriend, he made a big commitment to remember every detail about you.

Seungcheol wasted no time and moved his body back and sat on his heels to hook his fingers on your pyjama bottoms and yank them off your legs swiftly.

He sighed in delight, looking down at you.

"What?" you asked, growing timid under his awe-struck gaze.

He shook his head slightly. "I just–," he pushed his blond hair with his hand. "I never even imagined that-"

Seungcheol was practically stuttering and he smiled in defeat when you laughed at his struggle.

"Come here," you extended your arms to him and he leaned his body towards you.

You cupped his face with your hands to kiss his full lips softly, enjoying the fact that he was just as jittery as you were.

His hands slid beneath the fuzzy material of your top, his thumbs rubbing your nipples in small circles as his tongue dragged your lower lip, eliciting a low whimper from you.

"I missed you so much, baby," he whispered as he broke away from you to get rid of your top.

"I missed you too," you replied to him as soon as he returned to press loving kisses on your face.

Your fingers tangled in his long blond hair, and as he pushed away from your face, you saw his glinting eyes, revelling at the sight of you.

The endearment written on his face made your chest hurt. It was clear what he meant to say but wasn't ready to speak the words yet. You tried smiling but resorted to blink slowly at him once as if saying, 'I know, me too.'

Seungcheol flashed you a smile in response, clearly getting the message.

He kissed your lips once before dipping his head to kiss your collarbones, pressing soft kisses over the dark hickeys on your tits as his thumbs played with your nipples for a second time.

You hummed into his mouth, feeling yourself swept away by the tenderness of his kisses. He slid his hands on the sides of your body, caressing your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When his fingers grabbed the band of your panties, he broke away from your lips. His hands slowly slid your panties down your legs, looking at you fondly as you lifted your feet from the bed and his fingers dragged your panties from your ankles and set them aside.

"You're so beautiful, baby," he murmured with a soft, smallest sigh, almost as if it were escaping from his mouth: "You've always been the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

You smiled, your chest swelling with pure bliss. "Thank you, daddy," you replied with a small voice.

Then he left a trail of wet kisses toward your belly button, kissing your tummy lovingly before using his hands to angle your thighs open for him.

He placed more kisses around your core, in the soft and sensitive area of your thighs, making you whimper and grab his soft hair with one hand when he ran his tongue flatly on your skin, and again, leaving a tingling sensation on your pussy lips.

A shaky whimper spilled from your lips as he darted a hungry look at your eyes before pressing his tongue flatly on your core, licking a stripe up your folds, savouring you, drinking you in with a satisfied groan.

"Cheollie," you mewled with a sigh, already weak in your legs as your jaw went slack, and your back arched up.

You heard him hum in response, his hands pressed your body down by your lower belly, his thumbs caressing your skin while his tongue gave broad strokes on your pussy lips, placing kisses in between licks, teasing you softly.

"I missed you so fucking bad, daddy, you have no idea," you whimpered, your hand grabbing at his hair and the other clinging to the bed covers.

Seungcheol's mouth was pressed so close to your core that you felt his lips move into a smile. He didn't stop at your words to give you a reply, he continued to eat you out, the tip of his tongue sinking into your core, slurping your sweet juices delightfully.

Lewd whimpers and cries flooded the room. You knew he loved the sounds he got out of you, just as Seungcheol knew what to do to get you crying out in pleasure.

He stopped licking and kissing your cunt and concentrated on your clit, pressing his full lips on your clit before pushing the tip of his tongue on it to then move it side to side, darting the swollen bud with a swift pace.

You cried out loudly, wanting more and more your fingers twisted around his long hair, following the movements that his head started to make, slightly up and down as he continued to suck on your clit.

"I'm close, daddy," you gasped. "Fuck! I'm so close, please, please, daddy," propping yourself on your elbows as your legs began to shake, making one of his hands slide down from your lower belly and force your thighs open for him.

The last thing you saw before your eyes screwed shut was Seungcheol's head buried deep between your thighs, his hands holding you down firmly to his bed as your legs trembled on his sides.

Your head dropped back, crying out loudly as your orgasm washed over your body, the sounds you made left your voice raw until you started panting.

"Oh god—oh my fucking god," you whimpered lewdly as you came all over his mouth. "I missed you so, so much, daddy. Daddy!"

Seungcheol groaned in your cunt, teasing you with his mouth as you came down from your high. But he wasn't stopping. You noticed he moved his mouth from your clit, but he resumed giving broad strokes across your folds, savouring your arousal again.

"Daddy, what are you—oh," you started, but then his hands blindly found yours, lacing your fingers with his and then pulling so that your elbows no longer supported your body.

The back of your head hit the pillows and you heard him let out a low and raw groan. You understood that he wasn't done. Because of course he wasn't.

Seungcheol worked his mouth on your cunt to hear you moaning and whimpering again until he hummed in satisfaction against your folds.

Then the tip of his tongue swirled around your clit a few times before it darted side to side swiftly and continued to do so, knowing that would draw your orgasm out of you again.

"Mmm, 'm gonna cum again, daddy," you mewled, your chest rising and falling heavily as you felt your limbs growing numb. "Daddy, 'm almost there, I'maah-"

The grip you had on his hands tightened as his mouth forced a second orgasm from you, making you moan loudly repeatedly calling out his name until you were completely breathless.

Your limbs went limp just as his hands broke free easily from yours to smooth your legs soothingly. He placed one final kiss on your mound and lied his head on your thigh.

"Tired yet, love?" he asked, pressing the side of his face against your upper thigh, using it as a pillow.

"Mmyeah," you hummed. "I could die right now," you sighed weakly.

He smiled fondly. "I think you mean sleep?"

You nodded and added: "After I make you feel good too."

He raised a hand to stop you from moving. "Shh, let me enjoy this," he muttered lazily, nuzzling the side of your face against your thigh.

"But, I want you to feel good too," you frowned.

He blinked sleepily and shook his head that was still on your thigh. "I'm good, baby."

"Really?"

"Really," he whispered with a small smile, looking elated. "I missed this. I missed you," he smiled lazily.

Seungcheol moved on top of your body to capture your lips with his, kissing you sweetly before climbing down the bed, where you lied languidly watching him get rid of his shirt in one movement and throw it to the side.

"I'll be back in five, angel," he told you before he walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower a minute later.

When he returned, you weren't aware if five minutes passed precisely. Since you were fast asleep already, only to feel his hands move you beneath the covers, and then his warm body pressed behind yours, his arms wrapped around you.

Seungcheol held you closely throughout the night, until somewhere in the distance you heard an alarm go off. And you were barely aware of the kiss he left on your cheek before pulling away from you and leaving the bed.

Some hours later you woke up in his large bed, naked and alone. You searched for your phone but then you remembered that it was probably back in the living room.

After finding your clothes which were scattered on the floor around the bed you got dressed and went to search for your phone. You wanted to know what the time was, and if you needed to tend to any texts.

But luckily, it was still fairly early in the morning and you didn't have any messages or emails.

So you busied yourself as best as you could. Starting by changing into casual clothes and after perusing what the wifi password was—which Seungcheol had in a note stuck to the fridge with a magnet, you then grabbed your laptop and browsed for a place to move in.

You were sitting on the stool in the kitchen countertop working on finding an affordable place when Seungcheol returned. You being the first thing he laid eyes upon entering his apartment.

"Hi there," you hummed with a smile.

"G'morning. Brought you breakfast," he lifted a bag with his hand and placed it beside your laptop and promptly placed a kiss on your cheek.

You noticed his hair looked messy and sweaty, and you noticed he had gone to the gym, his compression t-shirt hugged the muscles of his chest, and the grey sweatpants that hung on his waist just right.

You gulped.

"Thank you," you smiled at him as you pushed your laptop aside and inspected the box containing the food he grabbed for you.

"Any luck yet?" he nodded to the screen on your laptop, where your search has stopped cold at the sight of food.

He leaned on the countertop beside you to look closer to the screen.

"Nope," you replied shortly, stuffing your mouth with food eagerly.

He shrugged. "You'll find something," he said reassuringly and when he looked at your cheeks full he smiled fondly.

"I'll be out of your hair soon, don't worry," you muttered, trying to cover your mouth as you were still chewing up your food.

"You can stay here as long as you need, you know that," he brushed off with a small frown on his face.

You nodded. "Thank you, Cheol."

His eyes lingered on your for a second before he muttered reluctantly: "And if you don't find anything that suits your needs, you can stay here, indefinitely."

You had to take a second to understand what he was saying. And your heart skipped a beat.

"I appreciate that, Cheol. But I think I need to find a place of my own," you muttered and looked down to your food.

Seungcheol shot a brief glance your way, his expressive eyes had dimmed. Upon realizing that he had touched on a sore subject that had caused arguments between you in the past, he turned away from the counter and walked out of the open kitchen, distancing himself from you.

"I'm taking a shower. And then we leave," he announced awkwardly.

"O-okay," you nodded. "Thank you for bringing me food."

"Don't mention it," he nodded before turning his back to you and walking off to his bedroom.

This shift was not as heavy as you initially had prepared for.

It was thursday, and instead of it being a night in which you had a live band playing, it was ladies night, a new concept that Mingyu proposed when Midnight Haze announced they'd be going on tour opening for another big rock band.

The concept to say the least was... interesting.

"Hey newb, you'll be behind the bar tonight for a bit," Wonwoo instructed and nodded to the guy that was in deep conversation with Seungcheol on one of the booths before opening hours.

"Oh, right, the newer newb is here," Mingyu said. "And who's going to help the new kid?"

"You," Wonwoo stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

Mingyu's jaw almost dislocated. "Me?" he pointed to his chest. "Why me?"

"Because you've been distracted. I want you to change tasks for tonight," he explained briefly and then looked at you. "You can handle the bar, right?"

Mingyu rolled his eyes with a snort and came out from behind the countertop and got to work, although fuming.

"Yeah, I can," you shrugged.

And also, you had a license. You don't know how Wonwoo even remembered that but you were glad he did. Because you also were in need to take a break from managing the tables.

"Right," Wonwoo clasped his hands together. "Let's get to work, Newb."

You nodded and followed Wonwoo behind the countertop.

The actual newbie's name was Chan. Who was a dark haired guy with an easygoing personality, you learned that he was an aspiring singer, within the first 60 seconds of you talking he mentioned his SoundCloud with great enthusiasm.

But the real reason he was here was because Wonwoo sort of convinced him to work here under the promise of juicy tips. Which, worked to the favor of the new concept of ladies night, something that you'd also learn soon.

The bar was nicely packed around 9PM. And Mingyu's idea seemed to stick, since the tables and barstools were occupied and most of the customers were, in fact, women.

"Holy shit," you said under a breath, watching with keen eye the looks being thrown at the boys tending the table.

And also to you and the man beside you tending the bar, and you felt slightly nervous whenever you caught someone on the countertop looking your way.

"Indeed," Wonwoo responded with a breathy laugh. "I mean, we get this crowd whenever the Haze boys come around, but not like this."

"Looks like the boys are having fun," you pointed with your nose to Mingyu and Chan, who kicked right off with the right foot and worked with a nice synergy.

"Finally," Wonwoo said with a sigh. "Need Mingyu to get out of his own head."

"Breakups are hard," you muttered as you turned to get the new orders from the machine.

Something caught your eye, Seungcheol's blond hair as he flipped it back with one hand as he strolled his tall body in front of the row of booths, inevitably turning the looks of people he passed by.

A sigh escaped your lips. Seungcheol has always had this effect on people. He is alluring, by the way he walked and stood. He commanded himself with a confidence that you have not seen in anyone else you have ever met.

You bit back a smile.

"Hello?" Wonwoo snapped. "Newbie, gimme that," he said with urgency and yanked the order from your hand.

"Sorry," you said, feeling a hot wave wash over your face.

"Seriously?" Wonwoo tutted and shook his head.

"What?" you said as he handed you another order and you got to work.

"At least try not to be obvious," he flashed you a grin and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose while the other hand was busy pouring a glass of whiskey and coke.

"God, okay," you widened your eyes in annoyance. "You are snoopy."

"And you are sloppy."

You chuckled. "Maybe. But at least I mind my business."

"Shut up," he hissed with a bright smile.

"Yah! You two," Seungcheol pointed towards you and Wonwoo. "Stop bickering."

Seungcheol had made his way to one side of the countertop, that being the side Wonwoo was mostly in charge of. You nodded with your head and it took you a second to notice that Seungcheol was amused by you.

"Like kids, I swear," he said with a click of his tongue.

"It's all her, boss," Wonwoo pointed teasingly at you. "She has her head over the clouds, god knows why."

"Wonwoo!" you shrieked like a little girl and pushed him by the shoulder.

But he obviously didn't budge. The man towered over you, but he only giggled. "See? She's even blushing, had to clean drool off the counter, you shoulda seen boss."

"Fuckin'stopit, Jeon Wonwoo," you hissed at him.

Seungcheol chuckled goofily, making you stop your feeble pleas to Wonwoo, who also looked somewhat stunned by your boss's reaction.

"Stop it you two, alright," he shook his head once before walking off to the kitchen.

"Huh," Wonwoo huffed. "That went well."

"What?" you gasped. "You just embarrassed me in front of him!"

"And it worked," he shrugged with a sly smile on his face.

"Uh... no it didn't—what worked exactly?" you demanded, your cheeks blazing hot that you had to lower your head a bit so that no one saw your embarrassed expression.

"He got shy."

You stopped and looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure."

It was weird to have the need to conceal both your excitement and nervousness. Sort of working in your favour because Wonwoo was so sure that you were jittery because you were crushing on your boss, according to him.

You didn't want to imagine what expression would take on his features if he ever knew that you weren't crushing on your boss, but your ex.

The shift ended quietly and you silently thanked the gods because you still felt embarrassed by the exchange between you and Wonwoo. And he appeared to be knowing of that, because you were trying to turn a blind eye towards Seungcheol, who for some reason kept strolling around the bar, helping with minor tasks here and there.

Wonwoo sent you some smug looks when Seungcheol went around the countertop and started helping you with the close up.

After everyone had exited the bar, you stood around your car for a bit, pretending to be busy responding to texts as Chan, Wonwoo and Mingyu had left, and the rest of your coworkers did too.

Seungcheol crossed the small parking lot behind the bar as he got his car keys from the pocket of his jacket, unlocking the doors of his jeep.

You hopped in the passenger seat of Seungcheol's jeep, feeling your heart almost thumping out of your throat when your ex sighed a smile.

"So," he threw a hand over the steering wheel. "You were caught drooling over someone."

"Not you too," you scoffed but laughed at his smug expression.

"No wonder Wonwoo is catching onto something, you might be a bit obvious," he smirked and ignited the car, driving away from the parking lot.

"I only looked at you once," you mumbled sheepishly.

"What were you looking at?" he inquired with a soft tone.

"I might have been looking at your butt," you laughed out of embarrassment.

"In front of everyone?" Seungcheol chuckled.

You hid your face behind the palms of your hands with a groan. "I couldn't help it."

A hand slid on your thigh, his fingers softly digging into the fabric of your jeans.

"Baby, you can't do that while working, the boys might actually start questions and what are you going to say?" he teased and you looked at him through your fingers, he was smirking while darting a few looks at you.

"I mean I wasn't the only one looking," you muttered shyly, your voice sounding tiny. "You look really good in those pants."

He laughed in response. "Is that what you told Wonwoo, baby?"

"No," you replied quickly. "I told him to stop snooping."

"I could tell him the truth, if that makes you feel better," he suggested with a small smile as the car came to a red light.

"What?" you squealed, dropping your hands to see his face illuminated by the soft red glow.

He shrugged. "I trust the boys. They would have no issue with you being my ex girlfriend."

Somehow the last word made your chest tighten.

"Bu-but I thought you didn't want them to know," you blurted.

"That would be the sensible thing to do, if I didn't trust them. But they've been here with me since I started this, I really trust they will understand," he muttered while he rubbed two fingertips over his plump lips.

"Um, okay," you mumbled, completely unsure.

"Only if you want to," he quickly put in when he saw your hesitation.

"I don't know," you sighed and bit back a yawn.

Seungcheol continued driving with his large hand firmly parked in your thigh, making your body tingle in anticipation.

"Jeonghan asked me for your number, forgot to tell you," he mentioned in passing, as if wanting to drive the conversation elsewhere.

"Oh? Did you give it to him?"

"Yeah, I did," he nodded with a frown. "Thought you'd want him to have it. Was that okay?"

"Totally!" you smiled, eager to finally reconnect with your former best friend. "Thank you, Cheol."

A smile reached his eyes and he sighed.

"What?" you asked.

Seungcheol parked and turned the engine of his car off. "Nothing," he said, unbuckling the belt. "It's nice to see you happy, that's all."

"It's been so long. I never thought I'd see him again," you said with a sigh. "I honestly thought he'd hate me..."

You dropped your gaze to your hands.

"Hey," he muttered, turning on his seat to face you. "Don't think that, baby. He has no reason to hate you, even if he did, he wouldn't."

You mustered a smile and looked at his big dark eyes, then his lips.

"Let's go," he muttered, noticing your wandering gaze.

"'kay," you sighed and followed him out of the car and onto the building.

In the elevator, Seungcheol had his hands behind his back, leaning back against the wall as he eyed the ceiling.

You watched him carefully, every detail of him. He way he stood, the way his t-shirt clung on his lean pecs and the wide shoulders that stretched the fabric down to his biceps.

One eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

"You're staring again," he muttered without looking at you.

"No, I'm not," you mumbled sheepishly, dropping your gaze.

"Your thoughts are loud, baby," he giggled and you lifted your gaze to find him smirking.

"Tell me what I'm thinking, then," you quipped, returning the smirk.

Your heart fluttered rapidly, sinking with the familiarity of playing around like this with your ex.

Seungcheol pushed himself off the wall with a step forward and stood before you, making your knees wobble.

"I could show you," he said with a confident smirk, the eyebrow twitched slightly again.

The doors of the elevator opened, the small bump when the elevator arrived to the second to last floor left you feeling somewhat dazed. Or perhaps was the man standing in front of you, with a smirk plastered on his face when he knew the effect he had on you.

He walked into the long marbled floor hall and you followed him, noticing a slight urgency on his movements when he opened the door for you.

As soon as he closed the door, his hands slid on your waist from behind, stopping you in your tracks and pulled you closer to his body. You gasped slightly, your hands immediately flying to cover his with a jerk.

"Are you going to tell me what's on your mind, love?" he asked with a low tone, his nose bumping with your ear.

You turned to see him, his eyes had darkened, and was now wearing an expression that you knew too well.

When he saw you falter, he slowly turned you on your feet, his hands firmly parked on your waist. "I know that we still have a pending conversation but," he paused, searching your face. "I really need you right now, baby."

A shiver of pure delight ran throughout your body, earning a soft sigh from you.

"Then take me, Cheollie," you breathed, pressing your body against his.

He drove you against the wall, effectively pinning you with his large frame and not a second later he locked your lips with his own, groaning in your mouth with a sigh.

The hands on your waist slowly slid down your ass, grabbing it momentarily before crouching slightly before you and you understood what he wanted and jumped in his arms.

"Good girl," he muttered gruffly, moving his hands firmly on your ass as he carried you in his capable arms to his bedroom.

Seungcheol threw your body on the large comfy covers of the bed, muffling your fall perfectly. You let out a small blissful squeal and focused your eyes on him, feeling so needy already that you might've combust.

Seungcheol stood before you, his darkened eyes roaming all over your fully clothed body impatiently.

"Do you still like it rough, baby?" he asked as he pressed one knee on the bed and crawled on top of you.

"You know I do, daddy," you replied with a honeyed tone.

Seungcheol lowered his elbows, framing your head and pressed his body on top of yours. "Did the guys you fucked treated you the same way I do?"

Your breath hitched and something clicked in your brain instantly. Your eyes read his face frantically, he seemed calm, controlled, just like he always did when he dommed you.

"O-of course not," you whispered, quivering under his darkened gaze. "No one fucks me like you do."

Did he really want to know? He might have assumed that you had other partners when you went away, right? Did he had other partners? Oh fuck, you did not even want to entertain that thought, your heart sank at the mere prospect.

Seungcheol probably did, though. Assuming that he already thinks the same of you.

He smiled playfully, like a cat toying with his food he dipped his head to graze his lips against yours slowly. "Did you think of us when you fucked other people, baby?"

His lips moved to kiss your cheek and you quivered when his hands slid under your shirt, feeling your waist.

Did he think of you? You thought to ask.

"No," you replied sincerely. "But I would when they'd leave and I had to finish alone."

"Mmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "That bad I ruined you, baby?"

"That bad," you nodded. "I tried to convince myself it was good. But it just wasn't the same."

His lips pressed on the shell of your ear before saying: "Of course it wasn't, angel. No one knows you like I do."

You let out a shaky moan when he nipped your earlobe. "No one," you echoed. "Not even close."

You felt him smile on the spot below your ear. "And no one else will, baby."

You let out a pathetic whimper, not even daring to process what his words really implied. "No one," you parroted entrancedly.

Seungcheol groaned softly in your ear and pressed more kisses down the crook of your neck, earning more sweet sounds from your lips, you squirming under him, one hand had made its way on the hard muscles of his back, while the other cupped the back of his head.

"I need you naked, now," he muttered quietly and pulled his body back, kneeling on the bed before you.

Somehow your body silently started synergizing with his, you sat up in the bed just as his hands took the hem of your t-shirt, pulling it over your head with one move and tossing it to the floor. And then you lied back again when his fingers hooked on your jeans after yanking the button and zipper undone.

Lifting your hips for him to yank your jeans down your legs so hard that you heard some seams rip.

He let out a huff with a smirk. "These fucking jeans," he muttered through his teeth. "Can't fucking get you out of my head on a regular basis and then you wear these jeans... fuck baby, it's like you know."

He climbed back on top of you, placing his forearms on each side of your head to kiss you chastely once.

"It's like you know what you do to me," he muttered gruffly. "But you do, you know me better than anyone too."

Your heart lurched at his words, but couldn't help but show him a small smile. "Yeah, I do," you said confidently.

Seungcheol returned the smile. "Yeah, baby?" he whispered on your lips, trapping your lower lip to pull at it softly. "Can you still take me like before?"

Your whole body burned at his question and you nodded with your head slowly. "Ye-yeah I can," you faltered for a second. "I can take it."

"That's my baby," he whispered and swiped a line on your lower lip with the tip of his tongue. "Arch your back for me. I need to see you," he slid a hand beneath you to unclasp your bra and uncovered your breasts for him.

Seungcheol instantly palmed your breasts teasingly rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, making you squirm when he leaned down to wrap his mouth around one of them, sucking lightly and nipping at it with his teeth.

"Fucking perfect," he grunted. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, I swear."

"Daddy," you mewled and grabbed a handful of his soft hair when he decided to pay attention to your other nipple, sucking at it, playing with it and tugging it with his mouth.

"I'm here, love," he replied, darting a look at you. "Daddy's gonna treat you right. Fuck you like you deserve."

You nodded eagerly. "P-please, I need it."

Seungcheol sighed with a smile at your plea, his fingers hooked on the band of your panties, pulling them off to watch the string of arousal that stretched as the fabric separated from your wet core, broke and fell on the covers.

"So fucking wet already," he clicked his tongue.

"All for you, daddy," you sighed, feeling a blush creeping on your cheeks.

"All for me," he echoed, hovering over your body to press a hungry kiss on your lips.

Your hands slid under the white t-shirt to drag it up his body, feeling his muscles tighten and he sighed shakily under your touch, standing upright for you to continue undressing him.

You marvelled at his half-naked body for a second, your hands caressed his shoulders and slid down his chiselled chest and stopped at the belt of his pants.

"You've gotten bulkier," you whispered, darting a look at his eyes.

"Do you like it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side a little.

"Yeah, I do. A lot," you muttered, mustering a smile.

He pinched your chin gently but said nothing more.

"I need you to get up," you mumbled nervously before undoing the button of his pants.

This felt different than the night he fucked in his office. You felt nervous under the pressure of your decision, that and the fact that Seungcheol wanted to have his way with you like before, but that caused another kind of nervousness.

Seungcheol got up from the bed and you followed him, getting him out of his jeans to then bit back a sigh when you saw the huge bulge he store beneath his briefs. You ran a palm over his clothed cock, noticing a small patch of his briefs wet with precum.

A shudder in excitement invaded you when you pushed his briefs down. His cock sprung free and you let out a strangled sigh in pure bliss.

You pushed him with your hands at his sides, earning a soft chuckle from him when he understood what you intended to do. Sitting him down on the edge of his bed and kneeling on the floor between his splayed thighs.

You caressed his supple thighs with a shudder that shook you to your core, almost whimpering pathetically at the sight of him. Naked, hard, leaking and needy.

Seungcheol cupped the side of your face with one hand and your eyes fluttered shut under his warm touch. "Is this what you had in mind, angel?"

"Yeah," you breathed lewdly with a nod to your head. "Can I suck you off, daddy?"

"Fuck, yes," he sighed, the corner of his mouth stretching in a grin as his hand brushed your hair back gently.

You made sure to look in his eyes right before grabbing his girthy cock with your hand, you wanted to see his features dissolve into pleasure as you took him in your mouth. Starting with a broad stroke with your tongue from the base of his cock to its head, tasting the salty precum in his slit and his mouth parted a little, releasing a low guttural moan.

"You don't know how much I missed your mouth, baby," he mumbled faintly.

You pushed your mouth down his cock and hummed around it, swirling your tongue around his pink tip every time you pulled your mouth back.

Seungcheol hissed and his hands started gathering your hair in one tight fist as your mouth started to feel more comfortable on his cock and felt bold enough to take him further, so that his cockhead pushed up your throat.

Your hand stroked what you could not take in your mouth fully, while the other caressed his thigh, making him shudder and swallow a moan in his throat.

"God, baby that feels so good," you sneaked a look towards the man completely trapped under your spell.

You hummed again, making wet sounds with your mouth on is cock loudly to make him shudder. He had his half-lidded eyes trained on you, one hand gathering your hair and the other gripping the covers tightly.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," he whispered. "You're taking me so well," he kept his praise with a low raspy tone.

At that, you picked up the pace, your drool coated hand moving faster on the base of his throbbing cock while you worked your mouth around its head, earning more sweet praises and moans from him.

The overwhelming need to worship his body invaded you. It made your cunt throb and moan around his cock, making slurping sounds as you sucked his big cock and took him further in your mouth.

You gagged a little bit when you tried to push his cock in your throat, and his hand tightened around your hair. "Stop," he instructed.

You pushed your head back and got him out of your mouth, breathing through your nose deeply.

Seungcheol leaned down to kiss your lips chastely, his hand still on your hair. "I want you on all fours," he mumbled in your mouth, but his command was firm.

You complied almost immediately, crawling on all fours to the middle of the large bed. You propped your elbows on the pillows and looked over your shoulder to see him.

Seungcheol pressed one knee on the edge of the mattress, the soft covers dipping around him as he climbed his wholly naked body on the bed. Then you noticed that the curtains of the large windows were drawn still, creating a backdrop behind his frame of the city lights in the middle of the night.

It was not only the sight of his beautiful body that caught your sight. Nor the way that the lights seemed to shimmer behind him. His eyelids were lowered as he looked at your body, you saw his heavy lashes, his full lips.

He leaned his head to one side as one of his hands caressed your skin from the small of your back, down to one of your glutes.

Your tummy fluttered nervously.

"Do you remember our safeword, love?" he asked, pausing for a second.

How could you not remember? You nodded and told him the safeword you established for each other years ago.

Looking at him over your shoulder still, you saw him take one hand to the space between your bodies. A smile appeared on his face when you arched your back for him in anticipation. Then you felt him run the tip of his cock between your pussy lips once, teasing you briefly before easing himself inside you in one go.

But he wasted no time, starting to push his hips against you, giving you no testing or shallow thrusts. His pace was hard and fast, nearly brutal. It had you mewling against the bedcovers instantly, your fingers curling on the pillows for support.

"That's my girl," he gasped each word between his brutal thrusts. "Stretching so nicely for daddy's cock."

You hummed in affirmation and closed your eyes, savouring every inch of his big cock dragging out of your gummy walls and then sinking back in.

"Daddy," you sighed a moan. "Please."

You were not sure why you were begging, or what for. But when Seungcheol picked up the pace a little, slamming his hips against you so hard that your body started to bounce on his bed, you forgot what you wanted to say.

"Fuck, daddy, just like that please," you gasped lewdly, when his cock reached a glorious spot deep inside you, making your mind go blank.

You heard him groan gutturally and looked at him over your shoulder. Seungcheol had thrown his head back a little, his tongue was trapped between his teeth. The hand parked on the small of your back had travelled far up your back a little, while the other held you in place.

"God," he sighed. "You're taking me so well, baby."

"Mm-mmph," you mewled, closing your eyes to lose yourself in the blissful pleasure you got from him hitting that spot with his cock repeatedly.

Seungcheol was practically growling, his raw moans spilling from his lips in a frantic manner as his hips slammed into your ass, making you gasp and moan with every thrust.

"F-fuck, I'm almost there, daddy," you sighed and gulped hard, tasting your sweet release.

His hands gripped you so hard on your hips as he quite literally pummelled you that you knew you'd have bruises on your hips and ass the following day. But he didn't stop, and you internally thanked him.

"You want to come, baby?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

"Yes please, daddy. I'm so close," you whimpered your eyes brimmed with tears. "Feels so good, so fucking good—"

Hearing you being so needy for your release made him let out a deep groan in pleasure. But he continued with his brutal thrusts on you, his hands firmly grabbing your hips, his fingers digging in your skin so deep you knew you'd have marks in the following morning.

"Come for me baby," he gasped. "Come on daddy's cock," he said in a low guttural tone.

All you could feel was his cock plunging in your clenching walls as your orgasm hit you so hard and good that your ears rung, drowning out your own cries of pleasure.

Then a hand circled your neck, and effortlessly pulled you up so what his hard chest was pressed to your back. Seungcheol's fingers didn't press that hard, but with enough strength to make you gulp abruptly and grab his wrist.

"I love the sounds you make for me," he growled. "You're so fucking good for me."

You whimpered at the sound of his voice so close to your ear, his cock still pumping hard inside you so hard that you could feel your whole body bouncing against his.

"I'm gonna stuff this pretty cunt with my cum. You want that, love?" he asked, gasping softly at your ear.

"Yes, please!" you replied with a whimper, your hand clenching the wrist up your neck. "Fill me up, please. Please, daddy."

A groan left his mouth, sounding so low and guttural that it vibrated on his chest so hard you felt it on your body. His hips slammed against you, his hand tightening in your neck as he came inside you, gasping softly on your shoulder.

Slowly his hand released your neck, his strong muscly arms encircled and pressed your body against him. He held you close to his chest, as he breathed heavily on your neck in a mixture of exhaustion and bliss.

"You're always so good for me," he muttered lazily as he showered you with loving kisses on your neck and shoulder.

You snuggled closer to his warmth, angling your head for more of his kisses and you felt him smile on your cheek.

"Can we cuddle?" you asked when his lips reached your own.

He paused, reading your eyes before nodding with his head. "Whatever you want, baby."

You slowly lied face down on his bed and Seungcheol followed, slumping his naked body beside you.

Then his big arms were wrapped around you, efficiently pulling you on top of his body. You pressed your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the soft hum he released.

Two fingers gingerly took your chin, commanding you to look at him.

"Okay?" he breathed.

You nodded and pressed your lips into a smile. "Okay."

The corner of his mouth stretched slightly in the faintest of smiled. "C'mere," he whispered, reading your eyes before leaning in for a warm, tender kiss.

"Cheol," you breathed in his lips.

"You don't know how much I missed you, baby," he quickly cut in, almost as if he did not want to let the moment be swept away. "So much."

"I missed you too," you echoed with shaky voice. "So, so much."

"Only in my most insane moments I dared to imagine you here with me again," you felt him smile on your lips. "But here you are."

Your heart broke a little, making you close your eyes before you could control yourself. "I'm here, Cheol."

The tip of his nose nudged yours gently before he pressed a soft kiss on your lips. "Don't leave again."

You choked back a sob in his mouth, unable to utter a word.

"Please," he whispered.

"I'm not entirely sure if this is a good idea," you told him sincerely. "I'm a different person now, Cheol. Not the girl you once loved."

It was true. You were far from the girl that Seungcheol loved. Time has a funny way of changing things and it sure as hell did with you.

But he smiled, an endearing glint in his eyes. "I know you've changed, baby," he muttered. "I've changed too. We can get to know each other again."

The idea sounded good. After all Seungcheol was you first love. Your first everything: first (real) kiss, first boyfriend, first sexual partner, first heartbreak. So the prospect of getting to know him all over again after years was exciting.

Something to look forward to.

"I don't think we can go back to what he had," Seungcheol said softly. "And honestly, I don't want to. I want to start over."

"Can we? We can't just turn a blind eye to what we've done for the past few days," you pointed to your naked bodies, alluding to having sex multiple times already.

"Remember when we started dating?" he asked while his fingers brushed your hair from your face. "We moved so fast, we were already having sex within the first month of knowing each other."

You laughed, your cheeks bundled up and forced some tears from your eyes. "I know, I remember. But that's not what I'm saying, Cheol," you playfully pushed his shoulder. "How would this work? You being my boss, and my ex–"

"You're overthinking it," he shook his head once. "We'll take it step by step. I know it's tricky, and it's going to take a lot to figure it out. But I know that I'm ready now."

He was right: you were overthinking everything.

Nothing could ever get you back to what you used to have with Seungcheol. There was no going back to the person you were when you were madly in love with him. Even if you still loved him now, there was a lot you had to rebuild.

His thumb gently brushed away a lonely tear that rolled down your cheek. "What do you say, love?" he whispered so softly that it was barely audible. "Can we start again?"

Seungcheol paused, looking hesitant, but in the brief silence that followed, you understood that no matter what your answer was, one thing was still very evident: you still loved him.

As you nodded with your head, he pulled you into a tender kiss. It was too soft, slow and warm and wet. You melted into the kiss, your whole body shuddered under his touch, making you stifled a sob in his lips.

"Thank you, baby," he whispered in between kisses. "I won't let you down again, I promise—I promise."

✧ a/n: heyyyyoooo (´��`)

if this has mistakes or continuity errors, please forgive me, i only picked up this draft after i abandoned it since october

thank you for waiting for this part! i really appreciate everyone who engaged with part i and waited for this one. it took me really long to post this because i wasn't feeling it, idk 🥺 pls forgive me

i'll try to update soon!!

if you liked reading this, please let me know? i'd appreciate a comment, reblog, like or an ask! my ask box is always open and i love to know your thoughts on anything pls i'm lonely 🥺

so if any of you guys have read my other fics, you may or may not have noticed that all my fics are connected in one single universe hehe. i might make a masterpost soon. so stay tuned for that and,

✧ PART 3 !!✧

anywhoos, i love you all ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

toodles

#seungcheol smut #scoups smut #svt smut #choi seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #choi seungcheol fanfic #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #ff:heartbreaker #hannieween

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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 3 months ago

Text

✧Night Moths

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur has a simple task to do, searching for any lead possible at the Mayor's party. Only problem? You also have a job of your own. Based on “The Gilded Cage” ✦ Warnings/tags: guns, strangers to…sinners?, SMUT 18+, reader is part of a St Denis gang, cover names used at first, smoking, Arthur is extremely horny and a little rough with you (you pushed his limits), cursing, outdoor sex, fingering, tits play, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 9,8k ✦ a/n: YES. I KNOW. This is super long. I have absolutely zero excuse. I feel like this is my best piece yet, but I'm so nervous about posting it! Once again, a big thank you to the incredible @zae-heeyyy, my jedi master, my confidence-booster and patience Queen, who beta-read this big baby and helped me so much with so many things, as always. (Go check her blog I'm begging you)

Glasses are twinkling and clinking all around you. Words are spoken, laughs are let out, champagne drank.

You're leaning against one of the stoned garden walls, fancy decor of the Mayor's house, the perfectly cut bushes looking just as fresh and neat as every guest at this party. You can hear the distinguished music coming from a quartet playing under a gazebo a few meters away from you, and smell the fresh air of the night blending with aromas of flowers, expensive alcohol, hint of vanilla and sweet scents hiding a stronger note of sweat and cologne. Around you, all the richest, wealthiest, and noteworthiest of people in St Denis. You can hear them talk; their conversation as dull and superficial as an empty chrysalid, an abandoned cocoon emptied from all substance, from all interest and life.

You hated those kinds of discussions. Hated those kinds of people, the ones that have the easiest and simplest life one could ever have; being fed, being cared for, even being told what to think and do. You almost envied them in a way, they didn't have to worry about a single thing apart from losing their power. It seemed comfortable somehow, worry-free. The exact opposite of what you had always known.

And yet, you had to bear with them. A very specific task had been assigned to you by your gang. A simple job, one you were often sent off to as you had grown by the years into a great thief and a terribly efficient shapeshifter; blending into any type of party, or gathering, always making a good impression, putting people at ease. You were now an expert at this little game, especially with rich men. They were all the same, always wanting more, demanding the same thing from you. You had learned how to play with their greediness and lust to turn it into your advantage, saloons becoming your jungle as you sneaked easily between your prey to rob them, a deadly and redoubtable leopard in a world of apes.

You needed to steal some important documents from the mayor's office. The main informer of your gang had specified it was a pretty strong lead, and that you could gain a lot from it; something to do with Leviticus Cornwall's dirty deeds with the mayor, a blackmail opportunity.

Your boss had decided to send you, knowing you would easily integrate the party, and even more easily steal the documents. So here you were, feline eyes looking all around you, scanning, observing, evaluating. You couldn't just come, steal the papers, and go; it would have been too suspicious. All the contrary, you needed to be seen and leave a good impression like you always did, maybe stay for a couple of hours, and then smoothly retrieve your goal before disappearing in the secrecy of the dark night. A flamboyant, harmless butterfly… on the surface.

You sighed, trying to pay attention to what was being said to you. Right in front of you, a middle-aged man was talking, explaining something about how he had acquired his incredible wealth. His speech was sadly boring, his eyes glum, his clothes basic, his face awfully bland.

The empty chrysalis in all its gloomy glory.

You forced yourself to nod and give the man a charming smile. This was your job. You had to at least do it properly. Why was tonight a lot harder than the others? Were you frightened to be right under the Mayor's nose, fooling him into his own home? Were you tired, or sick?

In a way, you were. Sick of this life, of this constant pretending, of being here listening to the literal hollow vessel bragging about himself, sick of needing to appear actually interested, charmed even.

Suddenly, the music coming from the quartet is too loud, sharp violin blending with his words, making you even less focused. You were here for too long already, you needed a break and to finish your mission.

You politely interrupted the stranger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture that you had noticed was prompt to soften most men. Along with your most charming smile, you excused yourself from him and quickly walked to a less crowded area, praying that no one would interrupt you.

You made your way up to the exterior stairs of the luxurious mansion just before the patio door and windows, and stopped on top of them, placing your hands on the central low wall, between two Greek columns. Another fancy facade, the house itself was just an imitation from another culture. Did any of these fools have any personal identity at all?

From here, you had a good view of the whole party. Countless fake smiles, masks, a literal scene of a play that could have its place at the Théâtre Râleur. A play of pale phantom shells.

You reached for your purse, taking a cigarette out, mindlessly putting it between your lips. Maybe smoking would help. You searched for a match, silently cursing realizing you hadn't any left.

"Ya need some fire, Ma’am?"

A deep voice said behind you, making you turn, surprised. It was unusual for people to startle you, your ears had been trained to notice the faintest of footsteps in order to survive.

You got even more surprised considering who had talked. A man was standing before you. He was taller, and largely wider than you, his black suit struggling to contain what looked like a well-built body; which made you wonder how could he have been so quiet. His shoulders especially looked way broader than the men you had the habit of running into at those sorts of gatherings. A very classical white bow looked like it was strangling him. His black tailcoat and white jacket looked larger too, making you wonder how much did he had to pay for the tailor to sew them custom-made.

His hair had a soft indescribable color, somewhere between a light brown and a sandy blond. His face, the work of a brutal draftsman, rough edges and strong squared jaw gratified with some scars. One on his chin, another on his nose, nose that seemed broken now that you were thinking about it. It looked like the artist that had drawn this man had sharpened his pencils too much and traced lines in a hurry, piercing through the canvas, his features ending up rugged and scared, some trace of graphite shrapnel that would have damaged the portrait.

What disturbed you the most were his eyes. They looked out of place considering how robust his features were. One could have expected them to be dark, black even. But they were the exact opposite, their bright and soft indigo color leaving you disarmed, two sapphires locked on your own pupils.

He was handing you a match, and you slowly took it, your fingers slightly discovering how his palm felt under them. Firm, calloused. Another stone-like feature of him.

He looked like those Greek statues carved by artists. His beauty so singular and yet enticing. So different.

"Why, thank you, kind sir." You showed your gratitude to him with a grin, lighting the match by simply rubbing it against the cold stone of the fence, a little flame appearing instantly. You brought it to your mouth, the cigarette finally catching fire, and you breathed in.

"Ya don't smoke much?" He questioned, voice deep. You hadn't noticed how deep it was the first time, nor how pronounced his accent was, dragging and drawling every word, a slow melody of his own.

"Not too often, indeed." You informed him. It was the truth, you were basically just smoking during jobs to blend in more easily, most people doing it. It was an easy way to start a conversation with anyone. Just like he had done with you, you noted.

"Needed a break from high society?" He inquired, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"I guess you could say that." You answered, exhaling a long drag of smoke.

You were now completely turned to face him, your cigarette making back and forth from your mouth to the air where you tossed the burned ashes with a little movement from your thumb to the cigarette’s end. Your motions were elegant, distinguished but looked natural. It caught his interest.

"What's your name, sir?" You spoke again, curious about this uncommon newcomer.

"Tacitus Kilgore. What is yours, Ma'am?" He asked you back before placing himself on your left, both of you leaning on the low fence of the patio.

You contained a chuckle. There was no way in the World this man was named like this. You knew something was odd about him. The scars, his knuckles redden and subtly wounded as if had fought recently. His strong stature, miles away from a lazy bourgeois being served, his wild hair longer than the actual trendy haircut, his stubble fitting more a countryman than an actual St Denis gentleman.

Years of playing with people and observing them had made your eyes alert and expert, and you could see when someone was pretending.

When someone was playing a role just like you were, not belonging into this World.

"Rose Schultz." Of course, it wasn't your real name either. You had to be a really poor thief to give him your actual one. He didn't react to it though, his face impassible just like the start of your whole conversation.

Apart from this vague feeling you had about him not being a rich gentleman, you found trouble in reading his emotions. His facial features were closed, impenetrable, mysterious. This also disturbed you as you had the habits of figuring men out right away; he on the other hand was a whole challenge by himself, his intentions hidden behind an emotionless face. This man probably was a champion at poker.

"Nice t' meet ya, Missus Schultz. Are you, erm, hidin' from someone here? Or jus' judgin' everyone from your perch?" He went on with a more amused voice.

"Just know that I'm not the type to hide from someone, Mister." You replied, a little grin curling up your lips.

"Yeah, you sure don't look like it..."

"You wanna know what I think you look like, Mister?"

"Go ahead."

"A wild horse who's trapped, and can't wait to be freed again."

Silence. His eyes stared deeply into yours, stabbing you in sharp blue flashes of Apatite, as keen as the blade of a knife. After just a few seconds, you finally see his mouth moving, his cold expression changing as a slight grin made his way between the stillness of his features.

"You sort of a witch or somethin' ?" He asked you, amused once again. His little smile is even more evident in his eyes, his lower eyelids crinkling slightly in amusement.

"Maybe." You answered cockily, feeling more at ease with him now that he was slightly more open.

Still, there was something that was making you feel weak in the knees; maybe it was his tall stature, his strong build, or the palpable tension you could feel beaming out from him, as if he was ready to jump on someone who would have crossed him at any second.

In a way, you liked it. It was almost exciting.

"I better not mess wi’chu then. Don't wanna end up cursed or somethin'." He joked, features relaxing, body leaning slightly more against the low wall in a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare. You also look like the type of man you don't wanna mess with..."

"I'm surprised how well you already know me, darlin'." He admitted, internally enjoying your conversation more and more.

Your heart swelled at the surname. It felt so good in your ears, it sounded better than from any person who ever said it to you. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him say it just to you.

"I'm kinda talented at figuring people out." You simply replied, before taking another drag at your cigarette.

"I too. And I also think you're not here to jus' play nice with everyone and enjoy yourself." He suddenly confessed to you with a knowing gaze, eyebrows raising as if he was trying to make you understand something.

He knew too. You both knew you weren't from this world, like two predators from the same species, recognizing themselves, circling, judging, from one individual to another. Your breath stopped for a very short time, nobody could have noticed it, but somehow you were sure he did.

"Don't ya worry little "rose", I won't tell no one..."

You didn't miss how he was playing with your false name. On top of being astonishingly handsome, he had some spirit…

He's still looking intensely into your eyes. "In return, I expect you to do the same...", he added in a low voice, his tone firmer and even more resonant than earlier.

A threat. His presence only intimidates you, and it's working so well that you're almost sure he must be an expert in terrorizing too. He must be one hell of a weapon all by himself.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to swallow as naturally as possible to look unphased.

"Guess we have a deal here, "Tacitus"." You emphasized his name, making it clear you're more than doubtful about it being real too.

It made him laugh, and you almost lost it at the sound of it. It was as deep, raw, and genuine as his entire being seemed to be. You loved it. You loved it too much.

Exhaling some smoke, you noticed he had pulled out a cigarette too and had joined your smoking, holding it between his thumb and index finger. You had mixed feelings for this man. He was just as intimidating as he was enticing, and you let your curiosity win the best of you as you carried on your conversation with him.

"I hate it here." You suddenly confessed.

There was no point in playing anymore, and even if you didn’t really know why you had told him that, a part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have understood you.

"Yeah, I get what ya mean. Sometimes I think that those people are jus'… reptiles in fancy clothin'."

You had seen right. Your chest felt light, as if he had lifted a weight in you with just those simple words.

"I just want to be anywhere else but here. Somewhere nicer, more authentic. Like in Big Valley..." You went on with your regrets.

"You too know about this place uh? Yeah, I can picture ya picking flowers in Lil’ Creek..."

This time it was your turn to chuckle, your laugh creating a little puff of smoke in the air. Was he being serious or just teasing you? You didn’t really care. Now, you felt like something special was linking you both as you knew exactly where this spot was, a happy memory brought back in your mind thanks to his words. The wild and fresh river, the meadows covered in thousands of violet flowers, the snowy mountains in the background.

Your cristal-clear laugh made him smile back at you.

"So... What does a woman like you is actually doing here, then?" He asked you, his eyes roaming all along your body while he did.

You were glad you had put on the prettiest dress you had, its dark burgundy color matching perfectly the tone of your skin, and its generous cleavage showing a delicious amount of your chest, underlined by a black translucent shawl covering your shoulders and twirling around your arms. You were offering a tempting sight for every man. You knew he had looked at it, his eyes lingering there had almost burned your skin, sent a warm feeling between your tights, and made your hand hold your cigarette tighter.

"You really thought it would be that easy, Mister?" You answered with another cheeky grin, looking at him with a sensual gaze, your words let out in a languorous whisper, knowing damn well he was trying to gain information, probably to probe if he could get something out of it for himself. "You really thought I would just confess everything to you about myself and what I'm doing here, just because you've got a firm tone and pretty face?"

He let out a dry single chuckle, his cigarette hanging in the air, smirking some more. This damn smirk, it was making you have more and more inappropriate thoughts about this man. The wildness, the dangerousness he was emitting should have made every girl flee, but you, all the contrary, were attracted by it like a moth to a flame.

Or maybe he was the Moth. Maybe he was the beautiful, singular, and ephemeral Moth in the world of chrysalides you were searching for all along.

"Oh trust me, I could make you spit out everythin' I want, Miss." He replied to your taunting words with the serious threatening tone he had used before. "Could make this pretty mouth behave..." He added, looking right into your soul, bending slightly towards you.

You felt like the tension was about to make your whole body burst. There was something between you two, you were sure he could feel it too. A sinuous, dark creature swimming and circling incessantly under the surface of a frozen lake; waiting, craving to be unleashed, to break the thin layer of ice that was keeping it caged.

He was inviting you to measure yourself to him. Bent towards you, wanting you to close the other half of the space between you both. A challenge, or a mark of respect, the case you didn’t want to venture into this territory.

But truth was, you wanted to. You wanted to break the ice yourself, you wanted to just kiss him, right here, right now.

Of course, it was a bad idea. And you were a professional, on a mission.

Instead, you put your hand on his bicep and brought your head inches away from his, not closing the space between your mouths. You’re accepting this silent fight, excited to show him what you’re capable of. You’re enveloped by his strong scent; your lips so close to his. You can see by his widening smirk how delighted he is you didn’t change your mind nor lost your guts. Responding to your bold move, he slowly snaked an arm around your waist. His hand landed on your lower back, just on the verge of being offensive.

Both of you stayed like this for a moment, your breath mixing, merging in a dangerous and exciting cocktail, but neither of you actually crossing the limit.

He could sense just how close he was to though, his muscles were tensed under your fingers, his forehead almost resting on yours with a light frown on it. You could see in his impassive handsome face a whole new emotion.

Pure, raw lust.

"You're such a temptatious, thorny rose..." He mumbled in a hot whisper against your lips, the warmth between your legs now burning like a wildfire. Your pussy was aching for him, and you couldn't hold it anymore.

You felt his body twitching as he was going to finally do it, finally break the ice of the frozen lake, finally let his impulses and needs break free, his unholy, deep, atrociously torturous desires-

"Ah, Arthur !" A relieved voice interrupted both of you and he immediately let go of you, his head snapping to look at the man who had talked, eyes widening.

A tall gentleman with a perfectly cut mustache as black as his long curly hair and hat was looking at your companion with a contained, amused smile.

"Will you excuse us, Miss?" He said unctuously to you, his voice polite and charming.

It was more of a statement than a question. He quickly took one of your hands and put a polite kiss on it before bending slightly towards you, as a gentleman would, and looked at your opponent with an insistent gaze.

Arthur was fulminating. He wasn't actually showing it, his face had come back to its usual cold, emotionless expression. But you could feel from where you were the unbearable tension and frustration that was dripping from his body language, almost as a halo of warmth you could physically touch with your hands. He took a last look at you, eyes expressing a mix of regret and bitterness.

"Goodnight, Miss." He coldly greeted you, walking next to you to follow his friend and go down the stairs, his shoulder brushing against yours while doing it.

"Goodnight, Arthur..." You answered him emphasizing his name once again, making it really clear that you remembered it was not the one he had given you and that you were pretty proud you had seen right. A playful, teasing grin on your face, you look one last time at him before he vanished in the ocean of guests.

Your Butterfly had disappeared just as quickly as he had materialized; leaving you alone with the empty cocoons once more. It was more than time for you to do your job and get out of here. Your cigarette finished, now feeling cold between your fingers, you tossed it away and headed into the mansion, feeling just as frustrated as so-called Arthur.

Arthur was pissed. He had never felt so frustrated in ages, and it was making his thoughts even less easy to discipline. His cigarette was on the verge of being smoked all at once from how intense he was getting and how heavy his breath had turned, the end of it constantly burning in a red shining little point as he was walking.

This whole year he had felt like he didn't have any control over anything anymore and he hated it.

He was already feeling embittered in his everyday life, Dutch listening less and less to his opinion, Micah sneaking around him more and more, Mary coming back to him just to ask him to help her goddamn father who had always treated him like shit.

On top of that, Dutch had made him look like an idiot using his actual name in front of you, making him wonder what was even the whole point of having a cover if he wasn't capable of sticking to it; which he had bitterly pointed out to him, but his superior had shrugged it off, seemingly happy to be here amongst the important people, looking as careless as ever.

Yes, Arthur was feeling frustrated, frustrated and tired of this. Tonight, instead of giving of himself, he wanted to take, for once. He needed to, even. He was about to before being interrupted, and this thought was gnawing at him from the inside.

He was barely paying attention to what Dutch was saying to him and the others once Hosea and Bill had joined them. All he could see was your insanely beautiful face, your inviting lips, the perfect outline of your breasts from your cleavage, like engraved into his pupils.

The way you were talking, charming and teasing, the way you were smoking, all of this dreadfully turning him on during all your conversation. He had made an enormous amount of effort in order not to just kiss you.

He had joked about you being a witch, but it was the only explanation: you had bewitched him, threw your darkest, most sinful curse on him. Never in his life he had felt so attracted to someone after having talked with them for only such a short amount of time. What an insane fool he was.

On top of it, he was raging about the fact he probably wouldn't have the occasion to see you ever again. He had understood you clearly weren't just another rich man's wife, and he was certain you had given him a false name. His cock was throbbing terribly hurtfully in his pants, making his jaw clench, his brows frowning even more than usual. It was begging to be buried in you, between your legs, in your mouth, or your hands, even your breasts or your ass, anything but the cold feeling of nothingness he was feeling right now around it.

The sudden explosive sound and colorful lighting of fireworks had pulled him out of his blasphemous thoughts.

He understood Dutch was ordering him something about following one of the Mayor's domestic, and gladly obliged, relieved to have another thing to focus on. Something about Cornwall sending an important letter to Lemieux, which he had to steal. Nothing difficult, he had done those sorts of things countless times.

Nothing new.

Nothing puzzling, like you had been.

As he followed the man, eyes locked on his white suit from afar, he quickly took a glance at the patio to see if you were still there. You weren't. His dick ached as he let out a deep exhale. Damn it.

Arthur rapidly found himself inside the Mayor's house. His servant had entered what looked like an office. He waited a few seconds after the room had felt silent, behind the corner of the walls, just to be sure, and entered it.

The room was indeed an office, a little desk with an armchair on his left, bookcases covering every wall, simply illuminated by a flickering orange lamp. Everything looked normal, except for the dark figure of a person in the middle of the place.

You.

He recognized your sensual dress immediately and witnessed you shoving some papers in what looked like a leathered little pocket held around your right thigh by leathered straps, just like a holster would be. His mind raced, a million reflections flying under his eyes.

You were some sort of professional thief. And he didn’t have to be a genius to understand you had just taken the precise thing he was there for.

"That's why you were here, lil' rose?!" He asked you almost in disbelief, closing the door behind him.

You looked at him with a bold grin, looking almost amused by the situation. He, on the other hand, felt nothing but amusement. Anger, to have been fooled so easily, and that you had got ahead of him, losing the quiet game that had been played out between you. Envy, as you were now possessing two things he wanted to take away from you. Arousal, as his eyes were glued to the thigh that was now visible to his greedy eyes as you had pulled up your dress to put the sheets in your hidden pocket. Need, as his member felt hard again just by the sight of you doing it.

"Yeah, and you can only dream for me to give them to you if those papers were your target too, Arthur."

Damn, that teasing, cheeky mouth of yours. His fantasies came back in full force, and his gaze darkened. As temptatious as you were, he needed those documents. And he would do anything he had to to have them back.

"Give ‘em to me." He lowly ordered you, voice so severe you could have melted right into the carpeted floor of this damn office. But you didn't.

"Hell no."

"Give ‘em t’me, woman. I won't ask nicely a third time."

"If you want them, you'll have to catch me, pretty boy."

Lord, why was everyone so prompt to call him this way lately? He almost grunted at the way you had said it, and he would have lied if this time he didn't like it when it fell from your lips. He wanted to reply with something witty and even more threatening, but in a flash, you had opened the window, and easily jumped outside.

This Goddamn woman. What was she exactly? Some sort of feline? Yeah, probably a panther, agile, impressive, dangerous like one.

He instantly ran after you, jumping through the window too, landing in a loud thud. He quickly spotted your dress running away, escaping by the entry’s portal, then in the nearest street, disappearing behind St Denis's myriad of flashing lights.

How could he had missed it? His mind was filled with images of it.

He had the common decency of grabbing back his gun from the butler at the party's entry, making him almost fall on the ground as he hadn't slowed but had grabbed them while running, the poor man wondering what the Hell made both of these people in such a hurry.

He was now flying at full speed around the luxurious streets, following the faint glimpse of your dress's color at the corner of every turn. He felt like he could follow your scent like a hunting dog, your sweet and peachy perfume confirming him you had passed there before.

He had enough, feeling his restrain and manners crackling more and more into little pieces. You were making him feel like a damn animal, reducing his whole being to primal needs and functions. He should have been disgusted with himself for that. But all he could do right now was thinking about the damn documents hidden against your damn alluring thigh.

"Stop now, you Goddamn... Evil woman!" He tried to call you out, but you just wouldn't stop. He started firing at you, getting angrier and more fed up by the second, a bullet exploding a piece of the bricked wall right next to your head, some splinters cutting slightly the top of your ear.

You bent over to dodge his bullets one more time and you heard him cursing again loudly behind you. On top of being big, strong and clever, he was fast. In a quick movement of your feet, shaking them, you removed your shoes, unable to run at your fastest speed with heels. You continued your frenzied course, way more at ease.

Arthur rushed in where you were just mere seconds after you, noticing the shoes abandoned on the floor. What the Hell was even this woman, he asked himself for the second time this evening. Some sort of temptatious, dark retelling of Cinderella?

He almost made himself laugh at the thought, understanding your move because his own polished shoes were frankly a pain to run with, making him slip with every shift as if he was walking on soap and regret his good old boots, before acknowledging he had lost your trace.

Shit!

He looked all around him, his eyes scanning every inch, his breath rapid and sharp, his forehead and neck a pool of sweat. No signs of you, unless...

Something fell right on his face, but gently, as a caress from a fresh breeze. Your perfume filled up his nostrils and lungs and it made his heart race. He took it in his hands, the sensations pleasant under his fingerprints.

It was your black shawl.

Tilting his head up, he found you.

You were making your way up to the roof of the town by climbing on a thin ladder.

Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose like a buffalo. He was used to this kind of high-speed chase, but this was a whole new thing, which made him regret his lasso too, his hand searching for it on his belt out of habit but closing on nothing.

Damned party, damned suit, damned you.

He climbed after you, refusing to give up, enraged like a wild beast.

He would catch you, dead or alive.

In a way, this was making him even more aroused than any work-girl show he had ever seen.

"I'm going to kill ya, that's a promise!"

You could hear just how furious his voice was now, and you were starting to pray you would flee successfully from him, cause you knew he would eat you alive if he could get his hands on you.

Arriving on top of the building, you caught your breath for a microsecond, before searching for a way out, gaze frantic, heart beating out of your chest. You were considering climbing to another roof, but the deep, breathless sounds of your pursuer prevented you from doing more thinking.

Arthur had reached the top of the roof too, and was already aiming his gun at you. This time he didn't even bother to say anything, shooting at you again while getting up. He was so seething you wouldn’t have been surprised to see saliva bubbling from his mouth.

By divine intervention, you dodged again, and without any thinking, you ran all the way to the edge of the roof, and jumped.

You stayed in the air for a few seconds.

You felt like time had stopped, the air brushing against your skin, your heart hanging somewhere between the sky and the total void.

You landed on a fancy and illuminated balcony a few meters away. You hurt your feet and legs with the shock, but smiled proudly to yourself. You were out of reach, he was way bigger and way heavier than you, there was no way he coul-

A gigantic mass fell on you, as Arthur had proved you wrong and jumped from the roof you had just left and was crashing directly into you.

Both of you fell on the ground and struggled for a few seconds; you tried to resist him but it was a fight already lost, this literal force of nature easily handling you like he wanted.

You ended up lying on your back, Arthur sitting on you, towering over you with all his might, quickly grabbing your wrists to prevent you from fighting, his legs parted around your hips stopping you from escaping. You were trapped.

"You're a pain in the ass girl, you know that?!" He shouted at you, breathless, raging mad. You were both panting, sweating heavily. His face was entirely red, and your cheeks even more crimson.

You both looked at each other, eyes locked, and you stayed silent. The dark creature prowling under the thin floe had returned and it was getting bigger, stronger, out of control with each passing second. There was something extremely erotic in the way he was almost lying on top of you, both of you out of breath, sweaty, and burning red, both your hearts beating at full speed in the same erratic rhythm.

Just like before at the reception, you knew he could feel it too. You knew it from the dark gaze he was looking at you with, the shady swirls of the murky leviathan reflecting in the depths of his pupils, from the deepest well of his urges, forbidden territory to which no man ever had access.

A simple touch of his hand, that's all it took.

He put both of your hands into a single one of his, using his other one to pull up your dress, fingers roaming on your thigh.

You couldn't hold it anymore, you bent toward him and slammed your lips against his in the most powerful and decadent kiss you had ever shared with someone, almost biting him.

The moment you did, Arthur's mind exploded, and every poor drop of restrain he had evaporated as quickly as if it was on the Sun's surface. The beast had won, finally shattering the weak layer of ice into a million pieces; your two souls blending in what could have felt like a fevered dream.

The grunt he let out onto your kiss was animalistic, and the tension in his body just as powerful as a waterfall with a brutal, unstoppable current. The hand that was holding your wrist let go of it and slipped under your head, fingers in your hair, as his tongue licked against your lips, searching for a way in. You let him in, eagerly, wondering if he would have forced the way if you didn’t.

He tasted strong, as if to match his whole being, a powerful flavor of tobacco, merged with a faint trace of sweetness and bitterness from the champagne he had drank. Like if you were smoking the finest and strongest of cigars. It made you love it even more.

Abandoning all your restraints too, your hands wrapped around his neck and your hips started pushing up against his, even if you couldn't move much, his two muscular thighs keeping you grounded to the balcony's paved floor. It felt so cold against your back, contrasting with the heat Arthur was burning with, consuming, devastating, raging.

He growled again when he felt your movement under him. He needed more of you, right now. This whole seduction game, the adrenaline rose by the chase, your bold charming attitude, your insanely insolent beauty, it was making him insane. He roughly ripped off his bowtie with one hand, needing some air; it felt like you two were under the desert’s scorching sun, stifling, dazing.

The right hand he had on your thigh traveled even higher under your dress, devouring every inch of flesh it could, and his appetite was only getting worse the more he discovered you. He smoothly moved his legs from around yours to put himself between them, and you instantly, almost from instinct, hooked them around his hips.

The sudden contact of your blazing core against his equally hot bulge made you sigh in pleasure, and he loved it. Breaking your kiss for the first time since you had initiated it, he pulled back to look at you, his deep gaze devouring you, undressing you just by its stare.

“What’s your real name?” He asked you, voice hoarser than ever, demanding it from you.

You told him your name, limbs feeling like mush under his intense eyes. He repeated it quietly, like a prayer he would recite on his own. You felt less and less like the panther you thought you were, and more and more like he was the predator alone. In a shaking tone, you questioned back to know his full, real name, needing to know what words you’d have to whisper in gratitude when he would finally take what he wanted from you. To whisper, or shout to the Heavens.

“Arthur Morgan.” He let out, his lips quickly returning to their current addiction, your skin. The way they were attacking your neck didn’t have an ounce of control now, his mouth opening widely to almost take a whole bite of your flesh there, letting kisses everywhere it could.

“Tell me if you don’t want this.” He added against your skin, between two greedy open-mouth kisses.

A way to escape. The predator stilling, letting a way out. But you didn't wanted it. Not at all. Not now that he had surrendered to you, trusting you with the intimacy of his real name, that would be stuck in your mind for God knows how long.

“I want it.” You asserted, voice almost cracking with the weight of your need.

He moaned a relieved sound in answer, his nose exhaling some air that tickled your neck.

You weren’t even sure he could stop himself if you had said no. He was consuming you, and he felt completely drunk, as if you were coated with a powerful whiskey. Strong alcohol that his tongue was now licking all the way from your shoulder, up to your ear.

You moaned, the feeling of his hungriness so good and perfect on you.

"Gonna take care of ya now." He growled in a rumbling whisper, making your legs feel weak. Another one of his promises, but this one was going to give you salvation, and you were thanking him for keeping it.

The bold hand he had under your dress took another step towards insanity by landing on your undergarments, his thick fingers searching for a way in. You were trembling with anticipation. You couldn't even register the fact that you were really doing this, right now, with a complete stranger you had met only a few hours ago, and who wanted to kill you minutes before, on the balcony of what looked like a habited place.

The obscenity, the depravation, the boldness of it was only matched by his relentless thirst for you.

His fingers had finally pulled your underwear to the side, and you sighed seeing him on top of you, eyes drawn to your bare pussy, carnal features empathized by the obscurity of the night. The tip of his fingers traveled amongst your folds, wolves into the forest, a territory they were now claiming as theirs.

You almost begged for him, for the wolves to eat you up all and let nothing behind them, please Arthur, and he offered you this damnation, the desperate call of his name igniting another fire in his already infernal mind. A single, calloused finger pushed into your folds, making you spread your legs even more to grant it better access. It was stretching you pleasantly, his skin rough and firm inside. You started letting out sweet, quiet moans, showing him just how much you were enjoying this.

Your two hands now gripping his back, holding on for something, anything, his dark jacket suddenly feeling way too smooth to grab onto; you were wondering how touching his naked back could feel.

Arthur was doing everything in his power not to burst once more, grunting in response to your loving sound. Slowly, he pushed another one, thriving in how wet and hot your cunt felt around his fingers, craving for the moment he would finally be able to feel this downright perfection around his cock. He felt like he was ruining you, throwing you to these wolves, and you were thanking him for it.

For now, he focused on you, blue eyes glued on your face when he started curling his digits inside of you, searching for this so special, so delightful spot within your walls. He was observant, noticing every sound you were making, every muscle tensing, to know if it was the place you liked that he was brushing right now. Wanting it to be the place you liked most.

By adding his thumb on your clit and pushing a little deeper his index and middle finger in your desperate pussy, he realized he finally had found the Graill as your back arched against the ground, your own hands gripping harder on him, eyes shutting in pure pleasure.

"Oh, God! Yes, right there..." You rewarded him, voice high-pitched and filled with delight, a tingling sensation spreading on your legs and shoulders.

He exhaled deeply, your words making his own member gorging, pressing against the fabric of his suit that felt too small to contain him. He started pushing in and out, pulling a whine out of your throat with every movement, as the thick tip of his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot every time, wolves once again in a world of sweetness and honey, lapping your delight, feasting on your pleasure.

“Told ya I would make this pretty mouth behave…” He said cockily after one of your moans. He was enjoying this all too much, finally feeling in control again, being the one and only responsible for your ecstasy.

The distance between his mouth and you seemed to be unacceptable for him as he had succumbed once more to his needs, his lips finding your skin again, tongue tasting, teasing your chest this time, everywhere he could on the cleavage he had desired since the first time he had laid eyes on you tonight. Bent over to you, looking like a curved beast feasting on its prey.

You were feeling your pleasure building, Arthur’s face hungrily searching for one of your nipples under the neckline of your dress, and sucking it once he had finally found it. His teeth and nose had pulled your dress, freeing your entire left breast, bare, defenseless in front of him.

Maybe he was the wolf himself. He sure looked like it, his face a maw fed by your soft flesh.

Every nerve of your pussy screamed for deliverance, this familiar sensation taking form in your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming even more high-pitched, breathless, almost obscene, much to the outlaw's delight.

You had thought of him before being a terribly efficient and multi-functional weapon. You couldn’t have known just how right you had been, your hardening nipple still chewed by his mouth while his right hand was sending you to your edge, thumb skillfully circling on your clit faster and faster, the two other fingers tearing apart your sweet spot, in and out, in and out, again and again, until…

“A-Arthur, don’t stop, please!” Your voice slit the night open, tone pleading as if you were begging for your life.

“I won’t girl, it’s all okay… Give it t’me…” He encouraged you, even his breath feeling rough against the skin of your chest before he sucked hard on the skin of one of your breasts, accompanying you to your salvation.

It was enough to send you over your limit, your pussy clenching, throbbing, entirely consumed. You moaned so loudly it could have turned into a scream, hips jerking against his palm, his other hand quickly grabbing your hip to steady you and carry you through it as his fingers were dragging every last drop of your pleasure out of you.

“Yeahhh, that’s it gorgeous, just like that…”

He was frowning, the sinful sensations of your wet cunt coating his fingers in a warm slick and tensing around them making his eyebrow and jaw just as tensed, his face just a hint of how fucking riled up he was because of it.

Your head was still spinning and your breath uneven when he finally pulled his digits out of your walls, the fresh air replacing them. Lost in your haze, you weren't capable of doing anything else but looking at him through lidded, heavy eyes.

He was absolutely beautiful, even more than at the start of the night. His true nature out at last, his white fancy shirt disheveled now that he had removed his bowtie and soaked from efforts. Cheeks and throat as red as a sanguine sunset. Pearls of sweat sparkling on his burning skin with the Ocean of street lights of St Denis, reminding you of a night sky, making his sandy hair stick to his forehead in the hottest way possible.

You didn't knew how could all this had escalated so quickly, but at that moment, you felt like this man before you was your whole universe, his deep ultramarine eyes completing the stellar work of art he was, shining, shimmering, more than any star in the sky, as if the Gods had capture the entire Milky Way and imprisoned it in his being.

Arthur had ultimately pulled his cock out of his black suit pants, only piece of flesh out of his clothes, and your thoughts were immediately contradicted; there was no way any virtuous God could have made a man so depraved. He was the work of the Other Side, Lust and Temptation personified. King of the wolves, he could have had all the Hounds of Hell kneeling before him.

He pumped himself a few times, unable to resist the call his member had been screaming for hours, reinforced by the way his fingers had tasted your wet cavern. Some precum had already leaked from his big pinkish head when he was fingering you and was now glistening in the night, making you think about the stars again. Your breath got caught at this sight and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a praise.

"Perfect..." You simply stated in a whisper, eyes glued to his throbbing, veiny member, relieved he had already pulled an orgasm out of you because there was no way he could have fit in you otherwise. Your eyes followed the dark path of his hair, from the glimpse you had on his chest between the open collar of his shirt, all the way down to his pelvis and at the base of his shaft.

You could only imagine what it looked like without any clothes on, and you were dying to know.

"Trust me, you're the perfect one, darlin'." He asserted, firm tone leaving little to contradiction.

He positioned himself in front of your entrance.

You weren't even completely back from the world your first relief had brought you to, and he was already at your door again. But this time, Arthur couldn’t stop himself.

He had given once again, just like always. Now he wanted to take. He needed to take. The starving, depraved wolf. Slowly pushing, teasing himself, making his cock’s head sink into your dripping territory, creating wet and soggy sounds, a hardened spear into honey.

He couldn't hold back a baritone moan, the feeling was even better than what he remembered. He hadn't taken the time or allowed himself to lay with a woman in ages, and God, what a return to this primal bliss.

He slowly moved some more, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider from around his waist to allow him to penetrate you more easily. Once you had entirely enveloped him, his tip deep inside, he let out another deep throaty grunt, the feeling making it hard for him to keep his thoughts clear.

"Ahh... Shit, darlin’... So tight…"

Considering how his length was stretching you, you bet he felt your pussy tight. The first word that came into your mind was “complete”. So complete with his huge cock inside of you; you felt like you could have died happily like this. One of your hands slipped from the top of his back to the lower part of it, just above his ass, pressing there, showing him just how much you wanted him to move, to let go.

Arthur didn't need much more as he pulled back slowly only to snap his hips back against yours, his cock pushing again all the way through your cunt in one hard single time, giving you another wave of pleasure as you both moaned together, unable to resist the intense sensation he was creating for both of you.

Hearing you whine, finally feeling your perfectly tight and warm pussy around him, it was making him lose all sense of restraint, and as your other hand ran through his hair, your angelic voice whispering his name as if he was your Lord and savior, he lost it.

He started to pull in and out of you faster, harder, your bodies colliding in a delicious way, obscene noises echoing through the silence of the darkness. His increase in pace made your body scream in pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck under the collar of his shirt, biting his skin there.

It made him grunt loudly, and one of his hands roamed from your hips to your rear, grabbing a fistful of your ass in an instinctive response. His other hand was on the ground next to you, keeping him from crushing you against it. It made your head blank with pleasure.

"Shit, Arthur! M-more!" You begged, feeling like you could die if he stopped, your voice turning into high squeals.

"Anhh- God... More? Don’t worry girl, I'll g-give you more...-Mmh!"

His voice was heavy with pleasure, words cut off by moans and grunts you were delighted to hear, the most unholy and arousing music you had ever had the honor to listen to.

True to his words, he obliged, hips thrusting endlessly, member empaling you with each move. You could feel the flesh of his pelvis against yours with how deep he dived into you, and around it the stiffness of his suit, rubbing again the breast he had pulled out of your dress before, nipple sensitive after his previous treatment.

If what was between you was once a frozen lake, it had now turned into an Ocean of lava, magma exploding, engulfing both of you in the most burning and devastating passion you'd ever experienced, a volcanic explosion of desires.

The hand he had on your asscheek reluctantly let go of it, but you ended up thanking him for it, cause he was now using it to put your left leg above his shoulder, grabbing under your knee, allowing him to fuck you in an even better angle than before. He was ruining you once again, but this time felt like the pack of starving enraged wolves had taken him with you to consume him entirely.

You leaned against the floor, back of your head feeling the paved coldness, only hint that everything was actually real. Arthur's eyes locked with yours as he kept on fucking you hard and fast, this intimate contact making his member twitch.

You felt so goddamn good around him, and looked so goddamn gorgeous like this, your cheeky grin long gone, replaced by a delightful frown of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet scream. Arthur felt his peak coming dangerously close, but his pace hadn't slowed, his fat cock thrusting in and out of you. In and out, like a furious, sacred metronome. In an out, like a blessed psalm you'd both be reciting together.

“Come on girl, I know you have another, -Damn it!-, another one in ya. Give it to me, come on, jus’ for me…”

Words and voice drowned in a flood of pleasure and curses, of deep grunts and growls, his possessiveness sending you over the edge once again, your inside closing its trap around him, squeezing just how he needed to.

His eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing in utter pleasure as he sank so hard and deeply you could have felt him splitting your guts in half, his dick throbbing and harder than ever. It reached a spot so deep and good inside of you, burning it, your pleasure bursting as you felt your orgasm coming for the second time.

"A-Arthur!" You cried out as you came around him, creaming him, walls clenching in a delicious sensation that made him reach the stars.

"God, damn it!" He shouted, voice deeper and rougher on the curse word before quickly removing himself from you in a flash of lucidity, finishing messily, cum spilling from his red sensitive member in white spurts that ended up right on your belly as a feral, powerful growl escaped his chest and his head tilted backward, letting you see his throat covered in sweat and veins.

For a moment, both of you had turned into beasts, shattered all the limits, broke all the shackles, diminishing you into your more primitive instincts. The Wolves of Lust had devoured your being into the very last delicious bone.

And that’s how you felt. Boneless.

Now, stillness. A cold breeze enveloped the pair of you, the only sounds now being the distant agitation of the city and your pantless breaths. He slowly brought his chin back down and opened his eyes, mesmerized by the sight of you returning from the realm of pure pleasure he had provided for you for the second time.

He felt powerful. He felt good. Better than he had for months, finally satisfied. Like a God, a King. King of all the Wolves, Cerberus, the only guardian of your unholy realm.

He wanted to do this again with you, as soon as possible.

He carefully put his softening dick back in its clothed cage, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants as he felt completely spent, his hands shaking slightly. He wanted to help you get cleaned up, but you had already brushed what you could of his release off your dress.

It would probably leave stains on your clothing nevertheless.

A twisted, dark part of him, the part that came from the same pit as the dark creature and the Wolves, felt almost aroused and proud at the thought you would keep an imprint of him on it. This part was relishing noticing the big ruby mark it had left on your breast as you were putting it back under your neckline; he grinned to himself knowing it would make your memories of him more difficult to forget.

He didn't want you to forget.

He slowly got up, offering you his hand to help you stand. You quickly put back your dress in its usual state, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. A silence settled between you two, thousands of questions floating in the air, but none of you ready to ask them out loud yet.

Finally, as you started shivering, only realizing now how cold this night was without Arthur's burning hot body on top of you, he spoke, voice even hoarser from having pushed on it too much, accent making every world sound heavy when they fell from his mouth.

"When can I see you again?" More than a demand, a promise. An order even. Cerberus needs his territory.

You already knew he kept them; his promises. Except for the one he had made to kill you. But in a way, he did, because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to ever feel so alive again without him.

Like a condemnation.

"You won't."

Certainty in your voice. But he didn't mind it. He had already broken you before.

"Oh, but I think I will, darlin'." Was all he said before stepping over the fence of the balcony, ready to jump off it. Before doing it, he pulled something out of his jacket and waved it at you.

The fucking papers.

A lightning of understanding and panic struck you; what you had thought was a lustful touch on your thigh, the one that had set everything on fire between the both of you, that had unleashed the Wolves, was in reality his sneaky hand retrieving the document from your hidden pocket.

Shit!

He gave you his cocky grin, blue gaze sparkling with mischief, greeting you with a two finger’s salute then jumped, disappearing in the night, away from you once again. You could have gone after him, as much as your weak and spent body would have allowed you to, but somehow, after all that he had done to you tonight, you felt like he had well deserved those damned letters.

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries credits: Arthur's pic is not mine, belongs to fv8tt on Pinterest. Dividers and little moths doodle by me.

I reall hope you liked this one! I'm thinking about writing another part where the reader could confront Arthur again... Tell me if you'd like that! -Pine 🌱

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #pinefic #arthur morgan fanfic

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bogleech · 8 months ago

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Also going to finally make a pinned post for all my stuff:

BOGLEECH - my tumblr blog is named after this website I created around 2002 and still update. Thousands of pages worth of content focusing on creature design as well as real biology. My review of the original Legend of Zelda monsters might be the most straightforward example of my articles. Links to some of the most popular content:

POKEMON REVIEW ARCHIVE: - I rate and review each and every single Pokemon, in Pokedex order, on its merits as a creature design. I also do so as someone whose favorite animals are all parasites.

DIGIMON REVIEW ARCHIVE - same, but more chaotic.

CREEPYPASTA COOKOFF ARCHIVE - for several years I hosted a yearly writing contest before it grew too big for me to keep up with. There are over a thousand user submitted horror, fantasy, sci fi and surrealist stories here emphasizing unconventional, original ideas you seldom see from the "creepypasta" community!

The original "MORTASHEEN" Monster Archive - since the early 2000's I've created and illustrated more than 800 creatures and counting for my own monster-catching world, now set for release as a tabletop RPG setting.

AWFUL HOSPITAL: SERIOUSLY THE WORST EVER (page one): an interactive comedy-horror-sci-fi webcomic I started in 2014 about a medical facility that could maybe be better.

Some of my other internet stuff:

PATREON - constant work makes my patreon updates inconsistent, but the content backlog goes back years with a huge amount of exclusive art and writing. I try to put up new exclusive stuff whenever I can.

ETSY - I design all sorts of original enamel pins like these, plus I sell zero-maintenance terrarium plants (just leave them in a jar!), original books and other things!

COLOR THE ABYSS (available on the above etsy!) - a 30 page educational deep sea coloring book! Includes a few famous favorites like giant isopods and hagfish, but mostly focuses on less popular, often much weirder animals.

UNBELIEVABLE BUGS - also regularly restocked in the etsy store, 30 of the strangest and most surprising arthropods most people have likely never heard of, illustrated by myself and @revretch, written for even the youngest kids to understand (but will likely teach you something new at any age)

My Itch.io and Ko-fi - both sell digital versions of my books, including some creepypasta collections and my first novel, "Return of the Living," about a world of entirely ghosts suddenly dealing with the appearance of ghost-hunting monsters.

TWITCH CHANNEL - I now try to stream something at least monthly, sometimes weekly when possible, from horror games to books and art.

YOUTUBE CHANNEL - archives my twitch streams and other little things.

INSTAGRAM - look at pictures of my huge weird collection of toys and Halloween collectibles

BLUESKY - I'm going to put mainly just updates to my stuff on here. SEE ALSO:

HUMANS-B-GONE - a science fiction animated series by my partner @revretch, about a world of kaiju-size, technologically advanced insects and arachnids to whom vertebrates like us are just pesky little "gubs." Also has a tumblr account @humansbgone FINALLY, HERE'S MY GUIDE AND RESOURCE TO MAKING YOUR OWN INTERNET WEBSITE IN A FEW MINUTES WITH NO KNOWLEDGE OF CODING

#art #pokemon #digimon #biology #animals #halloween #monsters #creature design #creepypasta #horror

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nerdallwritey · 2 months ago

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Awfully Fond of You

Request: i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a little something for act 1, during the tiefling party for an autistic tav who has a crush on astarion but also has body insecurities + SA trauma, maybe instead of the usual scene that goes down they request to bathe with astarion instead? a tav with poor interoception (sense of awareness with one’s body) who loves to help and touch others but doesn’t quite register others touching them or how they feel about it but still craving intimacy with astarion is something i’m obsessed with (*^^*)*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* i love your writing style and NEVER request so im super nervous!! - 🪴 (Link to original request here).

Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Rating: 18+ - no smut, but mature themes Word Count: 7.7k CW: Very vague alludes to SA trauma, reader is a sweetie pie, Astarion is an idiot as always - No explicit smut this time; this one's mostly fluff! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3

a/n: Hello folks! I come bearing my very first request fulfillment! As you can tell from the ask, 🪴 anon wanted something very personal and sweet, and I'm incredibly honored that they chose me to see their vision come to life. I did my best to hit every beat they requested, while also staying true to my writing style, which, of course, means there's plenty of banter to be had. Yes, it is a bit similar to An Evening To Ourselves and Perfect Every Time (I swear I was in the middle of writing that one when I received this request), but I'm pleased with how this new remix of Astarion's Act 1 romance scene turned out! And yes, the title IS based on a lyric from everyone's favorite Sesame Street bath time song, "Rubber Duckie." HIT IT, BOYS! (Thank you, as always, to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) NOTE: This Tav is completely separate from bard!Tav and does not take place in the same universe as Beauty and the Bard. Part 5 of that coming soon! And my request box is open!

Without further ado, 🪴 anon, I hope you like it!

The air in camp was abuzz with laughter and cheer. Booze flowed into goblets and down throats, and smiles graced the faces of nearly every guest currently in attendance of the last minute celebration thrown together by you and your companions.

With the goblins and their leaders defeated in what turned out to be a rather difficult encounter, Halsin and Zevlor had insisted on celebrating with you and your party at your campsite before the tieflings made their way to Baldur’s Gate within the next few days.

Alfira supplied the evening with a somewhat constant stream of joyful songs, only stopping every so often to enjoy a drink with Lakrissa, while other tieflings danced and mingled with each other, relief and excitement making their shoulders relax as they reached for more goblets of wine.

You were in the process of making your rounds through the party; you’d shared a drink with Shadowheart, some jokes with Gale and Karlach, a quiet moment with Wyll, and a confusing conversation with Lae’zel about limbs being torn from a neogi? You weren’t entirely sure what those even were, but you had to assume they were a fearsome creature if Lae’zel was bringing it up.

That only left Astarion.

To be honest, you’d been avoiding him all night. Try as he might to catch your eye whenever you passed by, whether it be with a pointed clearing of his throat or a blatant call of your name, you would zero in on something else, and focus all your attention on that. Even if it meant sitting through an extended conversation with Volo.

But now, there was nowhere left to go. Unless you opted to avoid him completely. And that would only lead to questions from your companions that you wouldn’t know how to answer.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him. No. In fact, it was the exact opposite. You liked him a lot. And you weren’t sure what to do about it.

Astarion was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and you were… you. You’d been you, your whole life, and knew for a fact that the pair of you were an odd couple. Where he was crass, you were kind. Where he was violent, you opted to talk things through.

And yet, you couldn’t help but enjoy spending time with him. His bloodlust was fascinating to watch, and you loved sparring both physically and verbally with him. More than once, you’d both saved the other’s ass in a sticky situation during battle. More than once, you’d allowed him to drink from you to ease his sanguine hunger.

You were pretty sure that at the very least, he considered you a friend, though you weren’t sure he’d ever directly admit that to you. Unlike Gale and Wyll, who often reminded you how much they appreciated your friendship, Astarion was much tougher to read. Yet despite his somewhat malicious name calling and disapproval towards your actions, you couldn’t help but feel that he had a soft spot for you. Even when you were telling him he couldn’t kill a man in cold blood, it seemed like he legitimately enjoyed your company. The thought made you smile softly.

Taking in a deep breath and straightening your posture, you finally willed yourself to approach the vampire.

His eyes lit up in that way they often did when he was preparing to tease you.

“There you are, darling,” he said, dramatically. “I was worried I’d never see you again.”

“Worried I’d leave you, huh?” you teased with a smirk.

Astarion tsked. “Perish the thought. But I recognize someone avoiding me when I see it.”

“Ah,” you clasped your hands in front of yourself, looking down at the ground, “you noticed that.”

“When I usually have to pry you away from me, yes, I noticed.” He took a swig of the wine he was holding.

You nodded and bobbed back and forth on your toes. “Best for last, I guess?” you shrugged your shoulders and smiled at him, hoping he’d drop the subject.

He hummed lamely.

“So,” you perked up, “are you enjoying the party? I see you’ve been indulging in the spirits.”

“Watching me, were you?” Astarion smirked and you held up your hands, caught.

“Guilty.”

“You know,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You reached out to squeeze his arm. “Don’t say that.”

His eyes met yours, and he gently pulled his arm out of your grasp. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” He closed his eyes and took another swig of his wine. When he brought the bottle away and opened his eyes, he met you with a scowl. “I hate it. This is awful.”

You laughed. “Really? Saving lives is awful?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “We killed some goblins to save some tieflings. The tally of lives didn’t change much.”

“You’re awful,” you shook your head affectionately.

He looked smug before puffing his chest. “And what do I get for all my hard work?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“Nothing but a pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.”

You pursed your lips and reached for the bottle, brushing your fingers against his own.

“Let me try,” you said, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a sip. Your tongue was flooded with the bitter taste of fermented grapes and something else you couldn’t place. Your face scrunched at the flavor and Astarion snorted.

“See what I mean? Awful.”

You handed the bottle back to him, smacking your tongue to get rid of the aftertaste. He took the opportunity to continue speaking.

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You let out an amused scoff. “Knowing you, it probably is.”

Astarion lifted a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Oh, don’t be so sour. I like a good time as much as anyone.”

“‘Sour,’” you repeated, pointing at his wine bottle. “Good one.”

He smirked. “You know, we could always make our own entertainment, darling.”

“Oh, really?” You lifted an eyebrow. “And what does that entail?”

“We could get a little closer, so to speak.”

You were suddenly very aware of how close you were standing to Astarion. You took a considerable step backwards and crossed your arms.

“Sorry, I was really close to you just now, wasn’t I?” You rubbed up and down your bicep awkwardly.

Astarion blinked before his face settled into a seductive smirk. He reached his free hand out to rest on your hip. “On the contrary, my dear. I rather like it when you’re close.”

“Oh, good,” you sighed in relief. You brought your hand down to where Astarion’s rested on your hip. “Sometimes I can’t tell.”

He chuckled, squeezing your hip slightly. “So what do you say?”

“To us getting closer? I don’t mind!” To emphasize your point, you took a step forward and rested your other hand on his shoulder.

Astarion furrowed his brow. Then he chuckled again, gently removing both of your hands from his body. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.”

“Okay, now I’m really interested in what kind of entertainment you have planned.” You smirked at him, sensing a shift in his tone, but unsure of what it meant. “Don’t tell me you’re a master of shadow puppets or something.”

He smiled skeptically. “Very funny,” he said slowly. “But I trust you’ll meet me?”

You giggled. “Yes, I’ll see you later, Astarion.”

“Indeed you will, my love. Indeed you will.” Rather than bid you a proper goodbye, Astarion brought the wine bottle to his lips once more and turned away from you.

You spun on your heel and made your way back to the party.

This was fine. Good, even! Spending time one-on-one with Astarion was probably exactly what you needed if you wanted to navigate this silly crush you’d developed. Sure, he’d just called you “my love,” and that was a new one, but it wasn’t that much different from the other pet names he threw at you and your companions. You didn’t need this foolish infatuation distracting you on your journey or, gods forbid, diverting your attention during battle. No, this would be the perfect time to remind yourself and your fluttering heart that Astarion was, first and foremost, your friend, and a person. It didn’t need to be anything more than that.

Your feet carried you not too far from Astarion’s tent and landed you at Karlach’s tent, the tiefling in question currently lying on her back, looking up at the stars.

“Hey, Hot Stuff,” you said, standing over her.

“Soldier!” she grinned, her eyes a bit fuzzy from the wine.

“This seat taken?” You kicked your foot over some dirt to her left.

“All yours,” she said, sitting up to join you.

You settled down next to her and watched the party still taking place at the center of camp. It sounded like Gale and Lae’zel were having some sort of heated argument over which main courses were best to prepare for battle, while Halsin awkwardly weaved between them to gather a plate of food for himself.

“Saw you chatting up Fangs just now,” Karlach playfully air-elbowed you, careful not to accidentally touch and scorch you. “Did he have anything good to say?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” you shrugged. “He was an ass to me, I was an ass to him, the usual.”

Karlach nodded. “Sounds about right.”

You both sat in pleasant silence for a moment before you laughed a little. “It’s funny, he actually asked me to spend time with him tonight, after the party.”

Karlach furrowed her brow. “After the party? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head, “he said we could ‘make our own entertainment.’” You made air quotes when you repeated his words. “I figure he wants to read together or something. It was just weird how he phrased it.”

She sat up a little straighter, her expression growing more serious. “Hang on, what were his words, exactly?”

You leaned back a little, confused by her sudden interest in your mundane conversation with the vampire. “Um… I don’t know. He said he didn’t like being a hero, I told him not to say that, he said he wanted more than a pat on the head and bad wine, I tried the wine and it was bad, he said he wanted a little fun, ‘is that so much to ask?’ and I said ‘knowing you, it probably is,’ and then he said we could make our own entertainment. Or something like that.”

“Huh.” Karlach thought for a moment. “I think he means to bone you, Soldier.”

You sputtered out a laugh. “What?! No he doesn’t!”

“He sooooo does!” Karlach barked out a laugh. “And good for you! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“He does not,” you said again, trying to convince yourself as much as you were trying to convince Karlach.

But you faltered.

“Does he?”

“Soldier,” Karlach lowered her head at you, giving you an incredulous look, “he was absolutely asking you to get nasty with him.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!” she threw her hands up in the air. “We all see the way you look at each other! You practically undress one another with your eyes every time you see each other!”

“No we don’t!” you argued, but shrank back when Karlach raised an eyebrow at you.

“You do. You know you do.”

“Am I that obvious?” you asked, lifting your hands to your cheeks as you felt them heating up.

Karlach started counting on her fingers. “He’s always the first one you check on after a battle, you’re always walking next to him when we’re traveling, AND you let him drink your blood. Weirdly often. Which is gross.”

“I like helping him,” you countered weakly. “And I always check on you guys, too!”

“Of course you do, Soldier, but we can all see how you two treat each other differently.”

You peered over at Astarion’s tent. He lounged comfortably amongst his pillows, a book propped open in his lap and his bottle of wine was not too far off.

How could he be so casual and relaxed about all of this? The thought of talking to him later tonight made your stomach drop.

“What if I turn him down?” you asked softly, leaning forward to hug your knees.

Karlach’s expression softened. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” She reached out a hand, but retracted it. “If I could, I’d rub your back like my mum used to do when I was a kid.”

You smiled over at her. “Thanks.”

She nodded. “If you don’t want to sleep with the leech, that’s your choice. Don’t let him talk you into it if it’s not what you want.”

“I’m not entirely sure what I want,” you admitted, looking up at the familiar stars above.

Karlach sighed. “Well, you don’t have to decide anything tonight.” She nodded her head towards his tent. “In fact, I could go beat the shit out of him, if you’d like.”

You laughed. “Not necessary. But I appreciate the offer.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I know you will,” you smiled and settled your cheek on top of your knee. “I do really like him,” you confessed.

Karlach thought for a moment. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the problem?” She cocked her head curiously.

You sighed. “Sex isn’t really something… I have a great relationship with.”

“Ah,” Karlach nodded. “Same,” she joked, flaring her flames a little for good measure.

You snickered quietly. “I won’t get into it, but… yeah. No thanks. For now, at least.”

“Say no more,” she held up her hand and turned to observe Astarion at his tent. “You could always just see what he has to say? Maybe he just wants to show you he’s a master at shadow puppets or something.”

“That’s what I said!” you laughed, and Karlach joined in.

When you’d both settled, she spoke again. “But seriously, Soldier. Astarion may be a freaky vampiric bastard, but I don’t think he’d hurt you.”

“I don’t think he would either.”

“He knows we’d kill him.”

“I’m sure you’d all take turns sending him to the hells.”

“You bet your sweet ass we would,” she brought her fist to her hand as if preparing to punch this hypothetical Astarion.

After another quiet moment, she spoke again. “You don’t have to go with him tonight. Or, I could come with you, if you want. As backup.”

“Thanks,” you said, “but I think I need to have this conversation with him alone.”

“Of course.”

You looked back over at Astarion’s tent. He was now standing and stretching his arms over his head. When he caught you watching him, he smirked and threw a wink in your direction. You quickly snapped your head forward, back towards the center of the party. Groaning, you brought your hands up to cover your face.

“What am I gonna do?”

~~~~~

Staring into the trees ahead of you, you remained frozen in place.

The party had died down and dispersed about an hour ago, giving you and your companions plenty of time to perform a quick cleanup and head to bed. And just as Astarion had said, once a peaceful quiet had enveloped the camp, he’d come to your tent and wordlessly motioned for you to follow him.

Now you were wringing your hands, trying to convince yourself to follow after him into the forest.

Karlach was right: you didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to do. And Astarion was a reasonable guy.

To a degree.

Okay, no he wasn’t.

He was always prepared to kill someone who wronged him in an instant. But surely he’d be reasonable in this department. Your gut told you that that was true. And if it wasn’t, you’d sicc Karlach and the others on him.

You knew it wouldn’t come to that, though. You felt strongly that he was the type who wouldn’t react rashly to a rejection.

Before you’d even made up your mind to do so, you found yourself walking into the trees, following the general direction you’d seen Astarion head off towards. The least you could do was hear him out. And who knew, maybe this would be a funny anecdote in your friendship later on down the line. Only time would tell.

It took a few minutes of mindless wandering before you reached a clearing. You kept going, prepared to keep walking until you eventually found Astarion, when you spotted him emerging from behind a tree in your peripheral.

You screeched to a halt and turned to face him, growing stiff with nerves when you realized he was shirtless.

“There you are,” he said, his hand lingering on the tree behind him. “I’ve been waiting.”

He approached you slowly.

Seductively.

You stood completely still.

He continued, “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you.”

You swallowed thickly.

He moved even closer. “Waiting to have you.”

“About that,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “what exactly do you mean?”

Astarion’s sensual expression morphed into one of confusion. Then he laughed a little. “Isn’t it obvious? Tonight is about pleasure.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” you muttered.

While you were pretty sure he heard you, Astarion pressed on anyway.

“Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

“Astarion,” you said quickly, surging forward to grab his hands in yours, “please.”

He looked surprised, but quickly recovered with an alluring smirk. “Please what, darling?”

“We don’t have to.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Don’t have to what?”

You groaned and leaned your head forward to rest on his bare shoulder. After a second you lifted your face back up to look at him. “We don’t have to sleep together.”

This time, Astarion looked stunned. “Then… what are you doing here?”

You shrugged. “I thought we could talk.”

Astarion pulled away from you and took a step back. “‘Talk?’ I thought we had an understanding?”

“See, that’s the thing,” you said, “I did not understand.”

“Hmm,” he hummed and tilted his head in disbelief.

“I’m serious,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “I thought you wanted to spend time together.”

“Oh, but I do,” his lips quirked up mischievously. “I mean to spend the entire night with you, my dear.”

“And while that sounds great, I think you and I are having different thoughts about how to spend that time.” You held his gaze, willing him to hear you.

He humphed. “So you don’t want to have sex with me?”

“Not right now, no.”

He sputtered his lips together and threw his arms up. “And what does that mean?”

“It means… It means I don’t want to have sex right now. At all.” You watched his face scrunch in incredulity. “It has nothing to do with you!” you clarified, grabbing one of his hands again. “Believe me, this is all me.”

Astarion looked you up and down, scanning your body language. You still held his hand and leaned into him ever so slightly.

“What’s this then?” he asked, placing his free hand over the hand holding his.

You pulled away from him completely. “Sorry,” you said, “I end up touching the people I like. I don’t realize I’m doing it.”

He narrowed his eyes, putting the pieces together in his head.

“You like me.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t want to sleep with me.”

“Yes.”

“So… what? You want to be friends or something?” He made a sour expression.

You laughed softly. “I’d like to think we’re already friends, actually.”

“And why would you think that?” Astarion asked, but you saw in his eyes that he was teasing.

You smiled lightly. “Maybe because you won’t stop following me around Faerûn?”

“Well, it’s not like I-”

“Or maybe because you’ve had a taste of my blood and now you can’t get enough?”

“Okay, that’s-”

“Or maybe because Karlach said you treat me differently than you treat everyone else.”

“She did not!” Astarion sounded genuinely scandalized and you laughed.

“Face it, pretty boy, you like me, too.”

Astarion groaned and rolled his eyes. “This is not at all going how I planned.”

You pursed your lips and wrapped your arms around yourself again. “Sorry.”

He glanced back at you and saw you staring at the ground. He sighed.

“No, I’m sorry, darling.”

You met his eyes. He stepped closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. Instinctively, you leaned into his touch.

“I assumed you wanted the same thing as me, and I was wrong.”

“It’s okay,” you assured. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Still,” he said, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek, “I misread your touches as advances rather than…” He searched for the proper words. “One of your quirks.”

You exhaled, amused. “You didn’t entirely misread me.”

“Pardon?”

“I do like you. A lot. And if things were different, maybe I would sleep with you, but…”

Astarion pulled away from you and held up a hand. “No explanation needed, darling.” He smirked. “But it's good to know how you feel.”

You felt your cheeks go red. “Yeah,” you said, suddenly shy.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “You’re so adorable when you’re thinking of what to say.”

You shook your head and patted your cheeks. “I have another idea,” you said.

He nodded for you to continue and crossed his arms.

“Um… if it’s alright with you, I…” You paused, not exactly sure how he’d react.

“What is it, darling?”

“I’d like to… bathe you.”

Astarion uncrossed his arms and looked rather dumbfounded.

“What?”

Your words came out clumsily and a little too fast: “Or not! I don’t know, I just like you so much, and I’d like to be closer to you but I don’t want to have sex with you so I thought maybe we could get closer another way, or maybe-”

“Okay,” Astarion interrupted.

“Huh?”

He moved closer to you and brushed some hair out of your face.

“Okay,” he repeated softly. “Let’s bathe together.”

“Oh,” you said, disbelief painting your features.

Astarion laughed. “Did you assume I’d say no?”

You shrugged as a smile grew on your face. “I don’t know what I expected,” you reached for his hand, “but I’m really glad you said yes.”

~~~~~

The walk back to camp was pleasantly silent, save for the crickets singing their nightly aria. Astarion kept pace with you, the back of your hands brushing every so often, each time sending a tiny shock wave through your body.

This was happening. You were going to have a private, intimate moment with Astarion. Even if it hadn’t been what he originally intended, you were happy to think of a compromise that still allowed you to get close to him in a way that you knew the others in camp hadn’t, and probably wouldn’t. It made you feel special.

Happy.

And nervous.

Nervous as all hells, to be honest. You felt your heart speeding up with every step you took, bringing you closer to camp.

“Something wrong, darling?” Astarion asked, giving you a sideways glance.

You jumped a little when his voice broke the silence. “Huh?”

“Your heart, love. It’s pounding.” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “Nervous?”

“Oh, that.” You held a hand to your chest and focused on slowing your breathing. When you turned to look at him, you asked, “Is that weird?”

“Seeing as how this was your suggestion, maybe a little.” He smiled and nudged his shoulder into yours.

You groaned. “If this is too weird, let’s just not.”

Astarion halted and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He spun you to look into his eyes. “Whatever’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, darling, cut it out.”

“Oh, okay great. Done.”

“Really?”

“No, not really!” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He sighed. “Never is that easy, is it?”

It was a rhetorical question, but you shook your head anyway.

“Well, whatever’s making you nervous, I’ll strive to steer clear of it.”

He looked at you expectantly, as if he wanted some sort of explanation. You avoided his eyes and moved to continue walking towards camp. He followed close behind.

“It’s just that…” you paused, trying to collect your thoughts. “I haven’t been… naked in front of someone. For a while.”

Astarion bit his lip, mirth in his eyes.

“Don’t laugh!” you exclaimed, mortified.

“No, no, darling!” His tone was gleeful. “Apologies. It’s just that that’s what’s making you nervous? I’ll have you know that you’re one of the more beautiful creatures who I’ve attempted to bed. You have nothing to fear. I’ve seen all manner of bodies and I can assure you, yours will be nothing short of exquisite. In fact, your shyness is rather endearing.” He smiled at you, looking like he might still be withholding a laugh.

You flattened your lips into a line. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.” You began walking ahead of him but stopped when you heard him call your name.

“I may be a rake and a thief, but I’m no liar.”

You blinked at him. “Yes you are! You lie all the time!”

“Okay, yes, sure, but I don’t lie about things that matter! Things like this!” He motioned up and down, indicating your body.

Just as he did so, the two of you emerged from the trees and into camp. You held a finger to your lips and indicated for him to be quiet. He nodded and padded after you as you crept quietly towards the shore of the lake that lapped quietly next to your sleeping campsite. You bent to pick up towels, along with the bucket that held soap and other washing supplies that you and your companions shared in an effort to stay clean on the road. You held them up and motioned for Astarion to follow you again, away from where Withers stoically kept watch, and more towards where you’d spoken with Wyll earlier in the evening. When you turned to face Astarion, his eyes were full of questions.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” you asked.

He perked up and grinned. “My love, there is nothing I’d like more.”

You searched his eyes one more time to make sure he was serious. When you were satisfied with what you saw, you motioned for him to step into the lake.

“Ladies first,” you teased, looking anywhere but at Astarion.

He, in turn, looked down his nose at you. “I know what this is,” he said, pointing a lazy finger at you.

“What’s what?”

“You’re stalling, darling.”

“I am not!”

Astarion crossed his arms and tilted his head towards you, unimpressed.

Your posture fell into a slouch. “Okay fine, maybe I am stalling.”

“Really?” Astarion said dramatically before dropping his arms to his sides again. He approached you, close enough to where you could feel his cool breath on your face.

He placed both of his hands on your hips. You looked down to watch as his fingers drummed a calming rhythm into your sides. He whistled quietly, gaining your attention.

“Let’s start here,” he suggested, now fingering the hem of your shirt. He refused to let you look away.

You nodded.

“Good,” he purred as you raised your arms and helped him take off your shirt.

The cool air of the evening immediately sent goosebumps down your arms, and you unconsciously crossed them over your chest for warmth.

Astarion tsked. “Come now,” he protested and placed two gentle hands on your wrists, guiding them to your sides. “Lovely,” he praised once he was able to look at you.

You made an uncomfortable sound before placing your hands on your waistband.

“These probably need to come off next, right?”

“Typically that’s how one bathes themself, yes.”

“Right,” you agreed, watching as Astarion mirrored you and reached for his own waistband. You looked down at your legs as you removed your pants, leaving you in only your underwear.

“Goodness, love,” Astarion said quietly and you looked at him shyly. He himself was now only in his underwear. “You have nothing to be shy about. You’re magnificent.”

“Would you shush and get into the water please?” you half teased, half begged. Anything to end this weird tension you were feeling.

“Alright,” he laughed softly before reaching for the waistband of his underwear. He looked at you for approval. When you nodded, he removed them in one fluid motion as if he’d done this a million times. Maybe he had.

Regardless, you couldn’t help but stare at the space between his legs.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Eyes up here.”

“Sorry,” you said, immediately flicking your eyes up to his face. “I didn’t- It’s just-”

Astarion chuckled. “I understand.”

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Your turn,” he said, lifting his eyebrows.

You bit your lip and slowly reached for your underwear. When you pulled them off, Astarion watched you without a hint of judgment in his eyes. You ran a hand through your hair and shifted nervously on your feet.

He held out a hand to you and you stared at it before looking up at his face. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going in this frigid water alone, are you mad?”

You laughed and took his hand. He instantly pulled your body to his, holding you so that you were chest to chest. He gave you a seductive smirk before leaning in. You leaned away, avoiding his advances. You shook your head ever so slightly before stepping into the gentle water. Astarion remained standing on the shore before following after you.

Braving the cold of the water, you sunk down until you were sitting in neck deep water. You let the bucket you’d brought with you float next to you as Astarion crept through the water, clearly freezing.

“Why did I let you convince me to bathe at night? There’s no sun out to warm this wretched lake.”

You ducked your mouth below the surface to blow some bubbles in his direction. “You should know by now that dunking your whole body helps you warm up faster.”

He gave you a dirty look before slowly sinking down in front of you, yelping and contorting his face the entire time. You couldn’t help but squawk out a laugh.

When he was fully seated, he pulled you towards him, making you sit in his lap. He gave you a sensual look that had you frowning and pulling back. He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“When I said I wanted to bathe you, that’s all I meant.”

“Ah.” His tone was confused. Then he shook his head. “Right, sorry. This is - well… you know.” He smiled, looking like he was admitting defeat and that he wasn’t pleased about it. “I have no idea what to do with you.”

You swam behind him, pulling the bucket of soap towards you and laying your hands on both of his shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything.”

He spun to face you. “Nothing?”

You nodded and he huffed out a laugh. “No sex, no fooling around…I’m sorry, darling. It’s just - having to slow down, it’s… I’m just not used to it.”

“That’s okay,” you rested your hands on his shoulders again. “We’re in no rush.”

He hummed. “Can you… I don’t know. Help? Show me what to do?”

Laughing, you took his hand. “I’ll try.”

You led your weightless bodies into shallower water and had Astarion sit facing away from you, towards the shore. Reaching for the bucket again, you pulled out a bar of soap and a sponge.

“Relax,” you cooed, seeing how tensely he held his shoulders close to his ears.

He let loose a breath and you watched as he relaxed his muscles. Your eyes traveled lower, suddenly catching a glimpse of a complicated and gruesome scar on his back. Your eyes widened, taking in how the water and moonlight reflected off of it. Calmly, you dipped the sponge in the water and added soap before gently rubbing his right shoulder. Astarion melted further, allowing his neck to tilt forward, which, in turn, gave you a better view of his scarred flesh.

“Um… Is it okay for me to wash your back?” you hesitated in bringing the sponge across his shoulder and over his back to his other shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t - oh. I suppose you’re talking about the poem.” He barely looked over his shoulder at you.

“I’ve never seen a poem like this,” you said quietly, a hint of anger in your voice.

He chuckled darkly in response. “It’s a gift from my old master, Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. Do you like it, darling?” He shimmied his shoulders, mockingly preening over the evidence of his own torment.

“Not at all,” you said evenly, continuing to wash his shoulders.

“Ouch, love, you’d hurt his feelings if he heard that.” Not a hint of joy reached his eyes.

“I don’t much care about the feelings of this old master of yours.”

“Oh, be still, my undead heart,” he held a hand to his chest sarcastically. Then he sighed. “You’re allowed to wash it. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” His voice was quiet when he said, “Thank you for asking.”

Wordlessly, you moved the sponge from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades.

“I’m not going to break,” he laughed softly, “you don’t have to be so gentle.”

You increased the pressure you were applying to his skin before adding more soap to the sponge. “Move up a little,” you instructed, tapping him to move closer to the shore. “Lean forward.”

Now you had a better angle to wash away the grime of the road from his back, and an even better view of the scar. You clicked your tongue and set to work.

Perhaps uncomfortable by your silence, Astarion began to speak again. “He, Cazador, composed and carved that poem over the course of a night.” There was a venom to his words. Maybe a deep regret, or a weighing sadness. “He made a lot of revisions as he went.”

Your hand paused over a particularly brutal ridge. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against the raised tissue. “You’re brave for enduring that.”

“What are you doing?” Astarion straightened, making you push your cheek further into his skin.

You pulled back immediately. “Sorry, I wanted to hug you. I should have asked. I just… wanted you to know that I care.”

Astarion looked over his shoulder at you blankly. “You ‘care?’”

You nodded. “Turn back around, let me keep washing you.”

He gave you a slight nod before facing forward again and leaning over.

After another silent moment of gliding the sponge across his back, you asked, “Any idea what it means? Or is it just some pattern?”

Astarion let out an unamused laugh. “Hells if I know. Not sure how much you know about vampires, darling, but typically, we can’t see our reflections.” He spoke as if talking to a child.

You splashed his back with a small wave from your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You’re lashing out at me when I was just asking a question.”

“I-” He paused. Then he fell silent.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped but… I’m not your enemy,” you said gently. “We don’t have to keep talking about this. We don’t have to talk at all.”

Astarion groaned. “Silence is dreadful, darling.”

“Is that why you never stop talking?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood again.

“Good one,” he said flatly, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “I only talk because you lot never have anything interesting to say.”

You scoffed with a smile. “I have plenty of interesting things to say!”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Like-” you thought for a moment. “Like the other day! When I was talking with you about your embroidery!” By now you’d moved on to washing over Astarion’s arms. You spun him to face you so you could wash and massage his hands.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Unfortunately, darling, that’s not an entirely interesting topic, seeing as how I was in the middle of mending a shirt and you just wanted an excuse to talk to me.”

“I did not!” you denied, massaging between his fingers. Unconsciously, his fingers curled around yours before retracting and flexing.

“Deny all you want, you still didn’t say anything interesting.”

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “If I’m so uninteresting, why did you want to spend the evening with me of all people?” You were massaging his other hand.

“You-” He paused again.

“I?”

“You’re… I’m still trying to figure you out.” His voice grew softer when you pulled yourself closer to wash across his chest. You sensed the shift and looked up at his face to make sure he was okay with your actions. When he nodded minutely, you continued.

“If you’re trying to figure me out… one might say that you’re interested in me.”

He groaned. “Say whatever you want to help you sleep better tonight, darling.”

“Uh huh,” you said pleasantly to yourself, feeling like you’d won. You looked away to add more soap to the sponge and when you looked back, you realized how close you were to his face. His pupils were blown wider than usual and you could see yourself reflected in his eyes against the moonlight. His breath tickled your face.

He watched you with an intensity that had you hesitating. Why was he so-?

“Look up,” you said, looking up yourself to demonstrate what you wanted. “Please.”

He held your gaze for as long as he could before looking up at the sky.

You carefully brushed the sponge along his throat, pausing briefly when you got to the twin wounds on his throat from the night he was turned. You circled them gently with the sponge before rinsing the suds with water cupped in your hand. A shiver ran through Astarion’s body.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said looking back down at you once you’d finished rinsing the suds away. “But I’d very much like to kiss you.”

You blinked a few times before resting your forehead against his. When you pulled back, you asked, “Is it okay for me to wash your hair?”

Astarion looked at you for a moment, his eyes flicking to your lips for a second before meeting your eyes again. “I suppose so,” he said.

“I don’t have to. Your legs are still-”

“I can handle my own lower half, thank you.” He winked at you.

You smiled and handed him the sponge before bringing yourself to rest behind him again. You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water.

“You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket for Astarion to see.

“I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.”

“A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.”

“I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked.

Instead of dumping the entire bucket on his head like you threatened, you poured a gentle stream along the back of his skull before moving forward to evenly wet the rest of his hair.

“Bloody hells, that is cold,” he pushed some flattened curls out of his face.

“For being a fearsome vampire, you sure are a wimp,” you teased.

“I could rip your throat out.”

“And I might be able to drown you.” You placed firm hands on both his shoulders and pushed gently, as if you wanted to test your theory.

“Terrifying,” he smirked, running the sponge along his legs underwater.

“You should see what I did to those goblins who were holding Halsin hostage.”

Astarion laughed. “I know, darling, I was there. Who knew you could be so hellbent on vengeance?”

You laughed softly, coating your hands in soap before running them through his curls. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Like?” he prompted.

“Astarion!” you exclaimed sarcastically. “You want to know more about me?”

“Well if I knew you’d make a fuss, I wouldn’t have said anything.” Despite his tone, his eyes were closed in pleasure as you continued to massage his scalp.

You chuckled quietly, trying to think of something to share with him.

“I’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate my whole life,” you started.

“A shame we never crossed paths.”

“I’m not entirely sure you’d spare me a passing glance.”

Astarion opened his eyes. “Don’t say that.”

You shrugged. “I read a lot, growing up, and liked being indoors. But I also liked the outdoors. I helped my dad tend our garden, and helped my mom cook dinner–”

“How quaint.”

“We’d visit my aunt in the Upper City every Midwinter, and I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.”

“Pity, you have such a promising career as a spa keeper.”

You examined Astarion’s head to make sure you hadn’t missed a spot. When you were pleased with your own work, you continued: “This is the first big adventure I’ve ever been on.”

“First brain worm?” Astarion opened one eye and pointed to his temple.

You laughed and nodded.

He smiled. “Mine, too.”

You filled the bucket with more water and held a hand over his forehead to keep soapy water from splashing into his eyes when you poured the fresh water over his foamy locks.

Astarion sighed as the soap began to wash away. You filled the bucket again to repeat the process.

“Did you ever foresee yourself bathing a beautiful vampire, when you were a child?”

You pursed your lips. “I mean, I had my hopes.” You smiled as he let out a laugh.

“Tonight definitely didn’t go how I expected,” he admitted.

“You didn’t foresee yourself getting bathed by your incredibly interesting leader?”

He let out an amused breath from his nose. “No I did not.”

You finished rinsing out the last of the soap from his hair, but continued raking your fingers through it. “Are you disappointed?” Your voice was small.

He turned to face you, making your hands disconnect from his curls. “Not at all,” he said, sounding genuine. “Pleasantly surprised, actually.” He thought for a moment. “And cleaner than I’ve been in weeks. Probably.”

You laughed. “Happy to have provided my services.”

He smiled at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. “This was nice.” He lifted his hand to swipe through his hair. “Let’s hope you didn’t ruin my hair.”

“With soap and water?”

“You might have done it wrong,” he teased.

“How? It’s soap and water!”

“Not so loud,” he chuckled, nodding his head towards camp. You could vaguely hear Gale snoring in the distance.

“I’m leaving,” you joked, moving to get up, but Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into the water.

“Am I not to return the favor?”

You looked back at him and half smiled, patting his cheek. “I’m not convinced you’d do a thorough enough job.” With that, you pushed away from him and got up, gathering the bathing materials and walking back to shore where towels awaited.

Astarion sputtered behind you. “How dare you! I could give you a massage, the likes of which you’ve never experienced before!”

“You know, sometimes, Astarion, people do things for other people, and don’t want anything in return.” You threw the towel over your head to start drying your hair before wrapping it around your body.

Astarion did the same before bending to pick up your discarded clothes. “I- Well… You-” He sighed heavily. “You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?”

“I’m not trying to be,” you shrugged.

“And yet,” he sidled up next to you, offering you his arm, “you are.”

You took his arm in one hand and the bucket of washing supplies in the other and followed him as he led you back into camp. You placed the materials back where you found them and brought your newly freed hand up to wrap around Astarion’s arm. You leaned your head onto his shoulder.

When you arrived at your tent, he handed you your clothes.

“I suppose this is where we end our evening,” he said quietly so as not to wake the others.

“I suppose so,” you agreed, your eyes shining as you looked at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Thank you for letting me do that,” you said, still holding his arm. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“I did,” he said. “Very much, actually.” When he saw the excited look on your face, he amended, “Don’t be weird.”

“I’m not weird,” you said, weirdly.

“Uh huh,” Astarion said, pulling his arm out of your grip, not unkindly.

“We can do it again,” you bobbed on your feet, “if you want.”

“I… could be persuaded,” he nodded.

“Good,” you said. Then you surged forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. Goodnight Astarion.” You turned and ducked down into your tent.

“Pleasant dreams, darling,” he said softly.

You didn’t see how his hand lingered on his cheek where your lips had made contact, didn’t see the small smile that crept onto his face or the mask beginning to slip.

Instead, you had pleasant dreams filled with laughs and curls and a flash of fangs accompanied by a smile of delight.

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thenationofzaun · 4 days ago

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Thoughts on Act 1 of Arcane Season 2

The positives:

- The animation is fucking incredible.

- Jinx and Sevika teaming up watered my crops and cleansed my skin.

- Underwater goodbye with Jinx and Silco. That scene was made specifically for me.

- Jinx's voice actress continues to be excellent.

- Loved the designs of all the Chembarons. The glimpse we got of the gang wars was also interesting. Unfortunately, too tiny a glimpse. Which brings me to...

The negatives:

- Too many plotlines. They stuffed the season with too much shit which is why each individual plot gets a much shorter screentime than it should. Smeech is introduced and killed in the same episode. Chembarons' gang wars, a huge issue which has repercussions on the entire Undercity, gets only one musical montage before moving on. And this is coming from someone who loved that montage, as well as the song. My favourite on the soundtrack so far. But musical montages shouldn't come at the expense of the story and definitely shouldn't replace the story. There are just way too many music video scenes in general that feel like a way to condense a storyline into the sparknotes version because they don't have the screentime to flesh it out. And they would have the screentime if they cut out all the extra stuffing. Look I'm happy for the League fans who are excited for the Black Rose and all that, but what the hell is it doing in a Piltover/Zaun show. And with zero foreshadowing in Season 1 too. It would definitely be easier to swallow if they had at least hinted at it in the first season. They could have kept Ambessa's beef with this magic cult for a Noxus show. The P/Z narrative has enough to deal with, enough characters to handle already.

- The new side characters are uninteresting and generic. Maddie and the two other enforcers (we don't even know their names after three episodes LMAO) are bland. We know nothing about their characters or personalities. Maddie looks like a rookie, and one of the dudes is an alcoholic, yet they get chosen for an elite strikeforce to capture Jinx? Isha is pretty generic too - the token cute kid that needs protecting. I get the role she will play in Jinx's arc. But that's the problem - she should be a character in her own right, not just a vehicle for someone else's character development. A good example is Mylo. He died for Jinx's arc, but when he was alive he was a distinct character with his own personality. We had a sense of his insecurities, his goals, who he was as a person. Name a single personality trait of Isha and Maddie other than "generically nice person". That's right. You can't.

- Whatever the hell is going on with Viktor. He wakes up from his coma and immediately rejects Jayce so quickly that it was funny. Apparently disapproves of Jayce using the Hexcore to save his life, but then immediately goes to use the Hexcore to save random Undercity people. Bruh. I also don't really like the way the fridged woman from last season seems to be his motivation so far. Nor the way he seems to have no agency in his Machine Herald arc. Instead of Viktor himself believing in transhumanism and mechanizing himself, Jayce does it for him. Instead of Viktor having an ideological drive and wanting a "Glorious Evolution", he is driven by guilt over Sky. Meh. Also he's not even mechanized, instead he's weirdly fleshy?? In a magical way?? More like The Magic Herald :(

- Vi. Her whole character is a mess. Insanely rushed arc which I find unacceptable for one of THE main characters and one of the faces of the show. She and Jinx are supposed to be the leads, their relationship the heart of the story, but so far only Jinx is a well-written fleshed out chaacter with a believable arc. I have too much to say about Vi so I'll expand more on this on another post.

- So much nuance and detail is missing. How does Heimerdinger feel about his ex-colleagues being killed? Does he care? Does he feel guilt? Relieved that he wasn't in the chamber when the bombing happened? No clue! Let's have comedy Mission Impossible instead! How does Ekko feel about the Council attack? Does he approve of it? Think Jinx went too far? How does he feel that she even survived their fight to begin with? No clue! Here, have him joking around with a Councilor for a bit (someone whom Ekko logically should despise), then he can talk Science with Jayce and all three get sent to another dimension together. Yay. What does Vi think happened to Ekko? The last time she saw him, he was fighting Jinx to the death to give Vi and Cait time to escape. He could be dead for all she knows and she doesn't give a fuck. Doesn't even think about him nor mention him once. It's like the writers forgot they're childhood friends. What does the entirety of Zaun make of Silco's death? I assume they heard about it from Piltover (who heard about it from Caitlyn), but how do they think it happened? His body is gone and to Zaun it seems he just mysteriously disappeared. Are there conspiracy theories? Conflicting accounts and rumours? So much nuance that would give the world and characters more depth, sacrificed so we can pack in more rushed subplots and music videos.

- Caitlyn "Wifebeater" Kiramman. And Caitvi in general. So far Caitlyn has guilt-tripped Vi, manipulated her into joining the enforcers, insulted her and then physically abused her. After Vi sacrificed everything for Cait, wore a badge she hates for Cait, even let Cait kill her own fucking sister (and only intervened when the random kid got involved). Why should I give a shit about such a one-sided relationship lmao. "B-but Cait's mom is dead so she's sad about it", every other fucking character in this show has dead parents. Half the cast has faced unfathomable amounts of trauma and pain that make Cait's pale in comparison. Nothing justifies her hitting Vi. "B-b-but it's a parallel to when Vi hit Powder", a shit parallel then. Because the circumstances are not even remotely comparable. "God forbid lesbians do anything🤪", give me a break with this corny bullshit. Be serious for a second. I'm not even a Vi fan and I think she deserves better than this mess of a relationship. The power dynamic between them makes it worse. The way Caitlyn is one of the richest people in the city and Vi is broke. The way Caitlyn is highly educated and Vi never went to school and spent her entire teen years locked in a box. Did the writers think about all this when writing their relationship? Keep in mind, Vi met Caitlyn like a week ago. She barely knows this chick. She's been out of prison FOR A WEEK. Where she was physically abused every fucking day. Putting her in a relationship with a cop who hits her would certainly be a choice! Do I have faith this show will handle it with care? Not really, no. They already ignore Vi's prison trauma. Most likely they will make Vi forgive Cait way too easily because "muh mummy muh grief".

#i could write essays on how much of a fumble vi's character is #her prison trauma. her reason for joining the enforcers. her relationship with jinx. so much potential for a rich character squandered.#will have to elaborate on another post #arcane #arcane league of legends #league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane netflix #vi #jinx #viktor #caitlyn #sevika #jayce #caitlyn kiramman #silco #arcane s2

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hetalian-veteran · 3 months ago

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The Draw of the Hetalia Fandom (and Why You Can Never Leave)

From the perspective of a fan of (technically) twelve years or so.

Something occurred to me a while back, and I wanted to share it to get other people's thoughts. I'll try to add funny pictures and gifs to break up the wall of text so it won't be as exhausting to read.

I made a post the other day about how the Hetalia fandom always draws you back in. This was, of course, based on the joke about how you can never really leave the Hetalia fandom. A joke you can find virtually everywhere you look in fan spaces online.

But this begs the question. Why? Why can't you ever truly leave the Hetalia fandom? What is it about this fandom that consistently draws you back in?

And note that people don't talk about Hetalia itself, but rather its fandom. You could stop watching the show or reading the comics for years, but the fandom is what won't fully leave you be.

(The Hetalia fandom every time you check to see if it's dead yet).

One answer I've heard has to do with the phenomenon known as Associative Memory, where you can learn and remember the relationship between unrelated items.

For example, you watch Hetalia, a series about the countries of the world personified as anime characters. These characters have their own personalities, traits, quirks, etc. And the more you watch the show and get into the fandom, the more you start to associate these things with one another.

For instance, someone can say the word Italy, and I'll start thinking about Feliciano Vargas. Or someone could say the name Matthew Williams, and I automatically associate that with Canada. Or I could see bushy eyebrows and immediately start thinking of APH England. Heck, someone starts talking about Vikings and my thoughts almost always go to the Viking Trio of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. I could go on, but you get the idea.

And there's also the fact that we live in a world full of the countries that the show has personified characters of, which would in turn likely remind you of Hetalia.

But there's something more here going on. I've thought about it for a long while, and I think I've realized one of the biggest reasons why you can't fully leave the fandom.

It's because of how versatile the characters of the series can be in fan content. Allow me to explain.

(Me preparing to explain to everyone the epiphany that came to me one dark, stormy night).

Hetalia is a series with literally no plot. Like, zero. Some episodes may impact each other, but the overall series is episodic in nature. The only episodes you'd have to watch in order would be the ones going over the miniature love story between Chibitalia and HRE. And then there's the sequence of episodes going over the Industrial Revolution in season seven, and then the sequence of episodes explaining the relationship between Czechia and Slovakia. But that's it. And the Industrial Revolution and Czechia and Slovakia episodes aired in the latter seasons, long after the fandom was already very big and well established.

The episodes are largely adaptations from the original webcomic and thus are all a bunch of skits haphazardly thrown together. So I'll reiterate what I said earlier; there is no real, canonical plot to Hetalia. There are canon events and facts about canon characters, but seeing as the show is largely skits, they aren't tied down to any real narrative.

(The Hetalia fandom whenever they're given a piece of canon they don't like).

This leaves a lot of room for headcanons. Which leads to fans sharing their headcanons online. And when headcanons get super popular, they become fanon. And when a piece of fanon gets super popular, where it finds itself getting mingled with fanart, fanfiction, and even fan theories, you'll have people who start to confuse it with actual canon. There's really a lot to be said for the wild fanon of Hetalia, but I'll get to that another day. I need to turn the focus back onto the characters themselves.

I'm just gonna put it out there. The Hetalia characters are largely one-note. This isn't to say there isn't some depth to a few of the characters, but these characters are largely the epitome of "what you see is what you get." Especially in the early days of the series. The characters all have a set of straightforward, basic character traits, with their interpersonal relationships often being displayed in a very simplistic manner.

For example, Italy is a pasta-loving coward who's a massive flirt. Germany is strict and authoritative with a no-nonsense attitude. Japan is quiet and soft-spoken, only speaking up when he feels the need. America is a bombastic dork with a hero complex. England is an arrogant stick in the mud. France is a hopeless romantic who flirts with anything that has a pulse.

(Me taking a moment to pause and push away the cringy middle school memories of me shamelessly fangirling in class).

And as I said, their relationships are typically portrayed as simplistic as well. Italy annoys Germany, but Germany doesn't want to get rid of him because he's one of his only friends. England and France hate each other. America is that hyper-extroverted friend trying to get his introverted friend, Japan, out of his shell. Switzerland and Lichtenstein have a sweet sibling dynamic. And Prussia and Austria are portrayed as old friends who like to antagonize one another.

Because of the way the characters and their interpersonal relationships are written, this also lends them open to a lot of headcanons and eventual fanon. Not to mention that most of the characters have canon, human names. So if you want to use these characters in a fanfiction, particularly one where you don't want to depict them as countries (which is most fanfics), you have names at the ready that you can use.

And because of the simple way the characters are written, you can potentially write or portray these characters however you want in fanwork without too many people complaining that someone "isn't in character." There is so much room for your own interpretations of the characters. As long as you keep some of their basic personality traits from the series intact, you can portray the characters however you want. Especially because there's no real canonical storyline to drag them down. Because of the lack of canon storyline, you don't have to worry about fanworks being canon-compliant, canon-divergent, or canon-adjacent.

(Fanfic writers when they realize canon cannot stop them from creating whatever they want).

Do you want to portray Romano as the notorious mafia boss, Lovino Vargas, in the 1930s? Go ahead. As long as you can keep some of his cowardly and stubborn nature intact, you can do what you want with little trouble.

Do you want to portray England as the infamous pirate, Arthur Kirkland, in the 17th century? As long as you maintain his disdain for France, have at it!

Do you want to write a college AU with all of the characters present? As long as you keep in mind their personalities and have a basic understanding of their interpersonal relationships, have fun!

Now you're probably sitting there thinking, "Big deal, people can create all kinds of fanwork, regardless of what its content is, or what property it's for. What makes the Hetalia fandom so special?"

It's special because, since Hetalia is a series with almost zero canonical storylines, and the characters are portrayed in such a simplistic way, both of which lend their way to boatloads of headcanons and fanon, as well as small scraps of canon information that we can choose to either ignore or elaborate like crazy on...

Hetalia is a freaking goldmine for creating all kinds of fan content.

(Hetalians when creating the 2p! variations of the characters, probably).

So much fan content is out there. From creepypastas, to Hetaoni, Dreamtalia, the 2p! characters, historically accurate AU's, school AU's, and so, so much more. All because the canon is just loose enough to allow all kinds of fan content to be created and not seem too far off from the series or characters.

And that fan content ends up being way, way more fun than the actual series itself! Don't get me wrong, I still love the show, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't (or currently don't) have a freaking blast every time I engage with fan content. The creativity is insane, and the fanon is even more fun and entertaining.

The reason you cannot fully leave the Hetalia fandom isn't just because of Associative Memory, but because of the immense amount of fan content and fanon where, because of the nature of the series, you can do, write, draw, and create whatever you want. You can project onto these characters and their stories and interpret them to your own personal tastes. And you know what? That's a heck of a lot of fun.

And there you go, that's my two cents.

#hetalia #aph #hetalia axis powes #hetalia fandom #aph fandom #hetalia fan #aph fan #hws #hetalia world series #hetalia the beautiful world #hetalia the world twinkle #hetalia world stars

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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago

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sex work is work, no problem with that, but spamming sex work absolutely everywhere now is not okay. bot or not, it is not okay to shove your probably fake/stolen tits or ass into everyone's face even where kids are. it is absolutely the lowest, cheapest trash doing that. are these people showing their barely covered up pussy to school kids on the street to maybe get a customer? because they are doing exactly that on the internet. if you cant find customers and need to lower yourself to std ridden junkey trash standards who missed the way and entitled themselves to begging for money outside trash town, zero support from me!

Yeah you really sound like someone who supports sex workers. That's what I always think when I hear people using words like "disease-ridden" and "junkie" - 'wow, that person must be SUCH an ally. braver than any US marine, thank you for your service, person who believes sex work is work but thinks STIs or drug addiction are 'trash'.'

So, point by point:

It's not absolutely everywhere. You don't see people trying to link their onlyfans on facebook most of the time (i've actually never seen it but i could believe it is happening, though it's not common because FB has real-name policies that are unfriendly to sex workers). You're unlikely to see fansly links as sidebar ads on cspan. People aren't linking their pages in the amazon reviews. You're seeing it "everywhere" because you're not going anywhere. Tell me you spend all your time on two to three platforms without telling me you spend all your time on two to three platforms. Instagram, tiktok, twitter, and tumblr are full of people who are promoting all kinds of brands and one of those kinds of brands is sex work.

Those are also all platforms that have age restrictions and behavior standards, and of all of them tumblr is the one that has the history of being the most openly sexual and the least connected to legal identities. People are linking to their diy porn because of the culture of these websites both currently and historically. I once posted a video on this website of me bringing myself to orgasm in a public bathroom stall then inserting a dildo into my vagina before I went on stage and performed a set with my band. I did it for free and for fun five years ago, the week before the porn ban hit.

What I'm saying here is that the culture of this website has a much longer history of openness about sex and sexuality and the visual presentation of sex than it does of being full of people who think teens shouldn't see nipples. This is an *extremely* reasonable place to post information linking to porn that you make and to use cute pictures of yourself to do so.

It's also really easy to tell that these people aren't bots or using stolen images because the whole point of the live platform is that you can click through and go talk to them. Strange Aeons did just that and you can see what happened. (click on that video for a fun cameo at 6:04) Turns out live users are just a bunch of people (not networks stealing images the way that actual porn *bots* on tumblr do) and the ones who are trying to do sex work on the live platform itself get banned.

But also kids too young to see the occasional boob shouldn't be on tumblr! (like, seriously, define kids. what age is too young to see the kinds of images allowed by the tumblr live tos? how about the ones banned by the tumblr live tos? How old should you have to be before someone shows you an ahegao face on a hoodie in public? What should the punishment be for the ahegao fashionistas for exposing six year olds to anime tongues? What should the minimum age be to go on the beach and see men in speedos? Fifteen, or is that still abusive to children? Maybe we should make it twenty to be safe, or better yet why don't we make it twenty AND ban speedos? this is what you sound like, you fucking asshole). Tumblr has age limits and people under that age limit shouldn't be looking at most things on this website. A smiling woman in a bikini top or a dude with his abs out are fucking nothing compared to the kind of damage you personally and specifically are trying to inflict with your shitty ideas.

Posting t&a on tumblr is not at all comparable to doing street level work and soliciting children for a number of reasons, but I'd just like to really take the time to point out that you just compared the profile pics on tumblr live to sexually soliciting a child. You literally did the "x group i hate are pedophiles" thing, which is exactly why it's such a huge problem that any and all types of nudity have been stigmatized online. We have created an entirely new paradigm of "pedophile" that means "existed around a child while wearing tight pants." You are such a fucking clueless, sanctimonious pile of shit that you can't even see that that's what you're doing. This is literally, exactly kink at pride discourse.

And that's even if I grant you that these people are posting t&a! Go look at the live leaderboards, you don't have to accept the ToS to see the leaderboards! We are talking about *at most* saucy pin-up levels of eroticism. I have seen fucking holiday cards with more visible cleavage than any of the top 200 tumblr live streamers right now.

The only thing in your final sentence that makes any sense is that you are positioning tumblr as trash town.

Yeah. I'm actually not at all impressed by tumblr recently and that has a lot more to do with the influx or resurgence of nuance-allergic, anti-sex, whiny shits like you than it does with a banner that i can scroll past in a quarter of a second.

I want people reading this to really, really sit down and think about what they're calling assault or hypersexualiztion or whatever. We are talking about profile pictures. You are so offended by a bar of 4 profile pictures at the top of your dash that you're comparing regular ass humans (some of whom are sex workers and some of whom are just streamers who took thirst trap selfies) to the real life solicitation and abuse of children.

TOUCHING GRASS IS NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU PLEASE GO INTERACT WITH ACTUAL REAL HUMANS WHO DON'T KNOW WHAT DASHCON OR MILKSHAKE DUCK ARE. YOU ARE CRITICALLY INTERNET POISONED AND IF YOU TALKED TO SOMEONE AT THE DMV AND DESCRIBED IT AS ASSAULTING CHILDREN TO HAVE SOMEONE IN A BIKINI ON A BILLBOARD THEY WOULD IMMEDIATELY BEGIN TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET AWAY FROM YOU. THINK OF THIS POST AS THE CARBON MONOXIDE DETECTOR TELLING YOU THAT THE SHADOWS YOU'RE SEEING AREN'T ACTUALLY DEMONS BUT THAT YOU ARE GOING TO REALLY REGRET IT IF YOU DON'T GO OUTSIDE.

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agoldenblackbird · 5 days ago

Text

i'm gonna be a ranty bitch for a minute.

tbh i'm turned off even reading new buddie fic despite being a multishipper and have unfollowed a bunch of buddie accounts because i'm sick of the smug attitudes. one ask that i am otherwise not going to publish or respond to ended with 'sorry you don't understand media literacy bestie :)' fuck off. listen INFANT, i have been writing fanfic and original fic AND watching, reading and analyzing queer media since before you were born, i understand how character and story development works, and i know the difference between 'storyline i personally disliked' and 'bad writing.' this was BOTH, and it also was marketed to us as 'carefully crafted bi rep' and 'queer love story that is not about a bunch of pain and conflict FOR ONCE' so we have every right to be upset at the bait-and-switch.

the fact that i'm seeing the same exact posts - 'bt bones buddie CANON' that i saw three seasons ago after the bucktaylor breakup, or every time they thought buck and taylor MIGHT break up - says something. the fact that so many fans seem genuinely convinced (STILL!) that buddie is inevitable because there have been so many 'signs,' and then they rattle off a convoluted theory that would make the most hardcore taylor swift stan say 'wow, that's a bit of a reach,' honestly weirded me out a little when i first joined the 911 fandom. i have never been in a fandom where so many fans are insistent that their ship will be - not might be or could be, but WILL be - canon. i am skeptical both from past experience with other shows mishandling queer storylines or ship-baiting, and tim minnear's proven track record with this one of not really knowing what to do with buck's LI's. but i didn't want to yuck anybody's yum, so i let them have their theories and squee in peace, and unfollowed or blocked certain tags if i was seeing too much of it and getting annoyed. it's too out there for me, but i'm glad they're having fun!

yet they can't give us the same courtesy. they deride us as delusional for thinking that a canon pairing that was presented to us both in promo and the show itself as different and important (eg the bobby approval convo and 'buck getting off the hamster wheel') might last, and we're stupid to have ever liked tommy or lou or be disappointed at how the breakup was written, and if we point out the biphobia it's just sour grapes.

the bucktommy breakup is not the first time 911 has started out strong with an interesting storyline and fumbled it in the 4th quarter either because the writers got bored or in the name of needless drama/a 'gotcha' sudden twist. amir & bobby, eddie's fight club arc, the sperm donor SL, hen vs councilwoman ortiz, whatever the hell is going on with harry, the whole mess with shannon/kim, just to name a few. and especially the past couple of seasons, for me since 6b, the pacing has been off. they seem to have too much happening at once and many of the storylines don't have enough room to breathe to be narratively satisfying, or they get resolved in ways that feel lackluster.

if the toxic buddie stans who have been attacking lou on sm and sending death threats (wtf!) actually get what they want, which i admit is possible, but it's certainly not guaranteed….i don't know why they think the writers won't fumble that just as badly. it's not going to happen precisely the way they want it to because it is impossible to please everybody, that's what fanfic is for. but at this point i have zero faith that it would even be well done at all, and zero trust in the writers not to just sabotage or regress a character for funsies, and that's an excellent reason to stop watching the show. in most of my other fandoms i regard canon as a jumping-off point or a blurry outline at best, and i can have just as much fun in the 911 sandbox without any further input from canon at all, once i'm less angry.

#911 #911 8x06 #tevan #bucktommy #birdie rants #birdie stuff

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python333 · 1 year ago

Note

I love your writings sm. And I love the way you write platonic stuff with task force 141 😋

You can ignore this if ya want but I just can't get over reader angst. Honestly atp I starve for angst. Could you feed us another angst fic? Like platonic 141 with a reader where she maybe got pretty badly injured while being on a mission? :3

AND. don't forget to stay hydrated and eat well!! Take any breaks you need 😌.

(sorry if this doesn't make sense English is not my native language 🥲)

below zero — python333

— — — —

synopsis u get thrown into a freezer after refusing to give up intel to enemy soldiers, and u get thrown into a freezer, and ghost comes and saves u :3

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 5.2k

warnings hypothermia, disorientation, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hi anon thank u so much for all the compliments!!! before i say anything else, i wanna point out that i 1) only really wrote ghost into this and 2) literally read the request completely wrong and i think im actually just illiterate because how did i mess up this bad. ALSO hi its been a month since i posted on here i swear i'm still alive i'm just super busy with school!! updates are going to be extremely slow, so i apologize in advance. still, i hope u enjoy it anyways tho!! its all hurt/comfort + angst/fluff + protective/soft ghost :3

When you were thrown into the freezer, the first thing you noticed were the bodies.

There’s ten that you can immediately see, and twelve once you look a little bit closer. All of them are suspended from the ceiling, each hanging from their ankle—with said ankle being held up by a meat hook.

When the door had been closed shut with a loud, booming thump you hadn’t felt any immediate fear. But now, as you’re sitting in the corner of the freezer you’d been trapped in—the corner farthest away from any bodies—that fear is starting to set in.

Before this, only a few minutes ago, you were being interrogated. Your captors were asking for information on the details of any upcoming missions, objectives, target locations, anything that you had about the 141 that you could share with them, they wanted.

Of course, you didn’t say anything. You remained silent throughout the entire thing, not talking once, even when at the end of the whole thing your interrogator slammed his hand down onto the table you were sat down in front of and yelled at you to say anything.

When he and his team figured out that you wouldn’t give them any information, you remember he muttered something unintelligible under his breath and swiftly walked over to your end of the table. He had uncuffed your ankles from the legs of the chair you were sitting down on and uncuffed your wrists from the table, and before you could fight back, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and dragged you behind him.

Then, he led you to the freezer you were trapped in now, and threw you in roughly before shutting the door behind you. You had hit and scratched at the door for a good minute after being thrown in, and after you figured that it was a waste of time trying to do so, you sighed and retired to the corner.

Now, as you’re huddled in the corner, you kind of regret not giving them the intel they needed.

The freezer wasn’t too bad at first—you thought you’d last pretty long in there, and mentally called all the dead bodies hung from meat hooks in there pussies and simply walked around for a bit. The walking helped warm you up a bit, but soon it got tiring, and you retired to the corner farthest away from any dead bodies.

You think the freezer is below zero degrees—no, has to be below zero, because now, just about five minutes after being thrown in, violent shivers have started to wrack your body and you swear you can’t feel your lips anymore. You haven’t been able to feel any sort of warmth in the past four minutes, all of it disappearing within the first.

And God, the smell. The smell of frozen, rotting flesh really isn’t something you ever want to smell again. Thankfully, there’s no live flies in the freezer—all of them had died of the severe cold, creating small black circles under each hanging body where they died.

You currently have your knees up to your chest with your hands trapped in between your thighs to try and keep them warm at least, with your forehead resting on the top of one of your knees. It’s working, kind of. The palms and backs of your hands feel just warm enough to not be considered cold, but the tips of your fingers are so cold they’re beginning to burn.

You pull them back a bit to trap your fingertips in between your thighs, exposing the area where your wrist and hand meet to the cold, sighing as your fingertips warm up just a bit. Your thighs, thankfully, still have some heat trapped in between them, and you think your stomach is still somewhat warm.

Around ten minutes later, you feel the heat trapped in your thighs start to dissipate. Fucking fantastic. You sigh and let your head tilt back, the back of it hitting the wall behind you, making you wince at the cold metal directly on your head. The cold seems to crawl through your hair and make it to your scalp, small pinpricks of the cold spreading throughout your scalp and the back of your neck.

You’re reminded of just how cold it is then, of how this is quite literally a freezer, and of how said freezer has already claimed twelve lives. Or, at least, has housed twelve dead bodies and several unfortunate flies.

Just then, the fear finally starts to set in.

At first, you weren’t all too worried about being saved—you figured you’d be found soon enough, since your team has a general idea of where you are. But the more you think about it, the more your brain emphasizes the general part of general idea. You start to think about how they don’t know any specifics.

Sure, they know that you were captured, and that you were being held in some small part of Italy, and the people who captured you—but what did they know beyond that? Did they know your exact location? How long would it take them to figure it out? And how long would it take them to get here?

Would you even be alive by the time they got here, if they ever did?

You notice your teeth starting to make an annoying chattering noise and you bite down to stop them. The violent shivers that wrack your body don’t help, the intense trembling only succeeding in making you more anxious. You start to become hyper aware of the cold that crawls onto your back from the freezing metal you’re leaning back on, and you quickly push yourself just a foot away from it so that it no longer bothers you.

Your feet are starting to feel numb, you don’t think you’d be able to stand on them anymore if you tried, for you fear you’d just stumble and fall down. You look around the small freezer. There’s nothing that could help you get out—there’s only the bodies suspended from the ceiling and the dead flies that surround them.

You’re glad none of the bodies are facing you—you don’t know what you would do if you had to sit in the corner with a bunch of dead bodies staring at you with their vacant, frozen-over eyes. Thinking about the eyes makes your own water, and you blink away the small tears that’ve gathered on your waterline.

You can’t feel them, but you see the tears that were once in your eyes now clumping together on your eyelashes, making your brows furrow. With them starting to cling to your eyelashes comes blurriness for the top half of whatever you can see. You sigh, a white puff of condensation hanging in the air as evidence of your exhale, and move your hand out from in between your thighs to wipe away the tears from your lashes haphazardly.

You don’t bother to put your hand back in between your thighs, instead just resting it on top of your knee. Despite it only having been around fifteen minutes since you were thrown into the freezer, you’re starting to feel more fatigued and your breath slows down significantly, as does your heartbeat.

Another ten minutes of doing nothing but staring at the wall opposite of your own pass by, and disorientation is starting to set in. You feel oddly forgetful—like at times, you forget how you even got into the freezer, and have to wrack your brain to remember that you literally got thrown into it and are now trapped in here until someone rescues you. Assuming they do. Who was it that would even rescue you?

You think long and hard for a few seconds, and can scrounge up nothing from your confused mind. You let out a frustrated huff and let your head tilt and fall forward so that your forehead is resting atop your knee, another shiver ripping through your frame. It almost feels like it’s getting colder in the fridge.

Suddenly, you hear a loud banging noise—albeit, it sounded more muffled to your ears, but you could tell it was loud—and guns being fired.

You can’t really tell when the gunfire dies down, but you can tell when the thumping of someone’s boots grows louder and closer to the door of the freezer. You try to stand up, not really knowing why since you’re in no condition to fight, having been in a freezer for about forty minutes, but you still attempt to.

You find that standing is extremely difficult after practically being frozen alive for the past forty minutes, because as soon as you try to even push yourself off of the ground with your shaky hands, you discover that you aren’t even strong enough to push yourself up a single inch before having to stop. As well as that, you find that the ground is just as freezing as the walls and air of the freezer, because your hands now ached with frostbite.

The action causes an unexpected wave of exhaustion to roll over you, and you pant to try and catch your breath, breathing white puffs of condensation out into the air.

You hear a loud bang against the door, and jump at the sound, your head whipping towards the door. You hear another loud noise, and the confused fog that’s taken over your mind only grows thicker, your disorientation only growing stronger with it. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the feeling reminds you of a word, and you know what the word is, but fuck, why don’t you know it at the same time? Why can’t I remember anything?

There’s another bang, and you hear muffled cursing before suddenly the door bursts open, a man wearing a skull mask stumbling in after it does so—he probably ran into it to open it, you think, watching the man get his balance back. He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, and the moment they do, you finally remember something.

That’s Ghost.

Somewhere in your confusion-clouded mind, you’re happy that you’ve finally remembered something. But right now, you can’t really think about anything—your mind is blank, and you can barely even process what you’re seeing.

You’re so caught up in thinking about the fact that you aren’t really thinking, you’re just focusing a little more on whatever’s going on in your mind and not actually retaining any of it, that you don’t even notice Ghost rushing towards you and kneeling down right next to you.

He pauses for a moment, but after a second he makes the decision to put one hand behind your back and snake one under your legs, the warm physical touch making you wince. Not that you didn’t like the warmth—you just didn’t like the sudden temperature change beneath your knees and across your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ghost grunts as he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you up into a sort of bridal carry. He nearly drops you because of how cold your skin is—for a moment he thinks your back and legs are wet, then he realizes that no, they aren’t wet, you’re just really fucking cold.

He takes a moment to make sure you’re secure in his arms before tilting his head to the side, all the way down to his shoulder, and muttering something into his earpiece. Despite being so close to him, his voice only sounds muffled to you—in all honesty, just about everything is starting to sound more muffled to you. You can only tell he’s done talking because he lifts his head back up and readjusts his arms around you, before walking out the busted-open door.

The walking quickly turns into running, which then turns into sprinting, making your surroundings go blurry and makes your vertigo worse—it almost feels like you’re falling. You’re grateful you haven’t eaten anything in the past few hours, because you fear that if you had, you would’ve thrown it all up by now. All you can see are blurred colors—the hallways, you vaguely remember, because I’m in a building. How’d I even get here? Why am I here? You’re pulled out of your confused thoughts when you’re set down on the ground somewhere, and forced into a lying position with your limbs all outstretched. When you slowly blink up at what you thought was the ceiling, you’re both surprised and not surprised when you see the blue-black night sky.

Not sure of what’s going on, you try to get up, but Ghost quickly pushes you back down, muttering something under his breath. He pauses for a moment, his blurred figure stopping any and all movements, before he suddenly picks you back up, making you wince at the way your head spins at the sudden movement. You hear a quiet, muffled—but clearer than before—’sorry’ from Ghost before he’s running again.

It’s a much shorter distance this time, and instead of immediately setting you down, you hear something click and suddenly you hear another muffled voice. They sound concerned, you mentally note, Or maybe confused. Maybe both, actually. No yeah, definitely both. Well, now just concerned. Or maybe that’s confused.

Caught up in your confused thoughts, you don’t realize that you’re being set down on a few comfy seats. You aren’t pulled away from your own thoughts until you feel two warm hands cupping either side of your jaw, and hear Ghost’s oddly distressed voice becoming more clear by the second. You now acknowledge the weird ringing in your ears that almost drown out the sound of Ghost, and struggle to figure out what he’s saying through the annoying noise.

“—something,” You catch the end of Ghost’s sentence, and blink up at him slowly.

“Huh?” You elegantly ask, coughing and wincing at your hoarse voice, not knowing how it got so hoarse—or why it hurt so much to talk. Your throat almost felt like it was burning, but it also felt oddly numb, a sensation you couldn’t quite put a name on.

“Oh my god,” Ghost sighs, his forehead falling onto your chest momentarily as he takes a few deep breaths. He brings his head back up from your chest and says, “I almost thought you were dead when I got in there. Jesus, you look dead. I need to— I need to get something, a blanket or— why the fuck don’t we carry any heat packs or anything in here? Swear to God, I’m gonna—” You don’t pay too much attention to Ghost’s panicked ranting and shift your head to the side to try and look at where you are, and you discover that you’re in a car. Oh. Cool. You spot the door on the passenger seat’s side still open and swinging a bit, as if it’d been opened quickly just a few moments earlier for someone to quickly get out.

Ghost suddenly backs up and gets out of the car, though staying within a foot of it, looking around for a moment before heading to the back of the car. Your head clears up the tiniest bit, just enough for you to be able to assume that he’s heading to the back of the car to get to the trunk for whatever reason, and you simply lie there on the seat cushions.

A few seconds later, Ghost comes back with a somewhat-fluffy jacket, and carefully gets into the car—half kneeling down so that he doesn’t need to lean on the seats to get to you. He tosses the coat over your chest, and it does absolutely nothing at first, at least not until Ghost gets a bit closer and tucks the coat tighter around you, treating it like a blanket. Then, it starts to warm you up just the tiniest bit. Beyond that, it does absolutely nothing. But props to Ghost for at least trying.

He quickly backs out of the car and once he’s out he closes the door behind him, and you want to get up for a moment, just to go see what he’s doing, but you don’t have to. He gets into the car again, this time in the driver’s seat, and he turns on the ignition. Once the car rumbles to life, he immediately turns up the heat and leans over to the passenger seat’s side in order to close the door, and with a grunt he manages to do so.

The newfound heat makes you shiver, and it almost feels like you’re in a microwave defrosting. Distracted by the sudden temperature change, you don’t pay attention to what Ghost is saying into his earpiece as he glances out the front window of the car and back at you. You simply tug the jacket tighter around your torso and relish in the warmth.

“—ay. So we’ll just leave then, and you’ll be fine?” You pick up from Ghost’s conversation, perking up at the mention of leaving, “Copy that, Captain. I’ll get them back to base.”

‘Captain’—Oh, he’s talking to Price—says something that makes Ghost sigh exasperatedly and take his index finger off of his earpiece, instead settling both of his hands on the steering wheel of the car and stealing one last glance at you before setting his eyes on the gravel ahead of him and pushing down on the gas pedal.

—

When you wake up, you’re significantly warmer than you were… however-long-it’s-been-ago.

You look to your left and see nothing but a white wall and a heart rate monitor—which displays that your heart rate is 115—then to your right, where you see Ghost sitting in a plastic chair close to the bed you’re laying in, eyes closed with his head tilted to the side and resting on his own shoulder.

You don’t bother trying to wake him up, not knowing how long he’s been asleep or how much sleep he’s gotten, and instead simply turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling.

After maybe five minutes of zoning out and staring up at the ceiling, you hear clothes rustling and look back over to your right, seeing Ghost start to stir in his sleep. Just a few seconds later, he stirs awake, slowly blinking his eyes open.

You watch silently as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and he breathes in sharply through his nose before looking over at you and seeing you staring at him wordlessly. You both blink at each other for a long, awkward moment before he speaks.

“… Did you, uh… how was your… rest?” Ghost asks, not sure what to say. What exactly do you say, after saving one of your teammates from potential death?

“Good,” You respond, your throat having an odd, small burning sensation when you talk.

Ghost looks like he’s holding back a few words for a moment after you speak, and after one expectant look from you, he mumbles, “You should really say ‘well’ or ‘fine’ instead. It’d be more grammatically accurate and is more grammatically aligned with the verb ‘rest’.”

“… Okay?” You blink, thrown off by the unexpected information, “I’ll, uh… keep that in mind, next time someone asks me how my rest was.”

“You get asked that often?”

“I only get asked that by you.”

“Ah.” Ghost nods, looking off to the side for a moment. You’d think he was your dad and you’d just asked him how babies were made with how awkward he was, and you honestly expected the next words out of his mouth to be ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ before he hesitantly asks, “D’you feel better? After the whole being-trapped-in-a-freezer… experience?”

“Experience?” You question, a light laugh evident in your voice, “Yeah, I feel better. I like being warm more than, y’know, being frozen alive. Laying down in a warm bed is nice.”

“I didn’t know how else to phrase it,” Ghost huffs out, leaning back in his seat.

“So you’re gonna correct me on my grammar but you can’t think of a better word than ‘experience’?”

“Don’t get smart with me, [c/n].”

“I’m just saying,” You shrug lightly, wincing a little when your shoulders ache as you do. Ghost notices this and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t mention it.

“Then stop trying to sass me.”

“Sass you? Jesus, fuck, don’t talk to me like I’m some preteen who just found out that they can talk back to their parents.”

“Isn’t that what you are, though?”

“No, I’m— you know what? Fuck you. Get out. I hate you. You suck.”

“That’s a colorful choice of words to say to the man who saved your life,” Ghost raises an eyebrow at you, “I’m still waiting for my ‘thank you’, by the way.”

“Don’t care, you’re never getting it,” You say stubbornly, making Ghost sigh and stand up. You look up at him as he stands up and try to sit up in your bed, but wince again when you try to move your arms. Still, you attempt to push yourself up, and only relax your weak joints and lay back down when Ghost presses a gentle hand to your shoulder to get you to stop trying to sit up.

“Don’t,” He warns softly—you didn’t know his voice could get that soft—as he pushes you back down, “Medics said you’re to keep laying down for a bit while you warm up. We’ve gotta wait until your BPM is below a hundred before letting you up.”

“That’s stupid,” You huff out, though not fighting Ghost pushing you back down.

“It’s not stupid,” Ghost lightly chastises you, “It’s doctor’s orders. Once your BPM is below a hundred, we’ll know you’re warmed up enough to start gettin’ up and walking around.”

“… Still stupid,” You grumble, not commenting on the way Ghost’s hand lingers on your shoulder even after you’ve already laid back down. Ghost sighs and kneels down so that his shoulders are level with the railing of your bed.

“You’re too stubborn.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not!” Your light arguing only proves Ghost’s point further, and he knows this, the knowledge of it making him snicker quietly.

“Uh huh. Sure, kid,” He begins to retract his hand from your shoulder, but upon seeing the disappointment that immediately seeps into your expression once he even barely begins to lift his hand from your shoulder, he immediately lets it rest right back onto your shoulder.

You both sit in silence for another few moments before Ghost speaks up again, this time a bit quieter and in that same soft tone he’d used earlier, “I tried to get to you quicker. But we needed some time to get your exact location, and when we found it we were a hundred and sixty klicks away, and it was just—it took us… some time to find you.”

“It’s fine. I understand,” You respond, about to shrug but stopping yourself, not wanting to feel that aching in your shoulders again, “I don’t even know how I let myself get captured, that— that’s probably on me.”

“You didn’t let yourself get captured, you just did.”

“Well…”

“Well, what?”

“I don’t know, I just—” You take a deep breath before continuing slowly, “I didn’t let myself get captured, but I also didn’t do enough to fight against it, so I feel like technically—”

“Fuck the technicalities about how you got captured, you got captured either way, and you got thrown into a freezer,” Ghost cuts you off, talking quickly, before sighing and continuing in a softer voice once again, “Please, just let me try to be somewhat comforting for once. You know I’m bad at this, and that I never do this. So just… don’t talk about what happened like that, if not for your own mental health’s sake, at least for my attempts at making you feel better.”

You open your mouth to say something else but ultimately close your mouth and let out a deep sigh through your nose, not saying anything, letting Ghost continue to talk.

“I, for whatever reason, feel… very oddly bad for you,” Ghost poorly explains, before pausing to think for a moment then rephrasing, “Not… not as in I pity you, but as in I feel bad for you in a way that I feel like I’m at fault for what you went through even though I know I’m not at fault. It’s like empathy but… worse. Not saying empathy is bad to begin with, but this is like if empathy was bad and it became worse and—”

Ghost cuts himself off with silence and lets out a frustrated huff at his inability to put his feelings into words, and tries again, “I feel bad for you in a way that I don’t know what exactly you felt or how you felt in the moment that you were in that freezer but just the idea of you being in there without me for… I’m assuming an entire hour, if not longer, makes me feel like I failed. I don’t know what I failed at—”

Ghost quickly pauses before sighing and continuing, “Actually, no, I do. I feel like I failed at protecting you. Which is strange, because that’s technically not my job, but I felt—and still feel—obligated to protect you especially and that bothers me. Not bothers me in a sense that I don’t like you or the thought of… protecting you, but bothers me in the sense that I’m not supposed to feel like that. No amount of teasing, or borderline bullying, or anything should’ve ever made me feel obligated to think of you like— like— like…” Ghost trails off, leaving you wondering what he meant to say. He stays silent for a few moments, before you try to fill in for him.

“Like… what, a kid?” You offer, watching him shake his head negatively. You think for another moment, before trying again, “… Like your kid?”

Ghost nods affirmatively, hesitantly, and you want to scoff at the hesitation.

“And what, that’s bad to you?” You ask, your words more venomous than you intended. Ghost sighs and nonverbally shakes his head negatively before responding to you.

“Not bad in the way you’re thinking,” He answers, before elaborating upon seeing your confused expression, “It’s bad not because you’re bad, it’s bad because I’m bad.”

“… No you’re not?”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re really not,” You insist stubbornly.

“Please don’t be stubborn with me on this,” His tone makes it sound like he’s almost begging you, which is… somehow beyond terrifying to think about.

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest, you’re really not.”

“But I am,” He sounds like he’s trying to make his tone sound like there’s no room for any further arguments, but he fails, and you continue to argue with him.

“No you’re not!” The whole conversation feels like a parallel to the one you’d both been having just a few minutes earlier, except this time you’re not giving up as easily, “How are you bad?”

“I’m—” Ghost pauses for a moment, not having expected that argument, and he weakly argues, “I just am!”

“You’re not, and you fucking know it!”

“Okay, well—” Ghost sighs and looks away from you, “You might not think so. That’s fine. But I know I am. If not for anything else, for you. I’d be… terrible as any sort of… I don’t know, role model to you.”

“Jokes on you, you’re already a role model to me.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “You aren’t a terrible role model. A little emo, sure, but not terrible.”

“I’m emotionally and mentally unstable, and am terrible with empathy. I’m blunt, abrasive more than half the time, and I tell the shittiest jokes known to man. I can’t— I don’t show my face to anyone. I expect everyone to act the way I want them to. I’m almost always busy.”

“At least you’re self-aware,” You brush off, “And, for the record, I don’t know what abrasive means and I can’t tell empathy from sympathy without using Google.”

Ghost looks back at you in disbelief and stares for a moment before saying quietly, “Abrasive means harsh. And empathy is showing understanding for others while sympathy is pity.”

“I also like your shitty jokes,” You add on, “I think they’re great. They make everyone else mad so I like them. And some of them are funny.”

“You find them funny?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s…” Ghost blinks at you, eyes a little watery, before huffing out a small laugh, “That’s ridiculous, none of them are funny. I call them shitty for a reason.”

“Some of them are pretty funny.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“The Mayflower one.”

“… That one?” Ghost asks, tone humorous but still disbelieving, “Out of all the ones I’ve told, that one?”

“Yes, that one,” You insist, before pausing and holding back a smile while tacking on, “Unless you wanna tell it again to try and change my mind?”

Ghost thinks for a moment before telling the joke, “If April showers bring May flowers, what do Mayflowers bring?”

You feign cluelessness for a moment, “What do they bring?”

“Pilgrims.” The bluntness of the delivery makes you quietly snicker, much to Ghost’s surprise, the laugh not forced or anything.

“It’s still good,” You sigh, small giggles still escaping your lips.

“It’s really not,” Ghost sighs, finally retracting his hand from your shoulder to settle it on the railing of your bed and use it to help himself stand up. Once he fully stands up, he looks down at you, and one look at your face makes him want to whisk you out of bed and at least hug you, but he knows he can’t with your sore muscles and still-somewhat frozen skin.

Instead, he opts for grabbing one of your hands gently and giving it a very emotionally charged squeeze, and holding it for another few moments before letting go.

“I’m not forgetting that, by the way,” At Ghost’s confused eyes, you tack on, “You confirming earlier that you think of me as your kid.”

“That—” Ghost stammers for a moment before saying, “That was barely a confirmation, that was just— that was nothing.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. Yeah. Yep.”

“So if I told you that you saying that that was nothing is making me a little bit upset…”

“… Then I would say, out of pity, that I did mean it and that it was a confirmation.”

“Good to know,” You nod.

“But that’s only a hypothetical.”

“Right, yeah, of course.”

You both stay silent for another moment, the silence now a little less awkward, before Ghost says, “I’m gonna, uh… head out, now.”

“Alright,” You hum simply, watching as Ghost nods to you as a sort of ‘bye’ before heading towards the curtains in front of your bed.

Before he can exit, you quickly and quietly say, “Thank you, for saving me.”

He pauses, a little confused on why you chose now to thank him—and why you thanked him at all—until he quickly recalls earlier in the conversation when he’d mentioned expecting some words of gratitude.

He smiles behind his mask, the smile evident in his voice as he replies to you, “No problem.”

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