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madschiavelique · 2 days ago

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A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 14 - Eight of Wands

summary : garen tries to help you out a bit after the events with fiora, and things start getting much better than you thought they would evolve to but also : what is this feeling you're starting to feel?

content warnings : hurt. (sorry), mention of blood and fighting + injuries, some sort of comfort? adults communicating (i know, that's so hot right), also omg um tension? hihi we're on the tension road now and it will escalate chapter after chapter

word count : 11,2k

author's note : okay this is a big boi of a chap here loves, and i hope you will like it! as always i'm in big doubts about it because i've been wondering about the pacing and whether i'm going too fast or not for it, let me know in the comments!!! speaking of which, i know i haven't been able to answer to all the loverly things you guys said, but i want you to know that i read everything i received and cherish it with my whole heart <33 thank you so much. imma try and work on some of my requests bc gadayum they've been in my inbox forever and i feel bad about it!!

proofread the pretty boy @oneoftheextras

masterlist．．discord ．．playlist．．my ko-fi

vocab words for this : mais quelle anguille = what an eel.

Your fists struck against swollen, inert flesh, your red knuckles and dirt-caked fingernails mixing crusty blood and muck, curled tightly as you mechanically landed blow after blow.

The body beneath yours was still, an unrecognisable face below you, swollen and bloodied, red and blue blending unnaturally on youthful traits.

As your fist rose into the sky again, preparing to strike another blow, a huge hand engulfed your wrist like a handcuff and pulled you to your feet.

The bleachers roared out, their wood shaking and cracking as your fist was hoisted into the air.

Winner.

Your eyes stared at the ground for a moment before they reached the motionless figure you'd left behind. Vome came and crouched beside her, bringing his white sausage-like fingers to her neck for a pulse check, but you were carried out of the arena before he could deliver his verdict.

Fourteen found you, his tired features splitting his face and accompanying the few scars he had obtained. His eyes fell on your hands, gloved with blood that was drying unpleasantly on your skin.

He came over to you, his thin smile comforting, his voice low. He took your hand, not caring about getting dirty.

"Come," his voice was soft, contrasting with the shouts from the arena you could still hear a few seconds ago, "let's get you cleaned up."

He walked with you slowly, his hand keeping yours in a pleasant embrace like a comforter.

You reached the dormitory, its name not particularly associated with its appearance. In a dim light made up of candlelit crevices carved into the walls of a damp cave, thin floor mats eaten away by rats and other critters stretched down a low corridor.

The rock was dark, hard and crumble-free, water from your breaths and compressed air dripping down the sides of the stone that made it one of the small sources of water available.

A few others were sleeping there, their bodies emaciated from lack of food, their skin dull from lack of external light, their greasy, stringy hair sticking unpleasantly to their skin.

Fourteen led you to your futon and sat you down. You remained silent, your jaw clenched as if opening your mouth was going to spill something inside you that you couldn't afford to let go.

He went away for a moment, but you weren't worried. You simply bent your knees, hunched your back as you came to rest your head against your knees. It was unpleasant - your cheek hurt, one of the blows had hit your cheekbone, but you didn't care. You were tired from the effort your body had had to make, and you would almost have fallen asleep if your eyes and your mind could have allowed you to.

Fourteen returned, a small bowl filled with water in one hand, a rag that held a strange, dirty tint in the other.

"Let's see," he sighed as he sat cross-legged next to you and took one of your hands from the floor.

He dipped the cloth into the water, soaking it generously before your palm resided in his and he gently ran the cloth over the back of your hand.

The cloth was rough, coarse, scraping more than it softened. But it wasn't about comfort, it never had been. It was just a way of sleeping better at night, even if it was difficult.

Fourteen did the washing without ever pressing too hard, only trying to clean your fingers of blood and other dirt so that it didn't become uncomfortable, and probably because it was a human thing to do.

"You did well out there," he said as he dipped the cloth back into the bowl, the water tinting slightly in the little warm lights you could afford.

Well, you did well. Punching someone until they passed out while you were in the same situation as them was well.

Your cheek still resting on your knee, staring off into space and letting that rough caress cover your skin, you felt tired.

"Did I kill her?"

Your voice was cracked, like the sound of a turntable with a diamond on it, but where the song never started.

Fourteen stopped in his tracks, his eyes shifting from the damaged knuckles of your hand to your eyes. He took a deep breath before sighing, and you could feel the warm air hitting the raw flesh of your hand - but you didn't care.

"She's under care," he replied simply.

Between life and death, you concluded, and you were responsible.

Every night, you wondered if you'd been violent enough to make a profit the next day. You wondered if, perhaps, you had fed their appetites enough for them to offer you sustenance.

You didn't dare look at the others, wondering if one day you'd have to face one of them. You were terrified from this very thought.

Terrified of finding yourself in the state you'd put a fellow kid in. Terrified of taking a life. Terrified that one day you'd have to face Fourteen.

"Do you think this will stop one day?"

Your questions were so heavy in your mouth, so light in the air, lost in the dark uncertainty of the room.

"It will," Fourteen confirmed as he brought the cloth to press it to your cheekbone, "I promise.

You woke with a jolt, your body drenched in sweat while the room was still bathed in the darkness of the night.

Water.

You got up, the damp fabric of your bed sheet repulsing you as you made your way to the bathroom, gasping for air. Your body burned, your fingers swollen with heat as you turned the tap and vigorously scrubbed your hands under the coldest water you could get your hands on.

You turned off the tap, letting the sink fill up as your bewildered eyes caught your reflection in the mirror. You breathed hard, your pupils small and your hair a mess. Anger bubbled up inside you, boiling up your gullet.

Your face contorted in the air one last time as you turned off the tap when the sink was almost full to the brim. You plunged your whole head in, hands gripping the pale sides firmly as you let the coolness of the water engulf you.

A deep roar rose from your gut, crossing your throat and bursting under the silence of the water, the boiling bubbles of your frustration making it shake.

The water would cleanse you, purify you, hold the heaviness of your pain in its path and carry it away with it in silence, without anyone seeing or hearing a thing.

After that cry buried under the surface, as you drew in a breath, you choked on the water, mixing the salt of your tears with the chalky petricite aftertaste it contained. You pulled your head back, coughing violently, your face aching with frowns as beads of water more unpleasant than your sweat dripped onto your skin.

Clean. I need to be clean.

You threw off your pyjamas in a panic, tossing them carelessly on the mosaic floor as you climbed into the bath. Your legs were too weak to stay up in the shower, so you repeated the same thing you'd done at the sink.

The bath began to run, the initially cool water reaching your toes, doing nothing to calm your incessant trembling but helping the heat in your fingers.

The hot water arrived shortly afterwards, lukewarm as it mixed with the previous chill. After the freshness that had bathed your face, you were looking for insatiable warmth, water so hot that it would pasteurise everything in you and wipe the slate clean until you were neat and pure and flawless.

But you didn't offer yourself that torment. You had already suffered enough physical pain the day before and you weren't going to punish yourself any more, even if you wanted to.

It was just a mistake, an overreaction, you weren't going to do it again. Never, ever again.

You never wanted to commit this again anyway, it wasn't a desire, just a fiery response that you thought you'd buried deep in the cracks of your memory.

And all those eyes watching you, waiting in fear for your every move, a fear that had changed sides.

The water finally reached your chest, and you turned off the tap with your foot, sinking into the pleasant warmth that stopped the shaking.

Your hands gripped each of your shoulders firmly, holding you in place as if you were in danger of exploding into a multitude of shards of glass. You breathed in heavily, trying to calm yourself down.

You had to think of something else, find a way to anchor yourself, and you knew one that Selene had taught you. So you closed your eyes and recited in your head.

In a village, there is a house. It has yellow curtains, a red table and a blue sponge. What more can you tell me about it?

You breathed softly, trying to imagine its interior.

There are huge green enamel bowls, an orange sofa soaking up the afternoon sun with turquoise cushions. In the bathroom, there's a hot shower that's airing out the smell of shampoo and bubbles of foam on the walls.

The idea of being indoors again almost made you feel like suffocating though, so you changed your point of view.

This house has lots of windows and hardly any walls overlooking a garden. It has a small vegetable garden with tomato plants and basil, an arbour where wisteria grows in spring, and a deckchair where you can lie back and bask in the sun while reading a book. Butterflies flutter by during the day, fireflies light up the garden at night, and cicadas are always singing.

You felt your body relax, your heart less stressed as you sank into the bath until only your head emerged from the water and your ears were covered from reality.

When you come back into the house, pieces of crystal shimmer multicoloured lights on the walls as you pour lemonade into purple cups. Your lips pressed together, the memory of the coffee you shared the night before returning to your mind. Your heart began to beat again, your skin feeling warmer than the bath water.

You inevitably thought back to the look in his eyes, piercing yours with that dark glint that made your tummy feel so warm. Why did you feel that way? Why did his gaze on you mean so much to you? Why did you want more?

You sighed, your eyes opening on the bathroom ceiling. You turned slightly on your side, curling your legs up against you.

The warm bath water caressed your cheekbone, making you hiss. You'd taken very little care of your wounds yesterday. After your fight, you went straight to the hotel, never escaping the curious and worried glances of passers-by.

You changed quickly, cleaning your face and applying the compresses you always kept in your toiletry bag just in case before going out again.

You needed to walk, you needed to not be solicited, you needed to get your adrenalin down and get as far away as possible from anyone you knew.

What you'd just done had the terrible potential to get you into a lot of trouble. This behaviour was unworthy of the greatness of Piltover Academy, you were supposed to represent the splendour of your excellence, not deposit a reputation for violence and rudeness outside the white gates of the great city of Demacia.

What if the Academy expelled you for this disruptive behaviour? What if, after this trip, you could never set foot in the Academy again?

Not only did this problem linger in the back of your mind, but there was another worry on the rise. Fiora was heiress to one of the most powerful families in Demacia, and you dreaded the reaction her parents would have when she returned and they saw the state you had put her in.

You had attacked their daughter on their own territory with blows that could have sent her to her death, and you didn't know what would happen.

You hadn't returned from your walk until night had fallen and you were beginning to feel hungry.

You had taken an empty table in the hotel, the eyes of the students and other customers on you, but you had yours on your meal, which you ate quickly before going to bed.

And there you were, in your bath, remorse biting you harder than rust on metal.

You took your hands off your shoulders, letting the warmth of the bath cover your palms before bringing them up to your face, grunting slightly as your swollen skin ached.

You didn't want to go out today, you didn't want to have to go to class, you didn't want to have to meet the same faces and stares that had seen a side of you the day before that you wished was dead and buried.

But you had to face this world out there, face it despite all this, and move on.

When the bath water was cooler than hot, you got out. You ran your hand over the steamy surface of the mirror, tracing a horizontal V to reveal your reflection, tired but less erratic than before. You sighed, needing to take care of your bruises, the fresh marks on your body before they got any worse.

You wrapped yourself in a towel, tidying up your hair and wringing it out before leaving the bathroom.

The second bed was of course still empty. You'd probably have had something to worry about if Fiora had decided to sleep in there with you, and you dreaded the thought of having to wake up with a blade to your throat, or never seeing the light of day again.

You dressed simply, there were still about four days to spend in Demacia, and you weren't as enthusiastic about it as you'd been at first.

The subdued light in your room wasn't going to help you with your patch-up job, so you decided instead to put on a jumper paired with jogging pants before getting out of your room to have breakfast, if the hotel was even open.

To your surprise, the staff were already busy in the kitchen, and the buffet table was filling up by the minute with pastries, breads and spreads, all different and appetising.

You took whatever appealed to you most, revelling in the knowledge that you didn't have to pay for anything during your stay. So you took a seat on a bench in a corner, near a window overlooking the city still bathed in the blue of the night.

You relished the silence, the blue glasses that calmed everything, the solitude. You regained a little of your peacefulness, fighting whatever was in you not to stuff your plate on the spot out of bad habit.

When you brought your cup to your lips, your mind inescapably went back to yesterday's scene. Could you get that memory out of your mind and off your lips? Or would you be doomed to replay it over and over again?

Did you really want to put it out of your mind, or did the novelty of it frighten you, despite your growing desire to hold on to it and ask for more?

Your lips kissed the rim of your cup in search of a trace he'd left in your mind, wishing you could find it again and again, to have his eyes burning like two suns letting your heart tan.

This thought evaporated, however, when Garen entered the hotel restaurant. He was wearing jogging bottoms, a hooded sweatshirt with the zip open over a white t-shirt.

He didn't fail to notice you, and with good reason - you were the only person in the room. He exchanged a glance with you before approaching, your gaze returning to the table.

A small knot formed in your throat, and you grabbed your cup to bring it to your lips and hope to drown the sensation.

He sat down opposite you, forearm on the table as he watched you. He sat in silence for a long moment, the two of you staying like that for a bit until he broke the silence.

"Wanna talk about it?"

You chuckled, regretting the way your mouth stretched into a smile as the wound on your lower lip reopened and you drowned it in coffee.

"About the way I almost punched your friend to death yesterday?" you questioned as your tired eyes met his. "That's a thorny conversation subject for such a calm morning."

He shrugged, crossing his arms on the white tablecloth. "I was going to ask more about the reason why you're up so early."

"Is waking up early illegal in Demacia?"

His eyes found the street, empty except for the few passers-by heading to work early. "I don't know many people who get up early without any particular activity for pure pleasure."

You looked at him for a moment. "Is that why you're up early?"

His eyes met yours again. "Among other things."

There was silence once more. But there was no pressure, no expectation that you'd say anything, just the silence of company.

Both your hands were around your cup, your thumb tracing where your lip had been.

"I..." you began tentatively. "I feel terrible." You admitted the words without looking away from your cup. "I didn't exactly have the most..." you inhaled heavily, "loving upbringing, and-" you shrugged, "I should never have fought with her. I feel like I regressed to an animal state in two seconds, like I couldn't control myself when I should have."

"You were angry," he said simply, "it's normal to lose your temper."

You sighed. "It was an overreaction."

"And she's the one who pushed you over the edge," Garen remarked, "and brought out a legitimate anger that seemed to have been buried inside you for a long, long time." He leaned slightly towards you, his eyes on you even though you didn't dare meet them yet. "She revealed personal information to everyone that you probably didn't want to divulge, and she did it in order to humiliate you. Not to mention the fact that she started spreading rumours to discredit you."

Just thinking about it made your muscles itch like nettles as you remembered your kneeling position in front of her, her pretentiousness.

"I wish I didn't have to get rid of that anger like that."

"Better out than in," Garen said.

You were finally meeting his eyes. "I'm not sure that getting rid of this violence in this way is the solution."

"Well, that I concede," he confirmed. "But I don't think it's such an overreaction. You both had your reasons. The parameters of your upbringing came into play, as did hers. She had her honour to save."

"But I had nothing to save, I did it out of anger and because I could."

"And anyone in your place could very well have done the same."

"You literally had to pull me off her," you sighed, "who knows how far it might have gone."

"But that's as far as it went, thankfully," he smiled at you. "You can't get stuck in this eternal 'what if' mentality if it's holding you back."

There was truth in his words, and you couldn't deny it. The guilt of having let yourself get carried away gripped you, but you tried to lighten the balance by thinking back to what he was saying.

Fiora had come looking for you herself after all, asking - no, ordering a fight with you and pushing you into it until you gave her what she had wanted. But what about the consequences?

Your eyes found your reflection in the coffee of your cup.

"My friends saw me," you began tentatively. "I'm scared that-" your throat knotted slightly and you cleared it, hoping to chase away the sorrow that was trying to spread through it, "that they'll see me differently, that in their eyes I'll be just that and nothing else."

"Viktor and Jayce, right?" he checked.

You nodded, your hand gripping the handle of your mug a little tighter as the terrible thought crossed your mind for a moment that Sky might have seen this.

"They came to see me after the incident," he revealed, "they seemed more concerned about your condition than Fiora's."

A warm stone dropped into your stomach. Worried? Jayce, you might have expected it, but the shock that flooded Viktor's face made you think it would be impossible for him to feel anything other than incomprehension.

"Don't lie to me to try and cheer me up," you chuckled nervously.

"Me? Lie?" he smiled. "Do you really think my Demacian soul spends all its time making up charades and lies just to flatter your ego?"

You relaxed your shoulders. "Got a point."

"I was with Viktor last night," he continued. "I gather he's not really the chatty type, we've barely spoken since we arrived, but last night he seemed more worried, a bit more talkative."

"Viktor? Worried and chatty? Are you sure we're talking about the same person?’

"He was asking me questions, wondering if I'd seen you later in the day, if I'd managed to find you."

"Found me?" you repeated.

"After you left, I looked for you a bit," he admitted. "But I soon realised that company probably wasn't what you were looking for, so I decided to wait. I was just going to go looking for you again if you didn't come back by nightfall."

"I didn't know you had tracking skills," your lips pressed into an inverted smile.

"I'm not fond of letting someone venture out at night into a city they barely know," he pointed out, a sneer stretching one of his lips to the side, "so yes, any means would be good to find you."

"Even a young woman who knows her way around a punch?" you questioned.

He tilted his head to one side. "If someone came across you with a staff or another sword, I've got enough memories of yesterday's little session to give me an idea of how you'd cope."

You chuckled, finishing the rest of your coffee and avoiding scratching your chin where the tip of his quarterstaff had resided. "I can never do anything right, can I?"

"I'm sure you're not too bad at jogging," he rose from his bench, taking your plate and cutlery in hand, "what do you say?"

"You want me to go jogging, with you?" you questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

"Tell me if you see anybody else in this room apart from the two of us," he said before leaving to clear away your things.

You stood up, taking your cup in hand and following him. "Maybe you were asking a magical third individual in the streets."

“So that's a no?” he questioned, turning to you once the silverware had been put down.

"That's a 'I don't jog often, so please be kind as I'll try to keep up with you'," you replied, setting your mug down with the rest of your finished meal.

He chuckled. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

And you did, partly.

He took you outside and started jogging with you. You didn't really have the time or the inclination to go jogging in the mornings in Piltover, especially these days when you'd been working yourself to death.

But running in a setting you'd only recently discovered wasn't so bad. Like Piltover and many other towns, Demacia had a different atmosphere at night and during the day.

Garen took you around his usual route, showing you places that were not shown to tourists but were well worth a visit. From florists who had just opened their shops and were perfuming the air, to restaurants serving the previous day's leftovers and soups for stray cats and dogs, to little fountains hidden in the middle of cobbled courtyards from whose springs you drank.

You found it hard to keep up sometimes, but Garen was patient, letting you take as many breaks as you needed. He found himself teasing you. "I thought you could keep up."

"I don't do this every morning like you," you breathed, recovering from one of your side stitches as you resumed your pace.

He laughed, and so did you, gradually waking up the city with your mutual runs. There was something liberating about it, because for once in your life you weren't running to get away but to move forward. You were letting go of your tensions, freeing yourself from the weight of worries for which you were only partly to blame.

The ivory streets were bathed in the warm orange sunlight as you made your way back to the hotel. You almost regretted having taken a bath already, feeling guilty for using the hotel water. But the bill wasn't on you, and knowing you'd have the chance to shower again when you got home made you feel better.

"Take your shower," he breathed as you both reached your respective doors, "I'm gonna take a look at your cheek afterwards."

You almost forgot about the bruises spreading across your face. Fiora hadn't hit you too hard - not as hard as you - but it was still enough to leave marks and nail cuts on your skin.

"I can take care of it," you confirmed.

"Judging by the way you treat them, I doubt it," Garen laughed before knocking on the door to enter.

Viktor was probably still asleep, it was early, but Garen still had the decency to knock just in case.

You went back to your room, not having to worry about that matter from lack of roommate. You took off your sweaty clothes, and hoped very much that a washing machine would be put in order during the week. You had brought enough spare clothes just in case, but you could never be sure.

After your shower was over, you opened the door to your bedroom so that Garen could come in as soon as he was finished without worrying about knocking. His hair still dripping with water, he stepped out of his room.

It didn't seem to be plunged into darkness, and you deduced that Viktor was probably already awake.

Garen came in with a first aid kit, and you couldn't help but giggle.

"You carry that around in your luggage all the time?"

He smiled before sitting down on your bed with you. ‘You never know the kind of trouble you might get into along the way. Besides, I train almost every morning. If you only knew the blows Fiora can land with those damned training swords of hers."

You smiled as you listened to him open his kit and look for compresses and disinfectant. "I will lend you some of this for you to properly take care of this, this way you can do this yourself if it ever happens again on the trip, which hopefully, won't."

He took out some objects and placed them on your bed while he went looking for what was needed, a small pot with a golden lid intriguing you.

"What's this?" you asked, pointing at it.

His eyes drifted over the object, taking it in his hand and bringing it up to his head like a medal.

"This is the miracle balm," he began before holding it out to you, "it has saved me many times."

You took it in your palm, turning it between your fingers to observe it before uncorking it. It was a dark ointment, and you brought it to your nose. The smell was strong, and you put it away immediately. You recognised the scent, certain fresh, strong notes taking you far back in time.

"For knots under the skin, tired muscles, and other aches and pains - it's my saviour," Garen explained as he prepared a cotton ball, soaking it in alcohol. "C'mere."

You moved a little closer to him, your cross-legged knees almost touching his thigh. He brought his index finger under your chin, gently guiding your head to the side to get a better view of the damage left on your face.

You could see his eyebrows furrow in your peripheral vision, the thumb of his free hand coming to rest on the swollen skin of your cheek and pressing lightly.

You hissed, the pain spreading down the side of your face.

"Sorry," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your swollen skin gently like a silent apology, "I was going to ask if it hurts but I guess I have my answer."

He pressed the cotton ball between his fingers, bringing it gently to your cheekbone. Your eye near the wounds crinkled under the tingle. It was unpleasant, but not painful. He barely pressed the cotton against your skin, taking care that, despite his imposing musculature, he didn't let it define him in every way and thus reduce his gentleness to nothing.

"Where did you get it, the balm?" you questioned, your eyes resting on a point in the void while his remained riveted on your cheek.

"We have enough shops stocked with balms and other herbal elixirs here that the majority of Demacia's athletes all have one pot of it. I'll take you there on a market visit, which shouldn't be long now."

"There's one scheduled for this very afternoon," you confirmed as he changed his focus to your face, moving up to your temple.

"Well then," he smiled, taking a second cotton ball to soak, "I'll take you there."

His index finger still under your chin pulled you back to face him, his eyes settling on your lips.

You had a nasty cut, probably from an accidental bite during the fight or a scratch from Fiora. Either way, it wasn't pleasant.

"That might sting a bit more," he warned as he pressed the cotton against your lip.

The previously forgettable tingle was now impossible to ignore and searing. You recoiled at the sensation, but Garen's index finger under your chin was joined by his thumb to hold you in place firmly, preventing you from any escape.

"It'll be over soon," he promised, repeatedly pressing the cotton against your skin.

You clenched your fists, your eyes drifting to the corridor you could see from your bed. A figure stood there, your heart dropping into your stomach as the pain of the alcohol was quickly forgotten.

Viktor.

There, standing impassively still, he watched the scene. Your eyes met his and you felt very small.

His eyebrows were furrowed, as if he hadn't had much sleep the night before, and his dark circles seemed to bring out the amber in his eyes. You couldn't make out his expression, but it was definitely one of frustration.

You lowered your eyes slightly as Garen removed the cotton wool from your lip, not feeling up to meeting his gaze. The weight of it seemed heavy, but you couldn't work out why. He must have been angry, or perhaps disappointed? Or even disgusted, by you.

"Oh, Viktor," Garen greeted as he began to put his things away naturally, "have you taken your breakfast yet?"

You looked up at him, hoping your eyes wouldn't cloud over with tears as all your shame rose in your throat. He parted his lips, and you wondered what he was about to say or answer. The whole tone of his voice would show where your friendship lay, and your heart was pounding just at the terrible expectation he was imposing on you.

"Come on, come on! Let's all gather together please," you heard Heimerdinger say in the distance, “I'm going to announce today's programme.”

You held your breath as Garen stood up: "Let's get going before there's no breakfast to eat anymore, I'm starving."

And so Garen took Viktor with him, and your breath caught and released as you inhaled violently.

The idea of Viktor hating you before was not a problem. You could have gone for days without worrying about it. Now it was a waking nightmare that was haunting you terribly.

You reached over and closed the door for a moment, taking advantage of this small moment to take your Tarot deck from your suitcase and draw a card for the day, hoping that it would help you.

And so the Eight of Wands fell.

Intentions are sent. Energy is in motion. Intentions are powerful and this card is an illustration of action in motion.

Although you were hoping for quick answers, you felt stressed, but continued your rapid reading of the booklet.

What's done can't be undone. The send button has been pressed and the letter has been sent. The spell is cast. The words and incantations have been spoken. Although you cannot undo what is done, you can pause, wait and see what the ramifications are. The energy is strong and effective. Let the universe work its magic. Do not try to control what has been sent. The situation is beyond your control for now. Be patient and you'll get results.

So you were asked... to wait? To be patient and see what would come your way? Of all the answers you could have hoped for, this was probably the last one on your list.

Heimerdinger had explained how the afternoon would unfold. First of all, you would visit one of Demacia's great museums, to learn about their art and history. Of course, you would have to fill in a form with all sorts of information and return it at the end of the day. After this little excursion, you could wander freely around Demacia.

Thus, you found yourself in one of the long corridors with its glass ceiling of the great Demacian museum. The students' shoes echoed against the black and white chequered floor as Heimerdinger gave a final reminder of the instructions.

You stood slightly back, watching a few statues and trying not to drift your gaze to the back of Viktor's head incessantly. What's he thinking?

You were at least hoping that the card would be right, that your answers would come quickly, that the wait would be short, and that the revelation wouldn't destroy you. And if Viktor decided to cut you off, what would you do?

How would you recover from the loss? You didn't have a very wide circle of friends, and this event could prove to be the end of all friendships with Viktor, Jayce and Sky.

Would Sky refuse to be your flatmate from now on? Would she move out because she couldn't spend another moment in the same room as you? Would Jayce stop coming to the café and shower you with his enthusiasm?

Your life would return to a profound emptiness, and you didn't know if you were capable of returning to it so abruptly. Of course, you still had Eris, but you saw her too little.

When had you started to feel comfortable with the idea of having friends like that? When did you allow yourself to trust them? to like them?

Heimerdinger finished his speech, and the students dispersed, as did you. You needed to get away from it all for a while, to try and take your mind off things by doing the only thing you knew how to do well: work.

You played nervously with your pencil, tapping its eraser against the few sheets you had to fill in, while your eyes absent-mindedly studied a white stone statue of yet another legendary fighter whose name meant little to you.

You were immersed in your thoughts, in the multiple possibilities that rushed into your mind to take the microphone and shout out their merits.

"I didn't see you yesterday during our afternoon lesson."

You lowered your eyes to your right, Heimerdinger standing up straight as he watched the statue by your side.

You sighed, turning in front of the latter's sign to jot it down in a corner of your paper. "Good morning to you too, Professor."

"I assume your absence was due to the incident that took place yesterday's morning?" he asked, and you sensed in your peripheral vision that he was looking towards you.

You turned to face him, his eyes widening slightly at the extent of the damage before you spoke. "I wonder what brought you to this conclusion."

You couldn't help using sarcasm, no doubt to play down the situation, and perhaps to try and put some distance between you and the freshness of these events. He seemed to watch you for a moment, his curious little eyes observing the tint the blows had left on your cheek.

"My my, quite an imposing mark. I didn't know you were so, um," he pouted thoughtfully, one of his hands rising into the air to make circular motions as if he were shuffling a keyring of words he was looking for the right key to, 'energetic'.”

You chuckled slightly, lowering your eyes to your paper. "I hope this excess of energy won't get me into any troubles regarding the Academy."

You suspected that this conversation was primarily about that, and although you tried not to let it go negative, you couldn't help the nagging anxiety in your stomach.

"To the Academy?" repeated Heimerdinger, as if surprised by the idea. "No, you have actually made more of a significantly positive impression."

Your shoulders settled between anxiety and relief, frowning as you looked back up at him. "Positive?"

"From what the students have been nattering about, and what has been brought back to me, it seems that you slightly altered the Piltover Academy popularity towards the Demacian through a performance that has tipped the scale on our side," he explained as his index finger and thumb pinched the air. "They were surprised anyone from our little group could keep up in any affray against such trained students." He chirped as he rocked for a moment on his heels, his arms linking behind his back. "I have to say that I myself am quite impressed."

You felt very light, as if a vulture that had hitherto pressed its talons on your shoulders had just flown away out of disinterest in the prey that you were. So you were being watched not as a monster but as... a champion?

You were having trouble digesting the information. Had you become so obsessed with the harm you had caused that you locked yourself into an mentality in which you were only at fault?

Did your friends feel the same way? Did Jayce, Sky and Viktor think the same as Heimerdinger?

"Impressed?" you repeated, as if to check that it wasn't a joke. "By what I did?"

"Absolutely," the yorddle nodded. "Now, I wasn't present and I would probably not have been in the opportunity had risen as I am not much of an advocate for the sweat of physical conflict, but I have to confess that through this opposition, you have brought a certain honour to the Academy." He turned to you, giving you a proud smile. "Well done!"

Were you dreaming? It must have been, wasn't it? But you'd never had such a beautiful dream, and given what had happened you weren't expecting to for a long time.

You blinked a few times, trying to digest this information. You weren't going to be expelled, or punished for what you'd done, and you were learning that some students might even have some respect for you as a result?

"I..." you searched for your words, the keychain of words passing in turn without your nervous fingers being able to find the perfect key. So you settled on a passe-partout that sincerely reflected your thoughts. "Thank you."

"No need for any gratitude," informed Heimerdinger, shaking his head, "all I ask is that I hope to see you in class. The taste of glory is exquisite, but I do not wish it to replace your diligence."

You nodded quickly. "Of course, Professor."

"Well," he smiled, "I'll leave you to your work from now on. I haven't finished exploring the immensity of this place yet."

And with that, he left, and you blew all the air out of your lungs, placing your hand on your chest then. You couldn't believe it, all the worries you'd imagined were crumbling away from your skin like dirt being washed away.

A nervous chuckle went up your throat and you smothered it with your palm over your lips, wincing slightly as the cut on it opened slightly and stung.

You had to pull yourself together. Sure, you'd escaped one problem, but another still remained - your friends. Should you go and find them and talk to them? Or would they come on their own?

You'd only had to move to another showroom to meet Sky and Jayce's eyes, your flatmate's face lighting up with shock as she ran to you and hugged you tightly, and you returned the embrace. Your whole body relaxed, and if you weren't in public you'd probably have been crying.

"You scared the hell out of me," you managed to decipher as her head was buried in your shoulder before she suddenly straightened up and cupped your face, watching your wounds with a frown. "What a viper."

"You should see her," you grinned, the tingle on your lip no longer mattering to you.

"I have seen her," Sky assured you, raising her eyebrows and smiling, "Jayce and Viktor told me everything."

"Oh yeah?" you questioned as your gaze drifted to Jayce who was coming towards you. His face was a mixture of joy and concern, and it hurt to see him like that.

"Mhm!" confirmed Sky as Jayce finally came towards you. "That she kept testing you until you agreed to a fight and brought her back to her place," she turned to him, "they kept saying you looked really, really cool."

Jayce nodded beside her, seeming to restrain himself from saying or doing anything.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, was he scared of you?

"No Jayce hug?" you tried, teasing him.

He huffed, pained like a puppy waiting for a treat. "I don't want to hurt you by squeezing too tight. You already got wounds, I don't want to make it worse.’

Despite his imposing stature, you had always noticed how Jayce seemed to deliberately try to appear small or less imposing. Whether it was putting his shoulders backwards when his hands were behind his back, or crossing them when he was thinking, he always tried not to spread himself and to appear less big than he actually was.

You smiled softly. "I don't care."

He sighed in relief, pulling you into a hug and it felt so soothing. His big arms encircled you in a way that promised you everything would be okay no matter what, and that he'd always be there whatever happened.

"Vik's been wanting to talk to you," he whispered, so that only you could hear him.

The news made your cheeks flush with warmth, your heart pounding in your chest as you patted his back gently and he straightened up away from you.

"I didn't know you were into boxing," Jayce remarked deeply intrigued and back to his usual curiosity, "why did you never tell us that?"

You shrugged. "I didn't see a reason to."

"Do you know how expensive boxing classes are in Piltover?" quipped Jayce. "I had tried it once but never came back to it just because of the price."

He nodded, and a small silence settled between the three of you. There were so many things left unsaid, so many desires to talk that you couldn't quite grasp and start.

"Why didn't you come to us?" questioned Sky at last, breaking the silence. "We were worried.’

You sighed softly, lowering your eyes. You'd left them in the dark, deliberately distancing yourself from them by assuming ideas that could have been avoided by discussing it with them and setting the record straight.

"I..." you clutched your pen in your hand, trying your hardest not to let your voice crack, "I thought you guys wouldn't want to associate with someone that did that. So... yeah. I'm sorry."

Sky and Jayce's eyes softened, and your shame and guilt at having walked away from them weighed in your stomach heavier than ever.

"You're going to have to try harder than that if you want to get rid of us," Sky smiled, putting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

You smiled back. Every misfortune that had haunted you over the last twenty-four hours was being resolved one by one, naturally, and now there was only one person left to balance it all.

"Have you done the part on the origin of the magical wars yet?" questioned Jayce as if nothing had happened, pointing to your index card. "You definitely have to check it out," he pulled out his map of the museum, pointing to the few rooms that contained the exhibition in question, "it's over there."

The message was simple: you'll find him there.

"Good,’ you nodded, "I'll catch up with you guys later."

The three of you then confirmed that you would meet up after the visit so that you could explore the Demacian markets together, and you set off in the direction of the indicated exhibition.

Your heart was pounding. Your anxiety was gradually diluted and replaced by immense relief. Did Viktor share their opinions too? What would his reaction be? You dreaded it as much as you longed for it.

When had he become such a central part of your life? And why did you feel so affected by every move and idea he might have had about you?

You reached the area in question, completely empty. Given the Demacians' disdain for the origin of magic and their bitterness towards it, you weren't much surprised.

It was a large room with an open side from which you had just come, each of its corners seeming to shelter small rooms with narrower entrances acting as mini corridors of separation. You tried to walk along the left-hand wall and into the corridor leading to the first room. When you reached the end of the small hallway, you froze as a voice you recognised approached.

"Vikkie?" Fiora was calling.

You turned, fearing that she might see you, and took a few steps back.

You stifled a small scream as what appeared to be a thin, curved bar pressed against your stomach and pulled you back and then to the side as a hand took hold of your arm. Your back met the wall and your breath caught as Viktor's eyes met yours and he pressed his index finger to his own lips to urge you to remain silent, the knob of his cane hovering near your waist as his hand gripped your hip.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest as the sudden stress faded from your tense muscles and another feeling took over. The two of you were close, Viktor cocking his head and leaving you to watch the angle of his jaw as he waited for the area to be cleared of her presence.

The warmth of his hand on your hip cut through the fabric of your clothes, and you found yourself wanting to press yourself against it.

What was this sensation? Why did this position make you feel all warm and fuzzy in your stomach? Why was your heart pounding in your chest now that the stress was over?

In the distance, you could hear Fiora sigh. "Mais quelle anguille," she sighed in her native tongue as the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance and Viktor let out his held breath.

He pressed his forehead to the wall against which you were standing, his lips to the level of your ear. "Hit her in the jaw next time, Miss," the nickname mixed with his low voice made your cheeks flush. "This way maybe I can escape her constant need for useless conversation."

You couldn't help laughing. "I'll note that for next time, Vikkie."

You felt him squeeze his hand lightly on your hip as he gave you a sound that was a mixture of grumble, sigh and laugh before straightening up.

His amber eyes found yours, and your heart leapt. You hoped it would calm down, but it seemed to you at the time that this was profoundly impossible.

"For once I would rather you call me any witty nickname you could have than this," he smiled.

"Mm," you seemed to be falsely thinking about it without taking your eyes off him, "I'll consider thinking about it."

He smiled, his eyes drifting from yours to rest on your cheekbone and your cheek before finishing on your lips.

You swallowed silently as his eyes rested on it in a strange way.

‘Does it hurt...?’ he asked, his eyes finally returning to yours, a dark light flashing through his gaze.

You shook your head. "No."

He nodded gently. "Good."

His eyes, which this morning had been stern, were now more tender. He seemed to become aware of your closeness, his glance settling on his hand still on your waist.

He took a step back, and his absence from you and his hand on your hip disheartened you more than you thought it would.

"Sorry for this measure," he said, tapping two fingers on his cane, "I had to make sure she wouldn't see either of us nor hear anything."

A warmth spread across the back of your neck at the memory of how he'd grabbed you and pulled you towards him, and you tried to shake away the thought. "It's okay," you reassured, "I was actually looking for you, too."

"And you were first at it, once again," he smiled, nodding. "I'm glad it's you that found me before her."

"I agree," you confirmed with a thin smile.

A moment of hesitation passed, an additional silence of expectation that twisted your throat as you searched for your words. You didn't sense any judgement on his part, or that he wanted to press you for answers.

"I..." you began, inhaling, shifting your gaze from his to one of the few paintings on the walls of the small room, "I'm sorry, that you had to see me this way. ”Your eyes returned to his. "I don't know how I must have looked to you and," you breathed, "I regret it."

He gazed at you for a moment, frowning as his eyes returned to where Fiora knuckles had had the misfortune to meet your face.

"Why are you apologising?" he asked.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. "You're not mad at me?"

"Mad?" he chuckled, one corner of his lips rising a little higher than the other and raising his mole. "No, I don't think mad would be the term. Surprise, more like it."

"That I almost sent this girl to the hospital?"

"That despite all I seem to learn about you, I still want to know more."

A warmth spread through your chest.

He persisted, despite everything. He'd seen the vilest, most unbearable and stubborn parts of you, he'd seen you fight, and yet he stayed.

"Are you sure?" you asked. "I think I may have broken the second clause about helping each other and the sixth about honesty through this."

He looked surprised that you remembered so perfectly of the clauses' number, but he just shrugged. "If it is about telling me everything on your reasons for your reaction, I'm not hurried." He tilted his head to the side, his eyes on you. "I am patient, I can wait."

What had you done to deserve this? So much understanding, support and solidarity? You weren't used to it.

You considered telling him, about your past, about everything right here and there, but a thought occurred to you. If Fiora knew all the things she'd told you about your past, it was probably through him. You hesitated to ask him, parting your lips to inquire.

"And right here, in this very room, the birth of magical conflict," exclaimed the voice of a guide leading a group of tourists into the great hall.

You sighed, the little peace you had with Viktor vanishing into thin air.

"I guess we'll have to continue this conversation another time, Miss," he confirmed, "for the moment, we need to finish this damned file."

You returned to your little group like nothing had ever happened, filling in the answer boxes provided by Heimerdinger one by one. And when the visit was over, everyone returned to the hotel to get ready to visit the market.

Viktor left you all to take a nap, all that walking had made him tired. Garen, not wishing to intrude on this time of emotional reunion with your friends, provided you with a list of addresses and names of shops that might interest you.

And so Jayce, Sky and yourself wandered through the eccentric markets of Demacia. From wacky plant shops to armouries, you kept stopping and gawking. Colours and smells were all mingling together in this odd symphony that somehow wasn't too overwhelming

Each street was an exciting new discovery full of new things to uncover. You followed some of the names of the shops Garen had given you, taking the opportunity to get hold of his famous balm.

There was something strangely comforting about it, something familiar, and it made you feel good to have it close to you.

After a delicious snack of Demacian pastries and further visits to the length and breadth of the market, the three of you returned to the hotel with small bags of souvenirs and tired legs.

The aches and pains from jogging and the physical effort of the previous day's battle were beginning to take their toll, and you couldn't wait to go home and get some rest.

When you inserted the key to your room to enter, however, you found it already open. You frowned, pushing the door open and freezing as Fiora stood in the room.

She turned towards you, and you could see the rest of the damage you had caused. She probably had a doctor attached to her family, and they'd really helped her out. She had a bandage on her nose, her cheeks and cheekbones had deflated, but despite the ice cubes she'd had to put on her skin to soften them, there were still some purplish marks.

My marks, you thought, I made them, but I'm not proud of them.

Her eyes rested on you, annoyed. She looked around the room for a moment.

"Not too bad for a bedroom," she nodded, "too bad it's for two."

You sighed. She didn't seem to want to budge from her attitude, and you weren't going to play her game. You walked over to your bed, putting your shopping bag on the side of it.

"Why are you here, Fiora?" you asked simply, crossing your arms.

You preferred to get to the heart of the matter, beating around the bush was pointless and this day had shown you that perfectly.

She sighed heavily, walking up to your level and stopping at a respectable distance.

She put her weight on one of her hips, crossing her arms in turn. "I came here to apologise."

You frowned, doubting the veracity of this gesture. "Did Garen pay you to do this?"

"Pfft," she chuckled, "I wish I had been paid to do this."

"Did Madame Diane ask you to come here then?" you continued.

"Nope," she replied, emphasising the end of the word.

Had she really come to apologise of her own free will? It was almost doubtful.

"So why are you coming here to apologise?"

She sighed, her eyes drifting over her nails resting on her biceps. "I guess I feel, well, guilty."

She said the words as if she had to get rid of them, and you could feel the frustration building.

"How old are you?" you suddenly asked.

She seemed confused by the question, arching an eyebrow. "... Twenty four?"

“You're twenty four, you know what a word means, so what the hell took you?”

"I know, okay?" she grunted before taking a breath to calm herself. "Let's not start arguing, I didn't come here to nudge you to fight, just to get a conversation."

You straightened up, chewing the inside of your cheek to steady yourself. She was at least taking the first step towards remaining diplomatic, and you couldn't take that away from her, it was a good way of going about things.

You pointed your chin at her for a moment. "Why did I become your target?" you questioned. ‘You've been trying to set me aside since day one."

"No I have not," she said, frowning as her accent sounded stupid to you.

"You literally called me a rag."

"That's just because your sense of fashion is terrible," she explained, shrugging.

"See? You're doing it again," you remarked, unclasping your arms.

She sighed. "Well I guess if you had better clothes I wouldn't have said it ."

You chuckled. "This is a weird apology."

"Are you taking it or not?" Her tongue clicked against her teeth like a tired whip.

"I'll take it once I know why you wanted to put me aside."

"Because your friend Viktor is cute," she replied, shaking her head as an obvious smile spread across her lips, though it faded as her eyes rolled back into their sockets, "but the more I speak to him the more boring he gets."

You recoiled. "So you spat on me... because of a guy?"

"Not just any guy," she giggled, "he has the attitude of a prince."

Yes, he does, you thought. You remembered how he looked at the masquerade, all dressed in rich velvet and dark fabrics lined with goldened jewelry. And his coat, which you had the opportunity to wear, you couldn't forget it, couldn't forget his smell that had covered you while you walked your way back home. He had the chivalrous attitude of the Knight of Pentacles, and you couldn't deny that the role suited him perfectly.

Your eyes drifted off into space just thinking about it. "I guess you could say that."

"What do you mean “I guess”?" questioned Fiora, almost outraged.

Your cheeks heated as you tried to get back to normal, to pull yourself together and not think about it any more than that.

"Yeah I mean, I guess you're right?"

"Wait," she frowned, her head turning slightly to the side as her eyes squinted at you, "do you have something for him?"

The back of your neck caught fire, your eyes widening as your first instinct was to deny.

"What?" you laughed. "No."

She brought her hand up to her mouth to cover it for a moment as she looked at you with huge eyes, murmuring her words in disbelief. "You have a crush on him."

"This is nonsense," you cleared your throat as you remembered the pressure of his hand against your hip, bringing your own palm to the spot to regain your balance, "of course I don't."

"So that's why you were pissed about the fact I was so close to him," Fiora continued realising to herself.

"Absolutely not!" you countered.

She started walking towards the door though. "So if I go in the other room and tell him you don't have a crush on him you won't have any problem with it-"

But you hadn't given her time to reach the handle, standing in front of the door and blocking it with your hand and entire body. You reacted instinctively to this, but why?

"Don't," you whispered, "I don't have feelings for him."

She smiled at you for a moment, looking at you like you were the most ridiculous little thing she had ever seen in her life. "Then why are you reacting this way?’

You were asking yourself the same question on this very moment. Why did you start looking for him in every room? Why did you want his attention? Why did your body and your thoughts react this way when you found yourself near him?

"He's my friend," you mumbled, "I... respect him."

She giggled. "And you think that you loving him would be a form of disrespect to him?"

The truth of that sentence terrified you: could you honour him? Would having feelings for him be ridiculous considering how you were not worthy of deserving him?

"No, I told you I-"

"Fine!" Fiora's arms flew up in the air. "Gosh, you're stubborn."

You straightened up, looking at her for a moment as she exchanged a glance with you.

"So," she continued, "we bury the hatchet?"

You considered her for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons. There were still four days to spend here, so you might as well spend them amicably. What's more, you weren't looking for a quarrel, so there was no reason to refuse this offer especially if it came from her.

"Alright," you nodded.

She followed your movement. "You fight pretty good by the way," she admitted, "I didn't think someone could hit that hard when looking like you."

You chuckled. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," she shrugged and nodded, "I thought you'd punch like a kid."

"And I thought you'd fight back better," you confirmed, "looks like we both got disappointed."

"If you hadn't taken such unrefined weaponry as your choice, maybe I would have been able to show you what an actual duel is like," she pointed out.

"I don't need weapons, and I didn't want to fight," you sighed.

"Why not?"

You shrugged as you moved forward to sit on your bed, fatigue gripping your limbs tightly. "Because I didn't need to."

"What is it with you Pilties," Fiora questioned, "you're boring."

"You're the bored girl trying to get everything because no one ever told you no," you remarked.

A muscle tightened near her eye, as it had before the duel you'd had had yesterday and things turned sour, and you noticed that it was perhaps time for Fiora to give you a better excuse than an attraction to a man to justify her actions towards you.

“It destabilizes you, doesn't it?” You planted your hands on either side of you, leaning back slightly. “That a stranger, coming onto your ground, destroys that reality you’ve built up for yourself brick by brick without being able to do anything about it.”

She shifted her weight on her leg as she listened to you, and you knew you'd hit the nail on the head - because you'd been through this same exact situation only a few months ago.

“Well I'm going to tell you something. Simple, clear, which will hopefully be instantly integrated in that brain of yours,” you stared into her eyes. “People don't owe you anything.”

Fiora looked at you, her lips slightly parted.

“I don't owe you my politeness, I don't owe you my knee to be bowed at your coronation, and above all, I don't owe you my respect.”

A small silence settled in the air, until Fiora chuckled and smiled.

“I like you better than I thought I would.”

You straightened up, confused. You expected her to engage in another verbal joust, to send you back what you had just offered her, or to leave by slamming the door, but not to this.

“You do?”

She approached the foot of your bed. “Do you know how many people ever told me what you just told me, Piltie girl?”

You shook your head, obviously not knowing the answer. She said nothing at the moment, simply raised her index finger in the air.

"One," she indicated as she lowered her perfectly manicured fingernail to point to you.

“Garen never told you that?” you questioned, finding it hard to believe that he didn't do the same.

She rolled her eyes. “He doesn't count. But anyway," she inhaled, "you're right. My honor was on the line of a blade I wanted to force to my will.” Her arms crossed over her chest again. “I don't want my reputation to hold on to the pillars of my family name, which has led me to...” her eyes passed over your bruises, “go low.”

“Exposing my personal information for everyone outside and trying to humiliate me is-”

“Yes I know!" Fiora cut off, annoyed. “I was scared, okay? You came here and the idea of having a stupid Piltie to show around all week wasn't the greatest for an ideal trip.”

Her truth was beginning to come out, and you were listening to her as she had listened to you. She inhaled, trying not to let herself be overwhelmed by her emotions.

“But then you held up to me, and I thought I could feel everything crack and... I went too far. So," her eyes wore their sincerity, "I'm sorry, really.”

You understood her. You knew exactly how she could feel, and you weren't about to put her down about it.

“I went too far too,“ you admitted, "sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?"questioned Fiora. “I pushed you to do this.”

“I made your face redder than your hair streaks with my fists and you wonder why I'm apologizing?”

She shook her head, and you both sighed. And to say that all this could have been avoided if your egos had been put aside.

“At least” she resumed, pouting, "now I'm matching with my hair, that's twice more fashion style than you have.”

You couldn't help but smile, and let it evolve into a little laugh as Fiora followed you into the latter. She could be funny, after all.

“So” she resumed "we're cool?”

You nodded, smiling gently at her. “We're cool.”

“Cool," she sighed, walking over to the bedroom door to open it. "Oh also," she turned to you "did you make yourself some enemies in your classmates?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Sort of, I guess. Why?”

“That Tyler guy, if I were you I'd keep him under a close eye” she was pinching the door in her hand, ready to get out. “He's the one that came to tell me everything I learned about you. He came to me the first night to tell me about all of that.”

And with that, she left, closing the door and leaving behind a deafening anger.

You should have expected it. How could you have been so stupid?

You were thinking about what Jayce had said at the beginning of the trip, about how you were probably related to the bruises Tyler himself had received.

You were starting to realise how the plotting of this had gone. If he couldn't manage to get you the treatment he was getting from both you and his family, then he would find someone who would have done it for him.

Did he insinuate to Fiora that she had to fight with you? Had he managed to push her to a duel against you in the euphoria of being able to see you lose to a renowned duelist like her?

You let yourself fall on your bed, too tired to get any more upset, but not allowing yourself to forget this under any pretext.

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g4rvez-r3id · 3 days ago

Text

Bad Day

Boyfriend! Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You come home from a really bad day and your boyfriend, Spencer is there to save the day… and hold you while you cry.

Category: Fluff, some Angst

Warnings: reader having the worst day of her life, crying, mentions of having bad days, kissing, spencer being the best bf ever- ig that’d be it 🤷‍♀️

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so this is more of a blurb bc i had a bad day today soooo this was the outcome of said bad day and how spencer would be 😌 can you tell i’m projecting again? oops. oh well.

This was probably the worst day of your life. Okay, it may not have been the worst day of your life per se, but it seemed like it was in the top ten at the very moment.

Everything that could’ve happened today happened. You woke up late, causing you to be late to work, you missed the bus on top of that, the customers in the store were horrendous and rude and you’d miscounted the deposit in the store at least a hundred times, causing you to be late to your other bus. Oh, and it was raining. Today was just not a good day.

And after your ten hour shift, all you want to do is just go home and cry yourself to sleep and forget this whole day. You’d arrived back home, holding yourself back from crying until you got into your bed. But you unlocked the front door and came home to a pleasant surprise.

Your boyfriend, Spencer was in the living room, reading a book, feet rested on the couch — showing off his mismatched socks — with a small smile on his face. “Hi, angel!” He diverts his attention from the book to you, closing it as he stood up from his spot on the couch. “How was work?”

You look up at him and his face makes you sad. He’s so happy to see you, so joyful even if he has a job being one of the most important people in the world, catching serial killers. He was a hero, essentially and had seen the worst of the worst out there and still managed to put a smile on his face whenever he saw you.

Your shoulders sank and your head fell against his chest and you began to cry into his sweater. And you cried hard. To the point where you were soaking Spencer’s sweater with your tears. Spencer, being the concerned boyfriend he was frowned and rubbed your shoulders, pulling you away from him so he could see you. “Hey,” He spoke softly. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter? Come here.”

He led you over to the couch where you sat down and he kneeled in front of you. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” Spencer asks as he rubs your thigh soothingly and your eyes are shut as you cry but you can feel him staring at you, awaiting an answer because he hates seeing you in this state.

“Everything that could’ve happened happened,” You sniffle. “I’ve had such a horrible day, Spencer.”

Spencer frowns as he sits next to you on the couch and lets you lean on him as you continue to cry and cry. “It was a bad day, that’s all it was.” He says as he rubs your arm. “Shh.” He says as he holds you close.

Eventually, you’re done letting it all out and take a deep breath and you look up at Spencer. You had kept your feelings in all day today until you got home and the minute you saw Spencer, you broke. Mostly because it was easier to be vulnerable with him. He made it easy to. And you were never afraid to express it to him.

Spencer looks at you with a fond, sympathetic smile as he takes the opportunity to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” You tell him as you looked down at his soaked sweater. “Don’t be,” He assures. “It’s normal to have bad days. Bad days are a common human experience, it happens to everyone. It often stemming from stress, poor sleep, or a series of minor inconveniences and while they can feel overwhelming, they can also be a learning opportunity to build resilience and understand yourself better.” He gives you a tight lipped smile after his little fact. And somehow, it makes you feel better about your bad day. “Do you feel any better?” He asks and you shrug with a sniffle, “A little.”

“Well, then how about you hop in the shower and I’ll get your bedroom made up since I put your sheets in the dryer —” He checks his watch. “A little under an hour ago — and I’ll order us takeout and we can have a movie night. And I’ll put on a Disney movie since those seem to cheer you up a lot. Is that okay?” Hearing him say that just makes you want to cry again. Not because you’re ungrateful but because you feel as if you don’t deserve a kind man like Spencer in your life.

Often, people told you to suck it up and get over it and grow up. But Spencer never did. He listened when you had bad days, he sat there when you vented and needed someone to listen to and vice versa. You’d felt vulnerable with him like he had with you. And at first, you weren’t like this. You never opened up to him because you were scared you’d get the same reaction — telling you to get over it, but he never did. He wouldn’t dare to.

“Please don’t cry, my love. I’m sorry.” Spencer says with a small loving smile, holding your face in his hands but you shake your head as him, “I’m not sad,” You tell him. “I’m just… emotional now because… you are seriously my dream man.” You say to him with a small smile and he chuckles at that and pats your thigh as he stands up and goes to the bathroom to get your shower ready.

After you get out of the shower, you go to your room and find Spencer has made your bed, the takeout is here and your TV is on, ready for any streaming networks.

You get into the bed and Spencer happily joins you, opting to turn on Wreck-It-Ralph since you both agreed on it and as the movie starts, you watch him with a small smile.

As he focuses his attention on the screen, you focus your attention on him. His perfect nose, the way it twitches when he’s happy. His brown-on-the-outside, gold-on-the-inside eyes, always so mesmerized in you. And the way they crinkle up when he smiles. And speaking of his smile, the most perfect you’d ever seen it. Next to his hair, which you are currently raking your hands in and brushing through with your fingers. He was so lovely, in your eyes. He was the flower petals to a beautiful rose, he was your everything. Just as you were his. What did you do to deserve him, you wonder.

“No wonder I had a bad day,” You spoke, causing him to turn his head to you and furrow his brows in confusion. “I didn’t have my lucky charm with me.” You say as you brush through his locks.

Spencer has a baffled look on his face at that sentence alone. “I’m your good luck charm, huh?” He asks, raised eyebrows and a small smile appearing across his face.

“The best good luck charm ever.” You lean close and peck his lips with your own and that’s what you’ve missed this entire time. His lips against yours and you can’t help but smile in the kiss.

Blushing like a schoolgirl, you back away from the kiss but he wants seconds. And he grabs you by the chin gently and kisses your lips one last time, so passionately and lovingly and he waits there after the fact, faces close and looking into your eyes as if you made the world stop turning.

You rest your head on his shoulder as you get impossibly close to him as you watch the movie with him and fifteen minutes later, Spencer looks over and sees that you’ve fallen asleep and he lets you rest. And he hopes that your bad day may have turned into a good one at the end of the night.

Spoiler alert: it did.

171 notes · View notes

devotedfem · 2 days ago

Text

«Charlie Y/n and the chocolate factory»

Synopsis: You were broke and lost, but a golden ticket changed your life. You won a trip to Seokjin's candy factory with other 4 contestants. But the tall charming man hid very dark secrets inside his company.

K. Seokjin x f. Reader

5.3K words.

Genre: Charlie and the chocolate factory au | yander-ish.

Tags: inspired by Charlie and the chocolate factory by Tim burton, obsessive behavior, mystery, weird and whimsy Seokjin (just like Wonka from the movie), murder, character death (not reader or Seokjin), hints of cannibalism (nothing explicit), weird things happening in the factory, plot with porn, extremely dubious consent, reader doesn't want Seokjin's attention, captivity, smut, very bad ending for reader, good ending for Seokjin, a tiny bit of angst, so much mystery.

From the series masterlist; Hush.

Navigation Masterlist.

It was freezing out there, you sighed blowing cold air, rubbing your palms to ease the ugly cold that was getting into your bones.

The little old house of your grandpa came into view, you rush into it, dying to sit in front of the hearth.

“Grandpa I’m home!” You say kicking your boots away, removing your big scarf and coat.

The temperature of the house wasn’t too different from outside, but at least your sweet grandpa was sitting comfortably in front of the fire, wrapped in many fluffy blankets. Your heart ache at the sight, you didn’t have enough money to install a heater. Your parents died when you were 12, and your grandpa took care of you since then, but he couldn’t do it anymore because of his illness, leaving him unemployed, so since you were 16 you had to work many jobs to support yourself and your grandparent. He was with you at your worst, so you will stay with him at his worst too. You own him a lot.

“Hi there,” you said softly, sitting beside him on the couch.

“Oh! My sweet pea! I didn’t hear ya’ coming, how was work, my child?” He said putting on his cute glasses with his clumsy hands, his eyes looked even more bigger now.

You smiled softly at him.

“ ‘Was pretty good as always. Tell me what did you do today? Read another good book?” You asked trying to divert the conversation, you didn’t want to talk about your shitty job.

It worked, because your grandpa smiled big and sweet, with stars shinning in his eyes.

“Even better, I listened to the radio, and guess what?” He asked like an excited toddler, you couldn’t help the endear smile from breaking on your face.

“What?”

“Seokjin gave a speech on the radio after being gone for 10 years! He will reopen his chocolate factory, but that’s not the best part!”

You frowned a little, that man closed his factory before your parents died. Your grandpa always told you that he met him once, but at this point you don’t know if you should trust your grandpa’s clarity and blurred memory.

“What would be his reason to appear again out of nowhere,” you said more to yourself, wondering about the mysterious man’s intention.

Your grandpa just shrugged at your words.

“Who knows… he has this mysterious and whimsy aura that surrounds him,” he said with admiration in his eyes, making you smile. “Anyway, as I was saying, the best part it’s that he hid five golden tickets inside five candy bars, they may be anywhere, in any shop. The point is, that those lucky five will visit Seokjin’s factory, and one of them will receive a special prize!”

You hummed at his words, imagining finding a golden ticket to give it to your grandpa, fulfilling his dream of visiting Seokjin’s factory, his literally idol.

But the corner of your lips curled down at your thoughts, you shouldn’t fantasize about that stuff, you’re not that lucky, and the probability of finding it is very low. You have to be realistic, you don’t even buy candy.

But… watching your dear grandpa’s eyes shining with hope at the thought of finding a golden ticket squeeze your heart.

You’d do anything in the world to make him happy, that’s why you’re walking towards the shop in the middle of the night, freezing your ass and ready to spend your last 5$ dollars.

The nearest store was full of people, as you expected. There was a queue of 30 people inside, all of them were buying candy bars, some even had shopping carts full of candys to the top. You were impressed, you didn’t know Seokjin’s factory was so adored.

You grabbed only one candy bar because you couldn’t afford to buy more. You felt a pang of sadness when you compared yourself to the others, your chances of getting the golden ticket were very low, and you knew that fact when you chose to test your luck, but the pill was still hard to swallow.

You paid the candy bar, and watched the snow outside of the store, so you stayed there two minutes more, using the heater of the store to warm your body.

But then, curiosity won over you, so you started to open the candy wrapper. You just needed to know, you’ll wrapped the candy again later.

And then your world stopped.

“What the fuck,” you blurt out with your hands trembling, blinking hard to make sure that it wasn’t your mind playing tricks.

It just can’t be true, the possibility, the chances were ridiculously low, but there it was.

A golden ticket. A fucking golden ticket.

“Oh my god you got it! She got it! Please resell it to me! I’ll give you anything, I can give you 3.000$ dollars right now!” A desperate woman grabbed one of your shoulders, with wide eyes fixated on the ticket in your hands.

You inhaled sharp at her words. Your heart beat went wild.

You needed the money, desperately. 3.000$ dollars would help you and your grandpa a lot. You can even raise the price taking advantage of the woman desperation.

But you just couldn’t. This was your grandparent dream, and you know deep down that this big opportunity it’s way more valuable than a few thousands of dollars, so you kept the candy bar and the ticket in your pocket and walked out of the store, almost running and looking back to make sure that no one was following you. You knew that you were extremely lucky by having the ticket, so you won’t take any risk on losing it.

“I got it!” You screamed at the top of your lungs when you got into your home, waking up your grandpa.

That night his eyes shined brighter than the fucking stars, you two were so lucky.

You just hope that everything keeps going this well. You really do.

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There was 6 of you standing in front of Seokjin’s factory, you were the only one who brought company. Your grandpa was as excited as a child eating a candy bar.

The other “participants” were a little bit intimidating, there was a young boy with bunny eyes and bulky body, he looked like a biker. Then there was this one who looked too posh and rich to be here, and right next to him was a blonde and cute boy chewing a gun. And the last man was pale and short, he seemed pretty quiet.

You were the only woman, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You didn’t have any money, any talent or a prestigious name, so you felt a little bit insecure standing there, like a fish out of water.

Big heavy metal doors suddenly open making you startle, revealing a set of mechanical and robotic puppets resembling people, performing a musical. It looked very creepy, and all of you looked at each other with frowns.

“Seokjin! The amazing chocolatier!” They sang in unison with their uncanny faces.

But then the robots malfunction, sparkling and running down of battery.

“What the fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

“He was way more dramatic back then. This looks a little bit sluggish for him.” Said your grandpa.

Your attention was brought back to the entrance when a man came out of it.

He was very tall, with wide shoulders, wearing a long red coat and a black hat hiding his gaze. He then took off his hat to smile at you all. Your breath stopped at the sight, he was gorgeous and he looked pretty young too. He seemed to be in his late thirties, you expected him to be older to be honest.

His dark eyes inspected all of you, until his gaze fell upon you, watching you for a long couple of seconds. Recognition flashed his face when he saw your grandparent at your side.

You couldn’t believe that your grandpa really met this guy.

“Hello there, my golden winners.” He said with a smirk on his face.

“Who’s this freak?” Asked the posh guy with a grimace.

“He’s Seokjin!” Said your grandpa excited. All of the other participants turned their attention towards the both of you, like they just had realized that you two exist at all.

“I thought you’d be older, no offense, this factory it’s pretty old.” You speak up for the first time since you entered the factory.

Seokjin’s dark eyes were on you immediately, watching you slowly from head to toe, and smiling to himself.

“I promise you, that my factory isn’t that old little one, neither I am.” He winked at you before returning his attention to the others.

“All right! let’s move on, shall we?” Cheered Seokjin putting his hat on and turning around to walk into the factory.

The others were quick to follow his steps, almost as if they were competing with each other for whoever’s gets to Seokjin’s side faster. You rolled your eyes at them, they acted like toddlers, you wonder how good the final prize must be to have these grown ass men behaving like kids fighting for candy.

“Mr. Seokjin, I should say my father is a big fan of yours. He owns the gas company of the town by the way. He even said to me that he would love to make business with you one day,” uttered the posh and fancy-looking boy with his chin up and chest out. He seemed to be the type of rich kid who thinks he can buy the world with daddy’s money.

Seokjin hummed at his words without slowing down his quick walk, almost as if he didn’t care at all by the boy words.

“Gas and chocolate have nothing in common, the kids don’t eat gas and the cars don’t fuel on chocolate.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his silly response, making everyone else chuckle along with you. The guy blinked taken aback by Seokjin’s response, not expecting him to reject his proposal so dumbly.

Seokjin looked back at you over his shoulder, giving you an enigmatic smirk with his hat hidden his dark gaze. You felt shivers at his attention, but it was gone when he returned to look straight ahead.

“Hey dude, don’t take that creep seriously, I mean he treat us like kids. He’s so weird,” muttered lowly the blonde boy chewing a gun beside the rich one.

The posh guy crossed his arms with a frown, with his steady eyes sending daggers to Seokjin’s back.

“You’re right. He’s literally broke and he dares to reject my proposal,” spat him with disgust, looking to the other boy head to toe, giving him a smile that looked all too fake, “I’m Taehyung, you are…?”

“Jimin,” smiled the blondie blowing his bubblegum.

“Let’s be friends then.”

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Your eyes were widened and your mouth parted, your grandpa expression wasn’t better. Seokjin brought you to his chocolate room, a huge place with literally a river and a waterfall of melted chocolate, there was a vibrant green grass on your feet, everything looked so colorful and bright that it has all of you entrance, well except for the raven-haired boy with cat eyes, he seemed disgusted.

“Now now, don’t drool over the sight my dear participants. I know this place looks otherworldly, but I need you all to be careful.” He warned standing tall and clasping his arms behind his body.

“This looks pretty unsanitary,” the cat-eye boy sneered with disgust, pursing his lips at the sight of the river.

“Oh, you must be Yoongi. The little devil that hacked my system to win the ticket, don’t worry though, I hold no grudge, boy.” Sneered Seokjin back, you can imagine the mirth in his hidden gaze.

“I’m 29, not a fucking boy. And I’m not “little” anything, your system was just shitty,” said Yoongi with his jaw clenched.

Seokjin’s smirk only widened.

“Forgive me Yoongi, your height confused me a little, it was a little mishap perhaps, I hope you forgive me a little, little Yoongi.”

You bit your tongue to not laugh at Seokjin’s childish and dumb remark. He did hit a nerve though, by the way Yoongi widened his eyes in disbelief with his fists clenched, his cat-eyes were narrowed, and if looks can kill Seokjin would be buried 9 feet underground.

“He’s so cringe, oh my god,” mumbled the biker boy, walking away to get near the river of chocolate, with everyone else following him.

“I think this place is beautiful,” you said to Seokjin, watching your surrounds with awe, standing right next to him.

You felt his piercing gaze fixated on you.

“It is indeed, and besides its beauty, everything here it’s eatable.” He said the last word lowly, making you shiver at his odd change of tone.

“Everything? Even the grass?” You asked impressed.

He chuckled, looking down at you with half of his face hidden by the hat.

“Even the grass, even you.”

You blinked and frowned at his words, he must be joking, right?

“Right… I think you’re funny, sometimes…” you mumbled averting your gaze towards your happy grandpa eating a candy apple.

Seokjin hummed, saying nothing for a long minute.

“Be careful pretty girl, everything inside my factory belongs to me. Everything here I can eat.” Those words horrified you, making you freeze in your place. You watched Seokjin walking away towards the river and the biker boy who was devouring the chocolate with his bare hands.

You watched in slow motion how the boy slipped from the edge falling right into the river of chocolate, and you saw how Seokjin did nothing to help the boy from falling, almost as if he was expecting it to happen.

“He fell into the river! Someone help him!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, alerting the others. You ran to the edge of the river, realizing with dread that the boy was nowhere to be seen. The melted chocolate was motionless, as if he never fell into it.

Everyone rushed to the edge, calling for the boy and sinking their arms into the melt chocolate to grab him but there was no body on the surface.

You felt your pulse quickening with alarm. Your hands trembled and sweat; you couldn’t believe what had just happened. A boy drowned in front of you, probably dead at this point, and you did nothing to save him. Seokjin did nothing help him.

“You didn’t help him!” You shouted at Seokjin, making everyone else went silent. Watching you two with surprise, your grandpa frowned with concern.

Seokjin arched a brow, looking down at you with dark eyes, and then his lips curled in a spiteful half-smile.

“You didn’t help him either, in fact you just stand over there watching him fall. I told him to be careful, I couldn’t risk myself to help him because it would’ve been useless, this river is dangerous. My employees will call the police. Follow me.”

He simply said turning around and pointing forward for the others to follow him, and for your horror they just walked away as if nothing happened, as if there wasn’t a corpse swinging into the depths of the river.

You stand there in shock, your eyes widened and your fists clenched with fury and frustration. You were speechless, and you regret not talking back to Seokjin, not telling the others that you were further than him and that’s why you didn’t react quickly enough to help the boy. But the words were dead on your tongue, it was pointless to argue with Seokjin. The boy was dead anyway, and no one cares.

“I didn’t know he was this cruel, it’s like he got ice in his veins. He wasn’t like that back then, maybe we should go home my sweet pea. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Your grandpa was staring at you with worry written on his face.

You smiled at him, trying not to show your bitterness and fear.

“Don’t worry about me grandpa, let’s stick together and be careful. I want proves to charge him to the police, I know he’s hidden something,” you muttered the last words to yourself.

“All right then, but if it gets too dangerous, we go, okay?”

“Okay,” you promised softly.

You won’t let that freak go unpunished.

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Seokjin made you climb on a boat on the chocolate river, and you felt sick to your stomach when you think about the boy’s corpse in the bottom of the river. It was just so cruel, but you stayed quiet, watching your surrounds to catch anything suspicious, you’re absorbing any kind of information to give it to the police.

The boat sails off towards a tunnel in full speed.

“Where the fuck are we going?” Said the posh guy whose name was Taehyung, looking around with scared eyes.

“If I am honest with you, I have no idea where this boat will lead us,” said calmly Seokjin, sitting with his legs crossed. You wanted to murder him.

“What!?” Screamed the blondie, almost spatting his gum. He was trying to win a Guinness record of the person who chews a gum longer.

“I’m joking, I’m not that crazy. Jeez.” Seokjin muttered, explaining a couple of rooms that were in the tunnel.

This place was literally otherworldly, you didn’t know a factory can hide all this dreamy and extravagant rooms. Seokjin can be a psycho and a weirdo, but he was pretty artsy and creative for building a place like this.

You were in entrance by all the wonders you saw, until you stopped in front of a room with machines, it seems that here is where the candys are made. He was explaining all the whimsy ways he creates candy, until he stopped in front of a big gum machine.

“There is something new I created, an everlasting gum, for the kids who had little money to buy candy. Isn’t it wonderful?” Seokjin’s voice was full of pride, standing tall in front of his machine.

“I feel like I’m in a fairy tale, nothing here feels real.” You say to no one.

“I second that,” said the cat-eyed boy.

The machine let out a violet gum, and the blondie’s eyes shine at the sight.

“I need to taste it, you can charge me the candy later.” Said the blonde whose name was Jimin, chewing the new gum without spiting the other he had.

Seokjin’s lips curled down with annoyance.

“I didn’t say you can chew that, is still a work in progress. I don’t know about its side effects.”

That was a warning, and you knew all to well what would happen next.

Jimin’s face turned blue, literally blue. He started to cough violently, your grandpa gave him strong pats on his back, but it was useless.

You watch with relieve when Yoongi stands behind Jimin placing both of his hands on Jimin’s belly, pulling inward and upward to force air out of Jimin’s lungs. And the blonde did spat the gums, but he fainted anyway. Everyone gasped with worry, and for everyone’s horror the boy’s pulse was absent.

Did he really die? Just like that?

“My employees will call the ambulance, he will be fine. Let’s move on.”

Your lips were parted in shock at his response, you watched freeze from your spot how strangers came out of nowhere to take Jimin’s body away.

Yoongi and you stared at each other with fear.

Something was off. It wasn’t a coincidence what happened, it was a trap for Jimin, maybe the gum was poisoned? But he did warn Jimin about it… But he also did it too late though, he should’ve said something before.

There was a strong tension in the air around all of you. The silence was unbearable, and no one dared to break it.

You stared at Seokjin all the time, watching his every expression, analyzing his words and where he keeps his attention at. But you found nothing odd, yet.

You weren’t surprise when he brought you all to a room full of squirrels getting nuts off its shells. The others were distracted by the sight, especially Taehyung who said that squirrels were his favorite animal.

But your eyes were fixated on Seokjin’s back, something feels off again.

“I’ll have holes in my back by your stares, pretty girl. Though I’m not complaining, I kind of like your intense eyes on me.” Seokjin sneered turning around to face you. His gaze was as intense as yours.

“Really? It’s a shame that I’m only staring at you with disgust, but you must be used to people looking at you like the freak you are.” The words were vomited without your consent, you didn’t mean to blurt all of that. It wasn’t a smart move to insult him when you are in his factory, under his rules.

Seokjin didn’t say anything back, standing tall in front of you, not moving and not talking, making you uncomfortable by his heavy gaze. You did notice a sour expression flashing his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

He then, step slowly towards you, inches from your body. You felt him leaning his upper body closer to you, feeling his hot breath at the side of your head.

“I know you’re a smart girl, so I will warn you once; don’t ever insult me in my factory. If you know what I’m capable of, you wouldn’t stand here so brave offending me.” He whispered near you ear, making you shiver. He spoke those words lowly but firmly.

You blinked, leaning your head back to look at him. He met your gaze, with his eyes falling to your lips.

Is that desire what you see?

Does he think you’re dumb?

“What would you do to me? Drown me in chocolate?” You asked in a whisper, making Seokjin grin like a wolf.

“Perhaps I would, but your body won’t sink in the river but in my cock, opened sweetly for me. I told you everything here belongs to me, and if I say so, you won’t step a foot outside of this factory.”

Seokjin smile was predatory, and his words felt somehow possessive.

What were you all doing here? Does he eat people?

“Because you’ll kill me? And then eat me like Jungkook and Jimin?” You spat with anger.

Seokjin grabbed your waist to pull you closer to him, staring down at you with hunger in his eyes.

“Don’t tempt me, I would love to eat you. But not kill you, what use can have a rotten candy? The others were simply compost for my experiments, but you are my prize.” He said the last words near your lips, with his hot breath brushing your mouth.

You flinched away from him with disgust and fear. He was crazier than you think. You should’ve run away with your grandpa when he told you to do so, but you knew that Seokjin wouldn’t let you go that easy, all of you were dammed the moment you step a foot inside the factory.

Now you have to think how get the fuck away from here.

A scream from Taehyung pulled you away from your thoughts, you witnessed with horror how the squirrels throw him inside a deep hole in the room, with his screams echoing while he was falling. Until there was a crash noise, and then just deep silence.

Yoongi and your grandpa looked back at Seokjin with horror written on their faces.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine.”

Everyone know it wasn’t the truth.

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The four of you were inside of an elevator made of glass going to god knows where. The silence was present again, lingering heavily, until Yoongi broke it with a deep frown.

“Why are there so many floors? That’s impossible.”

Seokjin snorted at him, rolling his eyes.

“Well, I think your little smart-ass didn’t expect this elevator to go sideways.” Seokjin remarked pressing a button, and as he said, the elevator went sideway to a cold room.

The room was huge and snow covered, your teeth chattered by the cold. You hugged yourself to feel a little bit of warmth, you looked at your grandpa with worry.

“Let me guess, here’s where you make ice-cream.” Said bitterly Yoongi. His nose was turning red.

“Touché.” Replied Seokjin with a grin.

You hate him.

“Why are we here? We’ll die of cold.” You said blowing cold air. You took off your sweater to put it on your grandpa, he needed it more than you.

“Don’t worry, there’s a door leading to another room. Follow me.” Said Seokjin walking away.

You walked through many rooms, each one weirder than the other. Those rooms have no purpose but to be weird and extravagant.

“Why are we fucking walking when we could use the elevator.” Groaned Yoongi with annoyance.

“This is so stupid,” you muttered to yourself, feeling exhausted.

“Don’t be so grumpy, we’re closer to the end of the contest.”

Seokjin’s words made you shiver, you didn’t want to find out how will be the end or the final prize.

You stopped in front of door, when Seokjin opened it, you entered an empty lab with a television in the middle of the white room.

He made you wear lab coats, and told you to stand in front of the tv.

The screen showed a candy bar in a cave. You frowned, feeling lost of why were you there.

“Little boy, why don’t you grab the candy bar,” ordered Seokjin without taking his eyes off the screen.

Yoongi cursed under his breath, grabbing Seokjin’s coat with his fists. Yoongi might be two heads shorter than Seokjin, but he looked intimidating with those piercing cat eyes.

“Listen here you fucking candy freak, you better stop calling me short or I’ll go and call the police on you, and your weird murderous business. You choose.”

You inhaled sharp when you notice Seokjin’s gaze darkening. Yoongi was so stupid for that, you all were in danger, and he knew damn well.

“Yoongi stop,” you said, trying to save him from earning Seokjin’s wrath.

Your words knocked some sense into his head, because he let go of Seokjin’s coat as if it burned his hands, regret flashed his face. You can’t anger the psycho that has all of you trapped here.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” said Yoongi between teeth.

“It’s all right, no grudges, remember?” Said light-heartly Seokjin, but you knew better than to fall for his nice façade.

“Why are we in front of a tv?” Asked your grandpa, turning Seokjin’s attention back to the tv. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Well, I need one of you to grab the candy bar from the tv screen. Yoongi, would you do us the favor?”

Yoongi laughed, then sobered up when he realized that Seokjin was being serious.

“Uhm, okay I guess,” he said, expecting to crash his hand against the screen, but to your surprise his hand passed through the screen, actually grabbing and pulling the candy bar out of the tv.

All of you were shocked, not believing what just happened.

“Eat it, it’s yummy I promise,” smiled Seokjin, and Yoongi did as he said.

He finished eating, licking the wrapper.

“It was good.”

“Now, return the wrapper into the tv,” ordered Seokjin.

And again, Yoongi did as he said, except this time when he touched the screen he got electrocuted, with his eye balls turning white and his body stiffing by the electric shocks.

You screamed with horror at the top of your lungs, crying and begging Seokjin to stop whatever was happening.

And Seokjin did stop it, by simply turning the tv off.

You watched with tears Yoongi’s body falling to the floor, motionless, lifeless. You couldn’t believe you witnessed that atrocity.

“You’re a monster,” said your grandpa grabbing his chest.

You widened your eyes with worry.

“He needs to get out of here! It’s too much stress for him,” you said with a trembling and desperate voice, making Seokjin hum.

“All right, but in one condition; he can go only if you stay.”

Your grandpa shake his head, not willing to leave you here alone.

You swallowed hard, closing your eyes for a second, you’ll find a way to escape. Your priority now is your grandpa’s health.

“Fine. But I need to see him out of here safe and sound, I don’t trust you.”

“Deal,” grinned Seokjin, like the wolf he was.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

You watched with a heavy heart how Seokjin’s employees took your grandpa away from you, hearing him screaming your name, telling them with sobs “return me to my child! She can’t be alone with that monster”, but no one listened to him. You were standing next to Seokjin in the entrance, watching your grandpa’s body disappear out of the factory, away from you.

At least he was safe.

You though for a second about running away, maybe if you do it fast enough they won’t catch you. But Seokjin read your mind, pulling you inside the factory and locking the big doors with a set of keys, one you noticed in great detail.

But locking you inside didn’t mean you won’t try to run, and so you did. He followed you behind and you run as fast as possible, reaching the room with the chocolate river. You stand on the edge of the river, watching the boat lingering closer to you. You extended your arm to grab the border of the boat, but you slipped, falling straight into the river.

“Watch out!” Were the words you heard from Seokjin before sinking into the chocolate.

The world turned silent, and you feel yourself drowning in a dense immobilizing substance, making it impossible for you to move or swing to the surface.

That’s it, that’s how’ll you die, drowning in fucking chocolate. The most stupid fucking way of dying, but at least you won’t see Seokjin again.

And suddenly, you were on the surface, inhaling lungful’s of air. Seokjin pulled you out of the depths, carrying you to the edge.

You two were soaked in chocolate, lying on the “shore” of the river.

“I’ll chain you, for being so stupid. You have zero survival instincts.” He barked, breathing heavily.

You didn’t expect him to save you, that grossed you out.

You tried to get up but Seokjin didn’t let you, carrying you in his arms in bridal style. You were too weak and tired to protest.

He took you into a hidden room, locking again the door behind him. The way he locks every door makes you feel claustrophobic and trapped.

You shriek when he dropped you on a table, chaining your wrists and ankles to it. You struggle against the chains, but it was impossible to free yourself from them.

Seokjin stared down at you with hunger in his eyes, watching slowly your body sprawled on the table.

He took a knife, and you closed your eyes expecting him to kill you, but he did not. Cutting your clothes instead, tearing your clothes away and leaving you bare for him. Your cheeks heated and your heart beat went wild, you felt angry, exposed and afraid. It was too much.

Seokjin’s lips attached itself to the exposed skin of your belly, making you flinch but bearing it, because you have no choice. He kissed the skin, tasting the chocolate, licking and kissing the skin until your breasts, his tongue circled slowly around your nipples, and then they travel up to your neck.

He lapped your neck slowly, like a thirsty but restrain dog. His hot breath was labored against your neck, and his lips and tongue taste you like a sweet candy.

You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.

And your eyes sting with tears, because you were enjoying it.

taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg @acherry04 @lizziekitty @catlove83 @itlover8000

#bangtan fanfic #bts x reader #bts imagines #yandere bts #bts x you #bts fanfic #bangtan fic #yandere x reader #seokjin bts #seokjin x you #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #yandere seokjin #kim seokjin #seokjin imagine #yandere

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kaleidoscopewritings19 · 1 day ago

Text

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Title: Dreams of Her

Warning(s): SMUT. MDNI. P in V, Oral, female receiving. Unprotected sex. 18+ Wrap it before you tap it.

Character(s): Joel Miller, Female X Reader, Sarah Miller mentioned, Mrs. Adler mentioned, and Ellie.

Everything italicized is a dream! Bold print = dialogue prompts. Credit for prompts @ the other woman-Emily.

MY WORK IS NOT TO BE SHARED, TRANSLATED, OR POSTED TO OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS. ©️

The cool Wyoming air whipped through the open window, causing Joel to stir awake. He rubbed his face, trying to see what time it was. The old analog clock on his nightstand read 2:02 AM. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stared at the floor.

His body cracked and popped as he slowly stood up out of bed, and closed the window. The fully functional small town of Jackson was sound asleep; other than the men who had to take watch. It was hard to find sleep most nights, but Joel wanted nothing more than to rest his achy, tired body.

But before he could get back into bed, he had to check on Ellie. Never in a million years did he think he’d have the opportunity to live a (somewhat) normal life after the outbreak. He never thought he would get the chance to check on someone he cared about again.

The old wood door creaked as he peered around it, finding Ellie sound asleep at her window seat— uncovered. Joel quietly walked over and covered her shivering body with her comforter, and was able to leave without waking her.

Anytime he woke up, he couldn’t go back to bed until he checked around the house. He wasn’t afraid— he was just taking extra precautions.

After a quick scan throughout the house, Joel felt safe enough to crawl back into bed. No sooner than he pulled his blankets up, he was out. At night, memories would plague his dreams- especially the bad ones. However, tonight was one of the rare one’s where he dreamed of you.

Back in Austin, Joel had built a porch swing. Sarah had requested one be built for her to sit and swing on during the summer. Joel would do anything to make his daughter, his number one priority, happy.

It was May 24th of 2002 when Joel had finally decided to start on the porch swing; it would be built just in time for Sarah to have it for the first day of her summer break. She was at school and Joel had went to the hardware store and came back to the house to see you sitting on the porch steps.

You were wearing a yellow sundress, and your hair was curled and pinned back. Joel loved seeing you on his porch steps looking like a goddess.

When you seen him pull into the driveway, you had a big smile on your face. You jumped up from the porch steps and ran into his open arms. He pressed a kiss to your lips, “Hey there darlin’. Have ya been waitin’ long?” He questioned and you shook your head.

“Nope. I got here five minutes ago.” You said and he pulled you close into his body. Joel could still faintly smell your Vanilla perfume. “I love you in that dress.” He mumbled against your glossed lips.

You smiled up at him, “I don’t think your neighbor does. She asked me if I wanted to borrow one of her cardigans. Said there’s s’pose to be a cold spell coming soon.” Joel instantly knew what neighbor you were referring to— Mrs. Adler. He has had multiple conversations with her about you; most of them being about how young you were.

“Joel, she’s a little young don’t cha think?”

“People might think she’s your daughter.”

However, you were 22 years old, and he was 32 years old. That made you thirteen years older than Sarah, and ten years younger than him. But no matter how much he tried to explain to Mrs. Adler that you were much older than Sarah, she would still tell him,

“Now, Joel, that young lady is still wet behind the ears. You can’t expect her to stick around long—she’s young, and naive right now.” On multiple occasions, Mrs. Adler had tried to talk sense into you, but you never talked back and always respected what she had to say.

Joel admired you for that, and at times, you would try to gain the neighbors approval by helping her in the garden, or helping with her mother.

Joel couldn’t help but to smile, “I think she forgets this is Texas. We aren’t going to have a cold spell for a while.” He pulled a couple of sacks from the inside of the truck, and walked them over to the porch.

“What are you going to build, J?” You asked and Joel reached out for your hand.

“A porch swing for Sarah. She’s been beggin’ for one for awhile now.” He said as he led you up the steps, and pointed where the swing would go.

“Oh, she’ll love that! It would be the perfect spot to read a book, or to drink coffee in the morning.” You said as you sat on the porch banister. Joel’s right leg went in between your legs, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

His hands held your waist, “That would be nice. A hot cup of coffee in the morning, or seeing you on it when I come home from work.” You smiled as his palm flatted against your bare thigh, and moved upwards under your dress. Joel shamelessly planted kisses along your jawline, and then traced down your neck. You shuddered as his lips delicately danced around the sensitive skin.

“Someone might see us, Joel..” you whispered as his finger tips traced your laced panties. “No one’s going to see us.” He murmured. His lips connected to yours, and your fingers tugged at his dark brown hair; this encouraged him to go even further.

Joel spread your legs just enough for him to slip a finger into your panties, and between your slick folds. A breathy moan escaped past your lips; this was music to Joel’s ears.

Before he could go any further, the squeaking sound of Mrs. Adler’s screen door made the two of you jump apart. If Joel wouldn’t have caught your leg, you would’ve fell in the bushes. “Hi Mrs. Adler!” He shouted and she waved at him.

“Just checking the mail! Don’t mind me!” She shouted back, and both you and Joel chuckled.

He helped you down from the banister and lead you into the quietness of his home. The Miller home was far from being fancy, but you always told him his home was more homey and comforting than yours.

Your father was some big time military General; he often lived in different countries while you and your mom stayed in Texas. But now he was home for the next couple of years, and you talked about how hard he could be on you. Your father expected big things from you, and that’s why you were studying to become a clinical psychologist.

Did your father know about him? Yes. Joel had met your father on a couple of occasions and he did not approve of Joel. Number one, ‘he was too old’. Number two, ‘he had a child’. And number three, ‘he was simply not good enough for you’. Despite your father’s wishes, you stayed with Joel.

It was hard to get alone time with Joel, because on weekends, school breaks, and any time after 3 PM, he was in full dad mode. Joel had told Sarah some stuff about you, but as far as she knew, you were just a good friend.

Joel closed the front door behind him, and you sat down on the arm of the couch. The cool leather against your skin made you shiver. Slowly, you pulled the pins from your hair, and beckoned him to come to you. The scent of your perfume drove him crazy; all he wanted to do was take you right then and there.

He knelt down in front of you, both hands running up and down your legs agonizingly slow. His dark brown eyes looked up through his lashes, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your knee, then up to your thigh.

Joel’s calloused hands rested on your thighs, and then without a notice, his fingers hooked under the thin lacy fabric of your panties. He slid them down your legs letting the air hit your wet core. A smile broke out across Joel’s face as he slid you closer to him, his head now underneath your dress. He pressed a kiss to the inner part of your thigh, and then pressed a gentle kiss to where you wanted him the most.

Your hands went to his hair as his tongue flattened and tasted you. When the tip of his tongue danced around your clit, it made you push yourself back from the sudden warmth of pleasure.

Joel pulled you down to sit on the couch rather than the arm of the piece of furniture; his face never left your core. His hands flattened against your thighs, and kept a strong grip on them; Joel didn’t want you to move an inch from his mouth.

“Oh, Joel.” You whimpered as his tongue delve into you.

There was one thing Joel loved more than having you on his cock, and it was tongue fucking you. Your breathing would turn into short breaths, and you would moan his name over and over like a sweet song. His thumb started massaging your clit in a circular motion, “I want you to finish baby.” He mumbled against your wet cunt.

When he realized that you weren’t getting close, he swirled his tongue around your clit. You squirmed underneath his hands but he held you still— bruises would surely form. Joel teased your clit, causing you to pull him closer into you.

Your body shook underneath his grasp and against his lips as he continued to lap up your juices. When you arched your back, Joel knew you were about to finish. “Joel, I’m about to..”

Before you could finish your sentence, Joel pulled away, lips glistening with you. He scooped you up off the couch bridal style, and took you up the stairs and into his room.

Joel sat you on the edge of his bed, his lips red and puffy from his previous activity. His left hand steadied himself on the bed while his right hand played with the spaghetti strap of your sundress.Your nose brushed against Joel’s, and his lips ghost over yours; the strap to your dress tickled down your arm, exposing your hard nipple to him.

His thumb and forefinger pinched and twisted the pebbled skin, and he connected his lips to yours. Your lips moved against his softly—during days like these, Joel preferred to take things slow. It was only 8AM, he had all the time in the world to make love to you. He pulled the other strap of your dress down, and started pulling your dress up over your hips. You pulled away from his lips, and quickly pulled his shirt over his head. Then you started working on unbuckling the belt from his jeans, “So impatient, darlin’.”

“I’m more than patient. You left me hangin’ downstairs.” You responded, and Joel stopped your hands.

“Watch the attitude, sweetheart. Don’t make me fuck it out of you.” his Texas accent laid the words on thick. His thumb tilted your chin back so he could look you in the eyes.

You smiled up at him, and continued to pull his jeans down. His cock was already throbbing from the site of you, and when your hand gently brushed over the bulge in his boxers, it twitched. With a devious smile, you pushed yourself back on the bed and spread your legs. Joel knew what you were doing; you were going to try to punish him for the little stunt he pulled downstairs.

Your hands trailed between your legs, and your fingers ran between your slick folds. He watched you intently, as you brought your fingers to your lips, tasting yourself. Joel groaned at the site in front of him. “Use your words, Joel. Tell me, what you want.” You teased, using the words he used to you in bed.

Joel chuckled, “I want you to keep doin’ what your doin’.” But you shook your head, “Not good enough, Joel. Tell me what you want me to do.”

His eyes darkened, “I want you to put your hand between your legs, and insert one finger at a time until I tell you to stop.” He commanded, he was slowly taking back control.

You obeyed his words, and your hand slowly traced from your stomach, down between your legs, gathering the wetness on your fingers.

Joel pulled down his boxers, his cock springing out. You drooled at the site of him standing in front of you, waiting for you to do what he said.

Languidly, you inserted one finger inside of yourself, and slowly pulled it in and out of you. Joel took his cock in his hands and started pumping himself as you added a second finger.

When you added a third finger, the idea of taking things slow was left behind. Joel crawled across the bed, and pushed you down into the mattress. He hovered over your body, and pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. Your dress was discarded as Joel sat up.

He pulled you by your calves and angled you up, “Look at that pussy. So wet for me.” Joel guided his cock to your entrance, teasing your clit with the tip. You could feel the warmth of pre-cum rub against you, “Oh Joel…” you whimpered.

“I love it when you whimper my name.” He said as he pushed the tip into your tight cunt. A groan escaped past his lips, “So fuckin’ tight.”

His cock pushed deeper inside you. With every push, your grip tightened on his forearms, and your legs trembled in his hands.

You released your grasp on his forearms, and started massaging your breasts; it was something Joel loved to see you do while he fucked you senseless.

The stretch around his cock stung, but when he looked at you for confirmation to move, you gave him a small nod. Slowly, his hips rocked up into you, and his gaze was fixed upon you. Joel’s pace had quickened, and the squelching sounds of your pussy suctioning to him was erotic; it fed fuel to the fire that was burning between you two.

“I love watching you take in every inch of my cock into that perfect body.” He groaned as he watched himself go in and out of you.

When he gazed back up at you, your eyes were closed tight, lost in pure euphoria. He released your legs, and spread them further apart, so he could move between them.

His body hovered over yours, and he pressed a kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered opened as his cock rested inside you, and he kissed along your neck and back to your jawline.

“Please, don’t stop.” You whimpered and Joel resumed back to thrusting into you. Your mouth gaped as Joel sucked on your neck, surely leaving a hickey behind.

“Everyone is gonna know who you belong to.” He mumbled, and his pace started to slow down. “I want you to finish on my cock, baby.” He whispered into your ear.

Joel could feel you tighten around his pulsating cock, and when a lewd sound left your lips, he knew you were chasing your high. “Come for me.” He whispered and you were shaking underneath him. His lips connected to yours as he spilled inside of you; he rocked into you until he couldn’t anymore.

With his free hand, he pushed back a strand of hair that was stuck to your forehead. He pulled out of you and pulled the bed sheet to cover your naked bodies. When he laid back into the pillows, you moved over and rested your head above his heart.

Joel pulled you close into his body and he caressed your back, his fingers gingerly touching you.

The two of you laid there in silence, looking over at the breeze that was moving the curtain back and forth. “I miss you.” You whispered, and Joel’s fingers froze over your shoulder blade.

“Darlin’, I’m right here.” He said. You sat up on your elbow so you could look him in the eyes.

“I miss you so much my heart hurts.” Tears filled your eyes and Joel sat up. “I didn’t want to go with him, I- I wanted to go with you. It wasn’t my choice, my father said we would come back for you, and we- we didn’t.” You sobbed.

Joel stared at you in bewilderment, “What are you talkin’ about, Y/N?”

“He took me away from you the night of the outbreak. Don’t you remember Joel? I was with you, Tommy, and Sarah. I was there when they shot her. I was there when you cradled her body. Did you know my father shot me on command?”

Joel woke up and he gasped for air. He looked towards the right side of his bed where you should have been, but the space was empty. His heart pounded in his chest, and all he could do was stare at the empty side of his bed.

The sun was shining through a space in the curtain, and he looked over at his clock: 8:01 AM. He rubbed his face as he stepped out of bed and opened his night stand.

Joel was only able to save a few pictures; a couple of Sarah and then a photo of you from the day you wore that yellow sundress. You were sitting on the new porch swing and Joel was right next to you, his arm slung around your shoulders, watching you smile at the camera. In the photograph, he was smiling at you smiling, and he was glad Mrs. Adler caught this moment.

The dreams he had of you, never ended like that. He often wondered where you were, or what happened to you. Joel knew your father would have protected you over anyone else, and he hoped you were still alive and thriving.

Regardless of what was going on in this apocalyptic world, when he thought of you, he hoped you were safe. Sometimes, when Joel found himself alone and it was quiet, he would pray that you were out there alive, and that your paths would cross.

He took the picture downstairs with him as he fixed himself a cup of coffee. The photo was worn and faded; the back was yellowed, but in black ink, he could still read your words.

“Joel, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you. Forever and Always, Y/N.”

Ellie came up behind him to pull a cup out of the cupboard. “Who’s that?” She asked and Joel looked down at your smiling face.

“She’s a story for another time.” He said with a sad, small smile. Ellie stared at the picture on the counter, but she knew better than to pester Joel about it.

You were one of the last things he had that was good. The idea of keeping you to himself, made him feel like you were still alive. Saying what happened that night out loud, made him believe otherwise.

Joel picked up the picture and placed it in the pocket of his shirt, that rested above his heart. Maybe one day, your paths would cross.

I don’t know how to feel about this one. I’m semi-comfortable with writing smut, but I fear I’m not GOOD at it. I was nervous to post this, but oh well. 👀Part 2 maybe? Or should we end it here? Thank for reading! Comments, likes, and reboots are always welcomed and appreciated!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us #pedro pascal

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elodieunderglass · 12 hours ago

Note

I have two jockeyposting questions, if I may! 1. Killie has a delightful bear of a boyfriend. Is he out? Horseracing doesn't seem like it would be very queer-friendly but maybe I'm wrong about that. 2. Is the fact that people are generally getting taller a problem for finding tiny jockeys?

Of course thank you so much! I adore getting these thank you so much ☺️

1.) horse racing is not queer-friendly to jockeys.

There is one ☝️ out gay jockey in the Anglosphere/Europe/probably the world, Jack Duern. (1) Duern came out on Twitter and his career tanked, with trainers openly disapproving and no longer offering rides. Since no mounts = no pay, he left the field. Interestingly, he came back a few years later, with lots of inclusion campaigns in the UK promising that “horse racing is for everyone,” but it’s reasonable that nobody else has followed him out! Duern has said that of course there are other gay jockeys, and that the jockeys themselves are actually quite supportive of each other. But as disposable freelancers with no collective bargaining, who don’t hold power in the sport and get rides based on reputation, why risk what very much happened to Duern for no benefit? All the people who hold power in horse racing are ghastly Tories, and the rainbow capitalism clearly hasn’t created conditions of safety or trust in the real world.

Now Killie is of course a fictional jockey who lives in my head. Realistically, he is Not Out in the modern era. Him being out would be MASSIVE. He is barely out to himself. His emotional baggage requires a storage unit. Probably the biggest single piece of baggage was that his twin brother was thrown out (of family, home and sport) for dating men, and disappeared for several years; which broke several load-bearing things in Killie.

He will definitely have to come out of the closet, like a badger boiling furiously from a hole to bite your feet off, possibly in the end by simply bringing Derek as his plus-one to a black-tie event and then lunging at the first person to Have a Problem With It. Suspended jockey license for three months for biting, again.

Mind you, Killie is terrible queer representation. Can you imagine.

Pride is for everyone, even Killie. Pride is for everyone, even Killie. Pride is for -

The answer to question 2) has a trigger warning for discussion of size/weight, tap “keep reading” to keep reading

2.) the legendary tiny jockeys are indeed getting rarer, and their extinction has been claimed in the UK. There is no preference - no economic pressure - for short jockeys; the industry doesn’t care much if you’re a healthy short bastard or a starving lanky skeleton. But there’s two approaches to it at the moment: in the UK, they’ve raised weight limits across the profession. In the rest of the world, where jockey weights are still around 118lbs, jockeys just get recruited to wealthy countries.

Killie races in the UK and there’s a slight problem now. He was initially formed in the 1990s by a child who did NOT want him to have an eating disorder, and therefore, I waved my hand and said that he’s 4’10”, the same size as Julie Krone (Triple Crown winner) and Willie Shoemaker (said to be the best American jockey of all time). This was realistic then, but might be a problem now.

The UK has some of the highest permitted jockey weights in the world, and is the stronghold of steeplechasing (jump racing) which allows the highest weights of all. In 2025 a UK jump jockey can now be 160 lbs, with a minimum floor of 140 (including gear) meaning that a jump jockey needs a minimum riding weight of around 133 lbs(this can include as much lead weight as they need.) Underweight jockeys make up their weight to the assigned number by adding lead weights in the weight cloth, which is absolutely normal, although less desirable than living weight; and handicapping adds extra dimensions; but Killie could realistically jump at close to an average weight, and no longer needs to be extra-tiny to be a flat-and-jump jockey.

The last two UK lightweight jockeys of the old school both just retired Autumn 2024. They were quite successful until the end, and it’s clear that there’s an advantage to their frames - even now and even in the UK - but you can see that at their retirements they had gone from archetypal-jockey-type to outlier-among-the-young-bloods. Killie was intended to have the same build: if he was a person aging at normal rates, he would have been in his 20s when created by a dumb kid in the 90s, and exactly this age (50s) now. Instead, if he’s in his 30s now, he was now probably born around 1990 - and would be the short outlier!

(The UK’s “last lightweight jockeys”, born in the 1970s. Left, Jimmy Quinn (centre, yellow silk) Irish flat jockey with colleagues; centre photo Franny Norton, English flat jockey with sports physiologists; right, Franny Norton, having also been a boxer, showing a child how to box. Jimmy and Franny both retired Autumn 2024, hailed as “the last of the UK’s great lightweight jockeys.” They were both very short, very muscular, very successful and rode healthily into their fifties. The younger jockeys on the left would be considered smaller than average people, but are noticeably in the lankier-framed modern style.)

However. That’s the UK, and its heavier jockeys, higher weight limits and its overarching steeplechase obsession. The rest of the world prefers flat racing, and is stuck firmly on basically the same weight limit as the 1990s, of about 118 lbs. Killie might now be well-below-average for UK steeplechasers; but to ride the most famous flat races in the world, he’s comfortable. He could easily and healthily do the big famous flat races - Japan Cup! Kentucky Derby! - where steeplechasers are limited to very few races.

So given that the UK steeplechasing has pulled away from the rest of the world, we might have to either make Killie a bit taller to keep up with that, or let him focus on international flat racing. ANYWAY, that’s just to say that that’s the immediate impact of rising average heights on Killie as a character.

So how do the flat-racing nations manage to get their tiny jockeys?

Japan pulls from a population that, statistically, has more people who are able to match the weight requirements.

France seems to naturally produce enough little guys to export excesses to the USA. Flavien Prat, who is 5’1” and wins a lot, is one of those.

For better or worse, the USA relies heavily on jockeys from other countries, particularly Latin America. You can draw your own conclusions about colonial power and land justice from this. But on the personal level there is significant representation from Puerto Rico (Irad Ortiz Jr, John R Velasquez) and countries like Panama, the Dominican Republic, Peru, and Mexico. When you subtract French and LatAm riders from the top lists in the USA, you’re left with a few American generational jockeys.

Australian horse racing annoys me so much I don’t even want to touch on them or acknowledge them!! There is a problem with indentured child jockeys around the world, but Australia really kicked this up a notch.

Aotearoa / NZ is not a prominent racing nation, but you know how in the LotR films, most of the Riders of Rohan were women because that’s who the most competent local equestrians were? 40% of their jockeys are women, apparently!

Today, the UAE tends to operate through the UK training system, recruiting UK/EU jockeys. In the past they had widely-reported child jockey and kidnapping scandals.

Ireland is known for producing generational jockeys (Killie’s from a fictional “racing dynasty.”) By nature and nurture or both, they’ll probably keep doing this. Small parents don’t necessarily produce small people, of course, but horse-obsessed families tend to produce horse-obsessed people.

So it’s hard to say! Setting higher weight limits like the UK would offer more talent, but then again, Extracting Immigrant Labour is the system working as intended. the sport itself is declining in most countries, with millennials and everyone after being pretty uninterested.

Killie’s a special little guy, staring into the distance while “Last of My Kind” by Shaboozey plays

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(1) There are only a handful of horse-racing countries outside of the Anglosphere and France, where Duern is the only out gay jockey. Japan - whose racing association is famously controlling of the public image of its jockeys - doesn’t have any English-language gossip about them being LGBTQ. I don’t know much about the Hong Kong racing scenes ditto; homosexuality is illegal in the United Arab Emirates. The other nations of the world produce jockeys, and occasionally horses, but don’t host the grade 1 world famous cups that make them major players.

#jockeyposting 🏇#this is SO LONG #thank you and sorry #Killie #Killie and Derek #god!!!!! the DRAMA of Killie coming out #first off he will have to Destroy His Family which he will probably enjoy.#then he’ll have to bite people.#then he’ll round indiscrimnately on a perfectly nice gay person for calling him gay because he ISNT #when dragged off that guy like a terrier being dragged away from a dead rat he will immediately bite his rescuers #he is simultaneously cancelled and celebrated by every possible faction on social media throughout all this but he doesn’t know this #touch grass? Killie slams himself into grass at 30mph and walks away holding his own bones. don’t talk to him about grass.#after a while out of SHEER spite and the genuine love of his brother and boyfriend #Killie wears a pride badge to something having been told that it isn’t about HIM it’s about making other people feel safe #and while there probably influences some small child who says it does make them feel braver!#after biting the handlers that made the kid feel sad Killie simply steams forth with pride badges #and is thereafter Woke. in the worst and scrungliest possible way.

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lucysarah-c · 2 days ago

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I'll just say, I may be here posting about Mounting Spring, asks etc... But I'm cooking... I'm cooking something everyone asked me for lol

“I like this! This 3D flower pattern is so on trend right now.”

Levi’s eyes were glued to the screen as a freshly painted nail was shown up close.

“Oh, hi! Thank you,” her voice popped up again, and like an animal in pure confusion, he tilted his head to the side.

What are those things popping up? He was completely lost.

“Isn’t it too late for coffee?” she read aloud before grabbing her cup and taking a sip from the straw. “There’s no such thing as too much black or too late for coffee. Plus, it’s girls’ night! What’s a girls’ night without iced coffee or a glass of wine?”

This feels wrong now, Levi thought, taking a sip of his own drink, lazily sprawled on his bed. But when she started showing off her pajamas, that’s when he lost it.

Holy shit... it’s the little shorts doing it for me.

“This is why kids these days have their eyes glued to this shit,” he muttered, almost offended— as if his own mouth wasn’t slightly open and his eyes weren’t stuck to the screen as she vibed to the song playing in the background.

“Have you ever tried… this one?” She winked at the camera, arm in the air, hips moving in a way that Levi quickly guessed was meant to simulate riding. Over the kitchen island.

…I’m definitely not better than a 12-year-old boy.

The chat flooded with messages about how much they loved the song.

Whose song is this?

“Oh! I love that! Ugh, my heart is divided, I want all of them to win! Birds of a Feather is so good, but Hot to Go?” she gushed, listing more names Levi didn’t recognize.

Who are those?

“And the dance?”

What trend? What song? What dance?

Levi felt lost. Completely lost.

“Oh, thank you for the donation! Here, a heart for you!”

She pressed two fingers together in the shape of a heart. Levi tilted his head again, frowning.

How the hell is that a heart?

But before he could keep questioning his entire existence—or, perhaps, his age—her expression shifted. The usual bright smile faded as she read something from the chat.

“Look, if you’ve got a problem with me, just keep scrolling, buddy. Can an admin ban him from the stream, please?”

That made Levi do the exact opposite. He scrolled up through the rapidly moving chat until he found the comment in question. Some idiot had said she owed it to him if something happened because of what she was wearing and doing on screen.

“What’s your fucking problem, dude?” Levi whispered, clicking his tongue. “If a woman has never even touched you, don’t say it so loudly.”

His fingers moved on their own, pressing the guy’s username, looking for a way to reply—until he suddenly let the phone drop onto his chest and stared at the ceiling.

“I need to calm down,” he muttered. Being in this live stream was already too much for him. Getting into an online argument was not the way to go.

How long had he been watching? He wasn’t sure. But in that time, he’d learned that ASMR meant tapping on objects with freshly done nails and whispering, that people voted on live which designs she should do next, and… a whole lot more.

“Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know. That’s me, espresso…”

She sang along to the music, and he felt hypnotized.

“…Did I just spend two hours of my life on this?”

The “Love ya!” came through the speakers as she blew a final kiss before ending the live.

“For fuck’s sake…” Levi muttered, almost offended. “You can’t be that stupidly cute.”

Maybe pop songs were popular for a reason. Maybe that’s why Levi never downloaded any apps on his phone or used it for anything beyond strictly necessary texts. Because explain to him why the hell he was humming at work.

“Since when do you know Sabrina Carpenter?”

Hange appeared out of nowhere, catching him off guard.

Levi had to come up with an excuse. Fast.

“What? Is it illegal for me to know new songs?”

“No…” Hange dragged the word out, squinting at him in suspicion. “But since when do you?”

“Give me a break. I’m not that old. I can get to know new artists,” he brushed it off while brewing himself a tea.

Hange let it slide, but their mind was already working, scheming. They kept talking, mostly about work. But as Levi finished his tea and was ready to leave, Hange casually dropped:

“Espresso?”

Levi frowned. “What?”

Hange repeated the question immediately, as if he hadn’t heard them the first time. But of course, he had.

“Fuck no. You know I hate coffee. Black tea,” he grumbled.

To his shock, Hange chuckled, shaking their head, biting their lip as they held back a knowing smile.

“Aww, Shortie… don’t give yourself away.”

“Huh?”

“Espresso. That’s the song you were humming.” Their grin widened. “I’m starting to think you’re not just listening to new artists—you’re watching new people.”

Levi stiffened.

And for the first time, he couldn’t hide the subtle embarrassed blush creeping up his face.

“Get off my ass,” he muttered, already walking away.

But Hange wasn’t done.

“And I think it might be Erwin’s cute little influencer friend!”

I won't say anything else, let the readers figure it out.

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yeonmuse · 2 days ago

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EN-Drama Heeseung’s sequel please (it’d be great to have smut and angst, HE or BE anything is good 😊)

- I love you

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Lee Heeseung ── 𝒢enre. Smut. fluff, Angst non idol enha. not proofread. Wc 4.2k feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary

authors notes. I hope this is to your liking, I’ve been lacking the motivation to write lately so everything I have written as of late I’ve felt love it’s been lackluster. I’ve started and deleted this at least 4 times so I’m hoping this final draft will be worth the read.

IN WHICH an old crush makes their way back into Heeseungs life and old feelings start to spark

🔖 @jwonistic @bubblytaetae @pkjay @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @lillotus17 @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @sol3chu @right-person-wrong-time @riribelle

“I dont wanna be in love with another even in another life”

Heeseung had been the quiet type, he’d found delight in sitting alone or spending his time in the serenity of his own peace. Though many found him boring due to his silence and nonchalant attitude he had fit in quite perfectly with his friends. Six guys that he had known so long it felt as if he’d known them his entire life, it had been hard to picture times when they hadn’t been there. As much as Heeseung had loved being alone, they made his life all the more enjoyable.

Heeseung was quite the simple guy, so while many of the girls in school had found him attractive they’d also found him extremely boring. Soon enough rumors had gone around the entire school that not only was he boring in a general sense, but that he’d also been completely vanilla when it came to sleeping with him. Though Heeseung was unsure how the rumors had ever started, considering he’d never even been with any of the girls at school, or any girl for that matter. He shrugged it off as he would everything else, people were going to talk, people were going to assume things about him regardless of whether or not it was confirmed or denied by him.

That exact same aura seemed to trail Heeseung from his high school days, to university and onto his fully adult life. He often found himself thinking back to the days when things were far more simple, When he and the others had no worries and no responsibility.

Heeseung was quickly snapped out of his thoughts as he heard someone tapping at the glass of the studio. Though it may not have been where Heeseung had exactly seen himself after high school, his new job had been a start. He’d luckily scored a job at a radio station in the city and had been working it for nearly a year.

“You’ve got a call in the main office, seemed urgent?”

“Who was it?”

“Don’t know they just said that they were looking for you and seemed like it was something important. I'll take over until you’re back.” Heeseungs brows crease together as Sohee pats at his back, sending him off to answer the phone. It wasn’t like his friends to call when they knew he was at work. Though when Heeseung had answered the phone he was surprised to hear, not the voice of his friends, but an old acquaintance he and the others hadn’t heard from since the day they’d left to go overseas.

That was exactly why Heeseung found himself sitting at a big round table waiting for the others to arrive, the last time all of them had gathered together being valentine's day of last year, but since then they’d all kept in touch but had been tackling their own endeavors.

Heeseung hadn’t exactly been sure what to feel about seeing one person in particular after so long. The girl he’d found himself falling for long ago, the first girl that had captured his heart, but she had also been the one that got away.

She had come to him at a time it seemed that no one bothered to understand him. There had even been times where he felt even those closest to him wouldn’t understand the works of his mind like he’d wanted. Though she was the one that stayed, the one that listened to him even when he had nothing to say, she’d waited. One of the first in his life that weren’t his friends to actually stay and try and get closer, not because of his looks but because she was interested to know the world of his mind.

Though back then when he had finally thought he’d been getting closer to her, everything had seemed to fall apart, others had grown feelings for her and complications had arisen that had made him give up on pursuing her. Looking back on it though he found it quite ridiculous that the seven of them had gotten themself into such a mess but sometimes it made him laugh.

He had now seemed to be the odd man out other than Jay and Jungwon who chose to focus on their careers rather than relationships. Leaving only him who hadn’t eventually known where he wanted to go with his love life, he never approached anyone and his calm and aloof demeanor made others too anxious to approach him themselves.

Soon enough the others had joined him, all of them catching up with one another and reminiscing on old memories with one another. Remembering the times they’d all shared with one another before they’d gone their separate ways. The conversation had been full of laughs and smiles, though the atmosphere slightly shifted the moment she’d walked in.

“Eunjin”

The moment she’d entered the building it was like some form of magnetic attraction, his eyes had found her in an instant. Taking in how much she had changed in the five years that none of them had seen her, he thought he’d gotten over it but the moment his eyes had set on her he felt his heart beat again for the first time.

It was like in the movies when time would stop and cherry blossoms would come raining down on the protagonists. She was always beautiful, though the amount of growth and maturity level she’d possessed now was inevitably visible. The only thing that he could say hadn’t changed about her was her height, he was sure if he’d stood from his seat he’d still tower over her just as he had all that time ago.

Upon hearing her name spill from his lips the others turned until their eyes found her sauntering over to their table. The reason for them all having gathered there in the first place.

“It’s been a while.” There it was that sweet voice that had once been like music to his ears, it had all the memories and emotions he once felt for her flooding back in.

The night carried on smoothly, it was as if the group had missed no time with one another, each of them reliving moments in their life and the others listening and reminiscing as if they themselves had been with one another through every step. Heeseung found himself a little far too immersed whenever she’d speak. He’d wanted to know everything, everything she’d come to like, hate or be interested in within the last five years. He found that that spark she had once lit within him long ago was returning upon having her say there before him.

Eventually the gathering had slowly come to a halt as everyone had either gone home, or had other inquiries that kept them from staying longer, which meant that left Heeseung and Eunjin alone. Since the restaurant had neared closing time the two had decided to continue their conversation on a stroll through the city.

“You look good seung.” The first words to leave her mouth upon the two of them being left alone. His heart had been thumping so hard in his chest he’d sworn hee could hear it beating in his ears.

“Still as pretty as ever, haven't grown much.” He teases, earning a laugh from her that made his heart shake in his chest.

“It really is nice to see you again, all of you. I found all of the notes you’d all left for me and the old candy wrappers from all of those chocolates you’d brought to class to share.” She laughs, brushing her hair behind her ear as she pulls out an old folded piece of paper. Heeseung couldn’t deny that he recognized it, after all he’d written it himself.

“Ah right, the letters. Guess we all embarrassed ourselves at that time?” He chuckles, forcing honestly to hold back a wince at the absolute cringe worthy memory.

“I thought it was sweet, though it was a little overwhelming. I just thought I’d ever expected all seven of you to confess to one another. It did make things a little confusing.”

“I guess we just all thought we were doing the right thing, not being selfish.”

“If you all had known my feelings would that have changed anything?”

“What do you..mean?”

“If you all had known how I’d felt about each of you then would it have made a difference? Would you have confessed then?” As she stops and turns to look at him, her eyes scanning him curiously, he himself didn’t know what to say, it prompted him to take a moment and think.

“I can’t speak for others, but if I’d known your feelings…if you’d liked anyone else then things would have remained the same. Though if the feelings you had were for me then..I’d have not given up as easily as I had.”

“What about now?” Heeseung had completely frozen in place, her words having caused his body to completely shut down right where he stood.

“What if I told you now how I felt then?” Her eyes seemed to scan him for any sort of signs that she should speak no further, but he remained locked in place.

“If I had told you I liked you then would things have been different now? If I'd told you the moment we ran into one another outside of the nurses office then where would we be now?”

Heeseungs thoughts had been circling his brain like the sun and moon orbiting earth. Hearing something from her he’d thought he’d gotten past years ago. Though now hearing those words spilled from her lips it was as if he’d been reliving the emotions he once felt all over again.

“So you’re saying..”

“That i’d have chosen you Heeseung, if things had been different and only you had confessed..I’d have accepted your confession.”

“What about the others?”

“We were friends, just like I’d told you all last time we spoke. I’d never want to compromise the friendship each of you had with one another or myself. After each of you had given a letter I thought it was best I rejected all of you.”

“So all this time it was me?” She nods in response, leaving Heeseung somewhat dumbfounded by the revelation. Of course it was something he had pictured countless times but he’d never seen it actually happening.

Closing the space between the two of them she steps closer to him, her boba eyes staring straight into him.

“Though it’s 5 years late, is it too late to say that I like you Lee Heeseung? That you were the one that got away.”

As if it had been natural, his fingers reflexively tangled within her hair, pushing the loose strands from her face behind her ear.

“Mm 5 years is a long time but I’m sure we could work it out.” He responds playfully, making her laugh as she leans in to wrap her arms around his waist.

From that day on Heeseung had found himself smiling more. She's encouraged him to be the best version of himself that he could be. She was the reason he’d gone into work with a smile on his face every day. How could he not wake up with a smile when he’d get to wake up and see her beautiful face on his phone every morning. It had taken five years for him to take her on a proper date but it had been completely worth the wait, their first date leading to months of then being together. In his eyes it was all perfect, there was no way he could have known the secrets she’d been keeping from him. The true reason that she had gathered them all together, the real reason she had decided to finally confess all the things she’d once felt.

“Heeseung I need to pack for my flight tonight, I won’t get anything done if you don’t let go.”

Heeseung had been holding onto her waist, his face buried into her back as his other hand rested upon her hip.

“You could always just stay home, I’m sure that work could wait another day, they can’t open an exhibit without the artist.” Heeseung responds, his voice muffled against the nape of her neck as he speaks. Only pulling his face away momentarily as he scoops her up and carries her over to the bed

“As much as i’d love to stay and lie around with you I can’t push off this event Seung, I’m running out of time.”

“You say that as if they could open the place without you.” He responds hovering over her, his arms caging her in and trapping her against the bed, forcing her to give in and succumb to his temptations.

“I know they can’t, but I’ve been waiting for this moment, Heeseung, I can’t push this off further than saturday.” Heeseung responds with soft hums as he begins to press soft loving kisses against her exposed skin. His hand slipped past her crop top until it rested against the bare skin of her stomach.

She was already quite familiar with this tactic of his by now, he’d always found ways to distract her whether that be with his sweet kisses or something far more dirty and pornographic like shoving his fingers so deep into her cunt that she was a complete mess, agreeing to everything he’d said.

“Well if you’re going to go, I’ll make sure I’ll leave some art of my own since I can’t join you.”

That was all that needed to be said before he had his lips on her skin once more and she had her fingers tangled in his hair. As he peppered slow, loving kisses along her neck and chest she couldn’t help but feel true peace in that moment of being with him.

Heeseung completely worshiped the ground she walked on.

To him she was completely intoxicating, her scent, her voice, her body, her touch; All of it was like his drug. Bringing her hand to his lips he placed loving kisses from her wrist up to her shoulder, a gesture that made the butterflies in her stomach go frantic . He felt the way her body relaxed and temperature had risen at the contact and it went without saying he was satisfied with the reaction. A reaction he had earned from her countless times yet would never tire of it.

Soft hums spilled from his lips, as he began to undress her while adorning her beautiful skin with kisses. It wasn't until she felt his fingertip trail down the soft skin of her stomach that the urge to be entangled with him had become more urgent. As Heeseungs fingers slipped beneath her pajama bottoms and past her underwear her body shivers. She’d no time to register his actions because before she’d known he had already been rubbing circles around her clit. Heeseung was absolutely content with this moment, having earned soft moans from her, watching as her hand clasped onto his wrist.

The way her back arched and her nails dug into his soft skin. The combination of her moans and her soft skin against his tongue was enough to drive him mad. He had barely even touched her yet her body had already been so responsive. He knew it would only be a handful of seconds until his name would spill from her lips in that sweet melodic tone like always. Seconds later he slipped in two fingers, taking the time to stretch her out and feel her out before he began to thrust them in and out slowly. Her desperate whining for him to move them faster only causes him to slow them down, he was completely blinded by his desire to hear his baby from her lips once more. The way his name fell from her lips always sounded so sweet.

“Seung, baby please, please my love.'' She’d choke out, her words barely audible but it was good enough for him because no matter how she’d said it the sound of his name from her lips was something he always loved to hear. Slipping in yet another finger he watched the way her expressions changed as he thrust them into her with feverish haste. He wanted desperately to read her thoughts and know the desires that swam around her pretty head when he had her like this, but it seemed that at the moment nothing was there. She was completely consumed by the mere thought of him and all the things that he was now doing to her.

“So beautiful, everything about you is so fucking beautiful, your smile, your eyes, your hair your voice.” His hand roamed over her body, leaving a fiery feeling over every place he’d touched. A touch that always left her longing for more no matter how many times she felt it.

He on the other hand always found delight in the way she squirmed and her body convulsed when he continued to stretch her out and pump his fingers inside of her. His eyes caught her gaze as he stopped to remove his fingers and bring them to his lips.

Her boba eyes that were usually so cute and sweet, now full of devilish desires that’d make angels weep. As sweet as she’d tasted there was nothing sweeter than the sound of her begging and pleading for him to give her more. So this time rather than shove his fingers deep into her clit he finds himself scooping her legs up and going between her thighs. His eyes gazed up at her beautiful face as he left kisses and hickeys on her inner thighs before sinking his teeth into them. His action earned a small yelp from her before and a tug on his dark locks as her fingers grasped at his hair. He was taking his time with her this morning, he needed all the time in the world to worship her before she’d leave, to treat her body like a goddess that only he could touch.

Heeseungs eyes remained glued to her seconds after his lips met her clit, the lewd sounds that spilled from her mouth following his actions made him desperate to hear more. His tongue slithered past her folds and as her head fell back against the bed he thought he’d go crazy at the sight. The blissed out look on her face and the way she’d pulled at his hair. Every now and then pushing his face deeper between her thighs it made his hunger for her all the more insatiable.

''So pretty like this, my beautiful work of art, so fucking beautiful.'' While his tongue abused her clit, he slipped in two fingers, stretching her out and shoving his tongue further than before. He gave her no time to respond before he was attacking the heat between her legs as if he himself was desperate to touch her just as she was for him to touch her.

Her fingers tugged at his dark locks as his tongue played with your sensitive cunt. It was a feeling she had felt time and time again with him but each time it seemed to be all the more pleasurable. The way his tongue and lips attacked her clit so vigorously made her thighs tremble. Having sensed her body's attempts to lock his head between her thighs, Heeseung immediately forces them back down against the bed. Her moans like music to his ears, simply hearing the way she whines and cries out for him and him only. As if he had been watching a film his eyes locked onto her, admiring her expressions as her face contorted at the pleasure. The moment he felt you clench around his tongue and fingers he became well aware that you were reaching your breaking point.

"Go ahead baby let it out.'' he hums against her, his face still buried between her thighs and as she squirms beneath him. Then finally she came on his tongue he couldn't help but stare up at you proudly.

“That’s one.” Heeseung had given her nooo time to breathe before he’d been switching her positions preparing her for a near endless session with him before she’d need to rest and pack for her long night that awaited.

Heeseung traced circles on her bare skin as she rested against his chest. Having fallen asleep after their earlier escapades, she’d needed all the rest she could get before she had to get up and pack to catch her flight.

Heeseung couldn’t help but stare at her sleeping frame proudly. The girl he’d thought he let get away had come back to him, and was now all his.

The sun had been peeking through the curtains and Heeseung sighs remembering that he’d have to go without seeing his beautiful girl for three days. She’d only gone last night but it had already felt as if she had been gone a lifetime.

Forcing himself out of bed he made his way into the bathroom, readying himself for the day ahead, that he knew would drag on since he would be returning home and see wouldn’t be there.

His day had gone on normal, as per usual he’d enter the studio, starting off with simple beats and tracks he’d thrown together for his artists. Everything seemingly in place until his phone vibrates in his pocket and a smile lights up his face as he sees her name appear on the front screen. A smile that had gone as quick as it had come as he answered and heard another woman’s voice on the other line. It was as if life had completely slowed and his heart had stopped beating in his chest, surely what he was hearing was a joke, some sort of twisted, sick joke or ploy to get him to fly there and hold her in his arms. No matter how much he tried to spin it, how hard he tried to deny what he’d heard, it all became far too real the moment he’d stepped off a plane and into a New York City hospital.

Heeseung had felt numb the moment he’d entered the place. He couldn’t register that anything that had happened beyond the phone call, had even been real. He sat on the opposite side of the glass watching as they covered his girlfriend's body.

“Lee Heeseung?” Heeseungs eyes met the nurses, no life behind them after having just realized he’d never get to hold his girlfriend in his arms again beyond this point.

“I know this may not be the best time, but she left this for you. I’ll leave you alone to open it.” After placing a box into his hands the nurse had left him alone.

It was a small box, inside was a letter and a few other things tied together with a fuzzy white string. Up until now Heeseung had completely held it together, that was until he pulled the letter from the box and could no longer stop the tears from spilling from his eyes as he read.

Heeseung,

If you’re reading this then, it means I finally was able to open my heart to you. I’m not as good with letters as you and the others but, I want you to know that I love you. I love all of you but especially you. I’ve loved you since then too, since the day I found you sat in the classroom with the others and you accepted the candy I'd given you even though you absolutely hated sweets then. When i’d gathered you all that day it wasn’t simply because I wanted to see you all that day, I’ve known for some time now that I didn’t have much time. Though I didn't know when I knew eventually I’d go and that you all would never hear from me again. I simply wanted to see you all one last time. Though I found myself being far happier than I could have ever imagined with you. My heart is now so full of you I could hardly know my own. I know that this is selfish of me, allowing myself to love you and you to love me when I know that the outcome can only cause you pain, but I wanted the chance to love you before I’d never get to love again. I’m sorry to leave you in such a way but I let my selfishness get the best of me. I hope that you will continue to live in Heeseung, to live without me even though you’ve waited so long to have me as yours.

Paper clipped behind the letter was a ticket. A ticket in which Heeseung had hesitated to use for days to put to use. He had become so numb that nothing mattered and eventually he had completely forgotten about it until he had been helping his mom clear things from her old art studio.

Though the date on the ticket was long gone and had expired, he’d finally put it to use. Putting his grief aside he found himself standing outside of the building where she had just opened her exhibit. As he stepped inside every one of his emotions had come crashing down as he’d found himself not only surrounded by art, but art that had symbolized the love the two of them had shared in just those four months alone, for every art piece had tied to a memory of hers

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madthetruemad · 1 day ago

Text

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 21 | I Know

You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

Fic Masterlist

“So instead of you bringing back your sister…”

“Jing Yuan brought back you, well, not immediately like I would have done for Robin, but he still brought you back nonetheless. But, by doing so he committed a grave sin. Usually one with such power would become an aeon like I had planned to, but instead he rejected that and became mara-struck. Though, by giving you life again he has gained abilities of his own…”

“And that was to rewind time.”

“Correct.”

“Then how did you interfere with my amnesia plan this time?”

“He may be able to rewind time, but he can’t control everything, so I took it upon myself to strike while he was rewinding it.”

“Does he realize that I’m-“

“No, but he probably feels that connection with you. It’s the exact reason why he hasn’t killed you yet this time. Because he’s trying to figure out why you are so important to him and why he feels like he has lost something every time he has killed you.”

You closed your eyes and turned away from Sunday, “and what about me and Blade…? Are we to be used for your plans?”

“That is also correct. I plan to use your soul and body to bring Robin back while using Blade’s for mine.”

“I won’t let you.”

“I know.”

You turned back towards him, “and yet you still sound so confident.”

He smiled at you, “my allies are far greater than yours.”

You smirked at him then, “but none of your allies are Jing Yuan.”

“Y/n, what are you-“

You dismissed him with a flick of your wrist, his form disappearing easier than you ever thought as you quickly got ready and headed straight for your door.

“Princess?!”

Gepard sounded surprised as you burst through your door, Blade was there too his eyes widening a fraction as you motioned for them.

“Hurry along you two, time is a wasting!”

You hiked up your skirts as you began to run down the halls.

“Princess! Don’t run! You’ll fall!”

You merely smiled behind you as you told them to just catch up to you as you ran. The maids were as surprised as Gepard as they saw you and your two gaurds chase you down the hallway.

“Where’s the Emperor,” you called ack to Blade.

“The training grounds.”

You took a left at the mention of the training grounds. It should be near the stables and fields right?

Panting slightly, you took two steps at a time when you came to the stairs and began descending them.

“Princess, what are you-“

Dan Heng, a face you haven’t seen for awhile, but was grateful to see now, was at the end of the stairs.

“Perfect! You’re coming along too!”

You grabbed his hand just as you reached the bottom and pulled him along. The force and speed at which you were going surprised him as you easily pulled him with you. Gepard and Blade were still following behind you.

“Where are we going?!”

“To the Emperor!”

It felt like a race almost as the four of you headed to the training grounds, but when you finally made it, you didn’t once stop as you searched the crowd of knights. Your eyes bouncing from person to person as you held onto Dan Heng’s hand.

“Over there, princess,” Gepard finally said causing you to tear your gaze to where he was pointing and holy shi-

You have to pinch yourself because you must be dreaming!

Squinting, you rubbed your eyes with your free hand. Jing Yuan was standing with a group of soldiers. His armor was placed off to the side and his shirt- what type of shirt was that?! It hugged his chest and back so snuggly and you could practically see every single outline of his muscles-

Dan Heng coughed, “focus, princess, focus.”

Shaking your, you nodded, “I’ll try, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

As you walked over to him, Jing Yuan noticed you immediately, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes which confused you slightly. Was he- was he mad at you? But… you haven’t even done anything yet.

“Yuan-“

He cut you off by gently tucking a stray hair behind your ear before turning his gaze to Dan Heng, “you will let go of her hand before I slice it off, won’t you?”

Dan Heng was quick to let go and bow his head, “I apologize, Emperor,” which caused you to step in front of him, “I’m sorry Yuan, I was the one who grabbed his hand first.”

“And yet he held onto you anyway.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as he patted your head.

“Nonetheless, princess, you’re meeting me earlier than expected, did something happen?”

You glanced at his soldiers to which he got the hint and dismissed them.

You need Jing Yuan as an ally, and you need to stop Sunday.

But… what will stop Jing Yuan from striking you down?

“Sunday has been … talking to me, and I don’t actually have amnesia.”

“Oh? Is that all?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “… and I’m your past lover that you brought back.”

Jing Yuan was still running his hand through your hair, that eerie smile still on his face, “I know.”

What.

“Though, I will admit, I didn’t know that you were my past lover,” Jing Yuan mumbled as he bent down to kiss your forehead, “that all became clear to me when I went to visit Herta and Ruan Mei this morning after I kissed you. They were quite insightful when they finally cured that Mara that has been ailing me for quite some time now…”

You didn’t know who those two were, but you didn’t care to ask, not right now at least, “so if you know, then-“

He pressed his finger to your lips, “you should let me worry about Sunday alone, however,” his eyes lingered on the key around your neck, “I will be taking that from you.”

His other hand stopped running through your hair and went to your neck, and with a single, hard yank he had easily snapped the necklace off.

“Yuan-“

“Y/n.”

You stopped what you were about to say and looked up at him.

“The engagement is off, you should hurry back home to your father.”

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

#There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair #hsr #honkai star rail #emperor jing yuan x reader #emperor jing yuan x princess reader #emperor jing yuan #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x y/n

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wolfypup65676 · 2 days ago

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Had to come back to this because I just couldn't stop thinking about this idea... -- Peter shivered, pulling his ratty hoodie tighter around him. He took a quick glimpse at his phone's map and looked up at the awfully tall gate.

Gotham Cemetary

He shoved his phone in his pocket and rubbed his hands together, trying to heat them up a bit. He was starting to regret coming out here, it was dark and cold, and Peter was dead broke and couldn't thermoregulate properly--

But he had to see him. Peter had to see Uncle Ben for himself, had to see his grave. Even if he wasn't Benjamin Parker anymore, even if he was a whole lot younger than Peter had ever known him, even if Jason Todd wasn't really his uncle, Peter had never been able to deny himself of his biggest regret, had never been able to wash his hands clean of the man who raised him for a whopping 10 years.

Peter had to see it, had to see him, because he had nothing else.

He grabs onto the gate, shuddering at the coldness of the iron bars, and he climbs. Carefully, he climbed down the other side.

The cemetery was full of graves and spindly trees, leaves gone in preparation of the upcoming harsh winter. Peter's teeth chattered, winter, right, he forgot about that.

Why did he have to come here during winter? Why could've he have dropped in during, oh, he doesn't know, spring?!

Focus, Peter. He takes a deep breath. We're here to see Uncle Ben, and nothing else. Worry about how to survive later.

The graves and trees surrounding him were imposing, staring at him, as if knowing he wasn't meant to be here. Peter hunched in on himself more, guilt gnawing at his heart.

You don't belong here, they seemed to say, why are you here?

His walk came to a stop as he finally spotted what, or rather, who, he was looking for.

Here lies Jason Todd

Peter crouched in front of the grave, hand hovering over the words. His face crumbled and he could feel the weight of everything crashing into him like a bullet train.

"Hey, Uncle Ben." He said, voice cracking. "How have you been?"

He could almost imagine it, could see Benjamin Parker staring at him with worry in his eyes, mouth forming soundless words.

"Peter?" He would say, hovering over Peter like if he moved too suddenly, he would break. "Why are you at my grave, kid? What's wrong?"

"I know you don't know me, but I'm your nephew."

Uncle Ben would take him into his arms and offer to talk, or to read one of the classics sitting on the bookshelf if he didn't feel like talking.

Peter wondered if Jason Todd would hug him the same way. Would he look at Peter with the same, overwhelming love in his eyes?

"I'm Peter Parker, it's nice to meet you, this you." Peter settles in the dirt. "I guess I should call you Uncle Jason, shouldn't I?"

Or maybe, this Jason would look at him like he's a monster. Eyes wrack full of disappointment to the person that Peter's become.

"I really hope you like me, but it's okay if you don't." Peter stares at his hands, "I just... I didn't know where else to go."

The grave remains silent. But if Peter focuses hard enough, he could pretend Uncle Ben was there, tugging him into his side, reassuring him that he could come visit him whenever he wanted.

"I'm homeless, dead broke, I have no idea where I am or anything about this place, and did I mention I'm like, five?" Peter laughs at his own misery "You'd think life would give me a break! Stupid Parker Luck."

Peter got up and brushed the dirt off his jeans, but he couldn't bring himself to leave, because leaving meant leaving Uncle Ben and the little bubble of comfort he always provided. Leaving meant going back into Gotham, cold, alone, and starving.

He knows he should leave. He knows it's a horrible idea to stay here, where anyone could find him out in the open. He'd be exposing himself to the elements and he should really be finding a place to stay. But he couldn't help but feel like a little kid again, crawling into Uncle Ben and Aunt May's bed as he sobbed about his parent's death, afraid to be left alone.

"Hey... Uncle Jason?" He murmurs, "Do you think I could stay with you? Just for tonight? It doesn't have to be long! I'll leave before the sun rises, I promise."

It's a horrible idea, he keeps telling himself. Yet he can't stop himself from curling up next to Uncle Ben's, Uncle Jason's grave.

"Just... let me sleep for a little while." He says, vision starting to blur and darken.

"Go to sleep, Peter." He could imagine Uncle Ben saying, "I'll keep you safe from the monsters, promise."

And Peter goes to sleep.

DC/Marvel Peter Parker in Gotham AU where Dick Grayson is Peter's bio dad, and Jason is Uncle Ben.

Peter finds himself in another world where Ben exists only for him to be dead here too. Peter is lost, alone in a world he knows nothing about and has no one to talk to. Even if he starts making friends he can't tell them the truth about being from another universe. And yeah his bio parents exist here, but what is he supposed to tell them? He would just sound crazy, better to avoid them.

But he needs to talk to someone, so Jason's grave becomes a place where he can vent and reminisce.

#I will write more on this later #and I am most definitely writing jason's POV post-resurrection later #have this little brain worm #jason: who is this kid and why is he visiting me #jason after finding out peter’s his nephew: WHY IS NOBODY TAKING CARE OF MY NEPHEW? DICK? WTF??#jason has has peter for a day but if anything happened to him he would kill everyone in gotham and then himself #peter parker in gotham #marvel x dc #jason todd #peter parker #jason todd is uncle ben #dick grayson is richard parker #dick grayson is peter parker’s dad #peter had been de-aged and he does not like it #he’s not having fun but tbh when is he ever #bruce doesn’t find out about peter yet #why? idk plot convenience #I wasn’t really thinking when I wrote this I just wrote it

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torturedtypewritersdept · 1 day ago

Text

earning your stripes - part two

✯ pairing:

racer!rafe cameron x fem sports reporter!reader

✯ summary:

sports reporter, y/n edwards, has the opportunity of a lifetime - interviewing nascar driver, rafe cameron. But, it may be a little bit more than she bargained for.

✯ warnings:

rafe is a sexy cocky bitch, reader is a queen, sexual innuendos, eventual smut, mature themes, rafe low key is a bitch, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

You kept thinking about Rafe after your initial interaction, but you weren’t going to let him know that and you weren’t going to go running back to your bosses crying about a boy being mean to you and refusing to interview him. Racing was already a predominantly male driven sport and that didn’t leave a lot of room for you at the table, but you had worked hard and become someone that every household recognized, they called you one of Nascar's leading women now and you were damn proud of that. You weren’t going to let some meat head race car driver convince you that you weren’t something special, even if he was beautiful and chiseled in all the right places and a leader on the track. Nope. You couldn’t go there. As dreamy as he was, he had ruined any amount of respect you’d initially had for him, simply by opening his mouth. You were brought out of your thoughts as your phone chirped, Alex’s name littering across the screen.

Green onion. Tonight 9pm.

You giggled at the text, knowing that she wouldn’t take no for an answer before you sent your reply.

Only if you wear something sexy ;)

Bitch, get real.

Her reply came with a quickness, just as you had expected and you giggled, knowing that Alex was always wearing something sexy and always, always going to look good in a bar on a friday night. You wished you could be more confident and carefree like she was.

Nine o’clock came quickly. You had wasted most of the day going over the stats of every driver in preparation for tomorrow’s race. By your account, Rafe was set to win tomorrow and Topper would probably come second or third. You liked those odds. Though, deep down if Rafe wasn’t as good of a driver, you might find him less sexy, which would be a good thing. You got up from your desk at 8:45pm, living close to downtown had its perks and not having to leave early for things was one of them. You dressed quickly in a black lacy tank top and low-rise jeans, curling your hair and throwing on a little bit of makeup before grabbing your purse and keys and heading out the door.

By the time you got to the bar, Alex was already about five drinks deep, as you’d expected. She always pre-gamed a little too hard, even when you were in college. You found her on top of a barstool drooling over a questionable looking man as he tucked her long black hair behind her ears.

“Mind if I cut in?”

You asked and she leapt up, squealing and pulling you in for a hug.

“It’s about time you got here, this guy is boring!”

She exclaimed.

“Alex, honey, be nice.”

You chastised her, though doing so in her drunken state you knew was a waste of time.

“Sorry.”

You mouthed to him and he just smiled and walked away, leaving you to tend to her antics by yourself.

“Wanna dance!”

She exclaimed in your ear and you merely nodded, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the dance floor. You danced for a brief moment, the dim light of the bar and the combination of the dj’s uplights created a feeling of ecstasy amidst the drinks that men in the bar kept supplying the two of you with. You continued to grind against Alex for about thirty minutes, the music bumping so violently that you could feel it under your feet. You walked out of the crowd and back to the bar for another drink when you ran into someone familiar.

“Hey, y/n.”

Topper said with a smile and you returned the gesture.

“Hi, Top. Who’re your friends?”

You questioned and he introduced them one by one.

“Guys – this is Nascar's leading lady, y/n.”

You blushed at Topper’s compliment. For a driver, he wasn’t half bad, he was even sweet to you most of the time.

“Y/n – this is Kyle, Corbin, Zack, and Rafe.”

You hadn’t even registered that the Rafe Topper was referring to was the same Rafe that you were trying so desperately to forget. Though, you probably should have; what kind of name is Rafe anyways? You remained polite as each boy said hello to you, returning the pleasantries and as your eyes met his, you swallowed thickly. He smiled that same shit eating grin and you pretended you didn’t know who he was. That’s what any self-respecting person would do in this situation, right?

“Nice to meet you guys!”

You exclaimed, tipping the drink in your hand and they returned the gesture, tipping their’s right back in your direction.

“So, Nascar’s leading lady, huh? How’d you wind up, racing?”

The one who’d introduced himself as Corbin asked and you giggled.

“Oh, I’m not a driver! I enjoyed it a long time ago – my dad got me into it. But, I’m a sport’s reporter now, so I report on just about all of you.”

At your revelation, Rafe almost spit out his drink, suddenly realizing who exactly you were and why you had probably made your way up to his garage the other night. Why had he made that stupid joke?

“Anyways, Top, I’m here with Alex so I better get back to her. I’ll see you tomorrow though.”

You said in a sweet sing-song voice before bringing him in for a hug.

“Alright, call me if you need anything.”

He said, rubbing the back of your hair. You nodded in response before pulling away and heading back to the dance floor where ALex was grinding on the man she had earlier been flirting with. Topper’s eyes lingered on your figure, making sure you got from point A to point B before tearing his eyes away.

“Topper, please tell me that’s not who I think it is.”

Rafe asked with bewildered eyes.

“Well, who do you think it is?”

Topper questioned.

“She’s the hot broadcaster, isn’t she? The one all the guys like?”

Rafe asked, fear lacing his normally overzealous and cocky tone.

“She’s more than that, but yeah, that’s the same girl. Why?”

Topper quickly responded.

“I. fucked. up. – Top.”

He muttered in a voice so low and choppy, enunciating the words in a tone so serious yet quiet that Topper almost didn’t catch what he said under the pressure of the music against his ears.

“What did you do this time?”

He questioned, annoyance lacing his tone.

“I may or may not have made a joke at her expense when she came to interview me the other day.”

Topper rolled his eyes in response.

“Rafe, what did you say to her?”

He growled, grinding his molars against each other.

“I may or may not have asked her if she was an escort?”

He replied sheepishly.

“God! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Topper was yelling at this point, so unabashedly ashamed of Rafe’s behavior and his incessant need to ruin everything. He found it comical really, the way Rafe had the ability to put his foot in his mouth within moments of meeting women; his douchebaggery could . Though, this time, it was at the expense of you – someone topper cared for deeply, and you – you weren’t just some girl in a bar.

“I was trying to be funny and she looked so sad, Topper.”

He replied, seemingly remorseful.

“Of course she did, you idiot! What? You thought she was going to be happy about that?”

He asked in an accusatory tone and Rafe could only glance between you and back to Topper, like a chastised dog.

“Rafe, you need to find a way to make it right. She’s sweet. Joke or not – she didn’t deserve to be made to feel like that.”

Topper growled.

“I promise, I will.”

Rafe muttered in response, tipping back the neck of the beer bottle as it met his lips.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @akobx @allsmilesreally7 @wtfdudesblog @urdreamgirl12 @hockeybabe87 @sereneera @annaconscience @pogueprincesa @bibissparkles @obxbigsis @jjmaybankmylovee @kulekehe

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron prompt #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafecore #rafe <3 #rafe cameron smut #earning your stripes <3 #racer!rafe x reader #racer!rafe #nascar!rafe

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gyu-tori · 11 hours ago

Text

A Slice of Temptation | K.TH

A BIRTHDAY SPECIAL

Pairing: idol!taehyunx fem idol!reader Genre: Smut and some fluff Warnings: Mature content, explicit language, food play, fingering, praising, teasing, kissing/making out, finger sucking (lots of it), unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it) , Taehyun calls reader baby, some dirty talk, others that I may have missed!!

Summary: What was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted filming for your idol segment quickly turns into something far more nerve-wracking when you're assigned to interview Taehyun for his birthday.

But the real surprise comes after filming, when he invites you to his dorm to "celebrate properly." Alone. Tension lingers in the air, thick and undeniable, until he finally decides to break it—one taste of sweetness at a time.

Word Count: 5.6k

The nerves had hit you the moment you stepped out of the elevator. Today was a big day—your first solo interview segment, and you were visiting the one and only TXT. The thought of being around your seniors especially on such a special day like Taehyun’s birthday, made your heart race.

You stood in front of their practice room, pacing slightly, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. The makeup artist had done a perfect job, your outfit was on point, and you were ready to film—but the looming presence of the boy group, especially Taehyun, had you second-guessing everything.

The PD-nim’s voice broke through your swirling thoughts, calling you over. “Y/N, we’re starting in 5! Ready?”

You gave a quick nod, though the nervousness lingered like a weight on your chest. “Yes, PD-nim. Ready to go.”

With a deep breath, you stood in front of the camera, the bright lights making everything feel a little more surreal. As the countdown began, your smile widened. You had this. You could do this.

“Three… two… one…”

The camera zoomed in as you cheerfully greeted it, the familiar words falling from your lips almost automatically. “Hello everyone! Welcome back to another episode of Y/N’s Cut,” you said, raising your hand in a playful wave. “I’m your host, Y/N! And today, we have a very special episode for you. It’s a day full of surprises because we’re celebrating one of the most talented groups under HYBE—TXT!”

You paused for a beat, giving the camera a bright smile. “We’re here to wish Taehyun a very happy birthday, and of course, to ask him some fun questions. So stay tuned, because we’ve got a lot to unpack!”

You turned toward the practice room door, your heart speeding up again as you mentally prepared to enter. You knocked hesitantly, feeling the weight of the moment.

From inside, you heard a chorus of greetings, the boys’ voices excited and welcoming. “Y/N! Welcome!”

The rest of the group greeted you warmly, but your eyes were immediately drawn to Taehyun. He was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, eyes studying you in that way that made you feel both seen and unseen at the same time.

"Ah! Sunbaes, it's so nice to finally meet you," you stammered, bowing to them, a nervous giggle slipping from your lips as you bowed slightly.

"Nice to meet you too," Taehyun replied, his voice smooth, though there was a teasing undertone in his tone as he gave you a once-over. "Everyone’s ready, do we start now?" he asked, his gaze lingering just a little too long on you, making your heart beat faster.

You nodded, but as you started to speak, the nerves came back in full force. "Actually, I only need you for this interview, Taehyun-ssi. If that’s alright?" you added, unsure if it was too forward to make such a request.

He raised an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eye. "Of course. We’ll let you borrow him for a little while," Yeonjun said, nudging Taehyun lightly with his elbow, his grin widening.

The rest of the members chuckled, but Taehyun didn’t move, only tilting his head toward you with a small smirk. "Alright, let’s get this over with," he said, though there was something in his tone that made you second-guess whether he was really as uninterested as he seemed.

You exited the practice room and he followed you into another room where everything was set up, the cameras rolling as the door shut behind you. You tried to steady your breathing as the small, intimate space became a little too quiet, even with all the eyes of the staff on you. Taehyun took a seat at the small table, his posture relaxed but his eyes still studying you intently.

You cleared your throat and turned back to the camera, signaling for the interview to officially start. "So, Taehyun-ssi," you began, trying to steady your voice, "today’s a special day. It’s your birthday! How does it feel to be another year older?" You hoped the question came across as playful and casual, but your nerves were making it hard to read the room.

Taehyun leaned forward slightly, his smile still teasing but more genuine now. "Feels pretty good. Another year, another milestone. But I’m not one for big celebrations. I’d rather just relax, enjoy the day with the members, you know?"

You nodded, trying to focus on the flow of the conversation. "I get that. Birthdays can be overwhelming sometimes." You shifted in your seat a little, trying to find your rhythm. "But I heard you have something special planned for the day, right?"

"Something like that," he replied, his lips curving into that familiar smirk. "But we’ll keep it low-key. No big parties or surprises. Just a cake, some drinks, and good company."

Your heart skipped at the mention of cake, and you quickly caught yourself, mentally reminding yourself to stay calm. "Well, we’ve got a special treat for you today as well," you said, trying to sound casual, though you could feel your voice wavering just a bit. "A cake to celebrate your day."

Taehyun’s eyes flickered with interest, and you quickly moved towards the table where the cake was waiting. Your hands felt unsteady, and as you reached for the box, you could feel your palms growing clammy. You took a deep breath and turned back toward him, offering the box with a slight tremor in your hand.

"I—I baked it myself," you blurted, suddenly feeling embarrassed by the confession. "I—wanted to make something special for you, Taehyun-ssi." You felt your face heat up as you looked at him, hoping the gesture didn’t come across as too forward.

He looked at the box for a moment before his gaze met yours. You couldn’t quite read his expression, but his eyes seemed to soften just a fraction as he took the box from your hands.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low and smooth, making your heart skip a beat. His gaze lingered on you, and there was something about the way he looked at you that made your face flush deeper.

As he set the cake down on the table, he casually cut a slice, the soft sound of the knife through the cake making you feel even more on edge. Without even using utensils, he grabbed a small piece and, with a teasing glint in his eyes, lifted it to his mouth. Slowly, he licked the frosting off his finger, his gaze never leaving yours as he did so. The slow, deliberate motion had your pulse racing, and before you could stop it, your face heated up, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You tried to focus on the conversation, but your attention kept drifting back to his finger, the way his lips curved as he savored the taste. You couldn’t deny how much the small action made your stomach twist with a mix of desire and discomfort. There was something undeniably captivating about him, and he seemed to know the effect he had on you.

Taehyun smirked again, his eyes still locked onto yours. "Not bad," he commented, his voice soft but with a hint of amusement. "You baked this yourself?"

You nodded quickly, trying to clear your throat and sound normal. "Y-Yes, I wanted to make something special for you."

"Well, it’s definitely... memorable," he said, his smirk never faltering. You tried to ignore the beating in your chest, continuing the interview.

The shoot had wrapped up earlier than expected, and the staff began moving toward the exits, chattering amongst themselves about the next project. But Taehyun stayed behind, lingering in the corner of the room with an air of calm that contrasted sharply with the chaos around him. You hadn’t expected him to ask you anything, let alone invite you somewhere. But when your eyes met, he gave a small, knowing smile, and your breath hitched in your throat.

Without a word, he picked up the box containing the cake you’d baked and turned to you. His voice was low, smooth, and somehow commanding despite its casual tone. “Come over to the dorms. Let’s celebrate properly.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t tell if it was excitement or nerves that caused the flutter in your chest, but the idea of spending more time with him—alone—sent a rush of emotions through you. You swallowed hard, trying to seem unaffected, even though the mere thought of being alone with Taehyun made your heart race.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind running through a million possibilities. What would it be like? Was this something he did often with guests or was this different? He wasn’t giving you any hints, though. His eyes were steady, waiting for you to answer.

“Okay,” you managed, voice softer than you intended. You immediately cursed yourself for sounding too eager, but Taehyun simply nodded and motioned toward the door. You followed him, still unsure of what you’d gotten yourself into, but you couldn’t help the curiosity tugging at you.

The drive to his dorm felt like an eternity, and yet, it was over far too quickly. The air was thick with anticipation, and you couldn’t seem to control the nervous energy that buzzed through you. Every word he spoke, every glance in your direction, had your heart pounding. You tried not to overthink it, but every little detail felt magnified in the quiet of the car.

The moment you stepped inside the dorm, the atmosphere shifted. The door clicked behind you, leaving just the two of you in the quiet space. Taehyun moved with effortless grace, setting the cake down on the kitchen counter, his movements slow but purposeful. The air between you two was thick with an undeniable tension, each small shift of his gaze making your heart race.

He turned, flashing you a brief smile as he poured two drinks. You could feel the weight of his attention, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made you feel exposed, though he said nothing. The sound of the bottle’s liquid filling the glasses echoed in the otherwise silent room, the quietness making the space feel almost too intimate.

You stood by the counter, unsure of where to sit, fidgeting nervously with your hands as you tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened under his gaze.

“Make yourself at home,” Taehyun said in his usual nonchalant tone, but it only added to the air of quiet authority he exuded. He handed you a glass, his fingers brushing against yours as you took it, sending a shiver through your body.

“Thanks for having me over,” you said, attempting to keep your voice casual, though it came out a little softer than you intended.

“No problem,” Taehyun replied, not breaking eye contact as he took a sip from his own glass. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking relaxed but observant. “It’s just gonna be the two of us for a while. The others had to stay longer for some extra practice, and I got to leave early.” He shrugged, a small, cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Perks of being the birthday boy, I guess.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The thought of it being just the two of you felt strangely intimate, and the way he said it made you feel like you were both on some unspoken edge, standing at the precipice of something new.

As Taehyun eyed you, his expression softened just slightly, but the teasing glint in his eyes never disappeared. He seemed to enjoy the effect his words were having on you. “I don’t mind the company though,” he added casually, though his gaze was still intense, focused on you.

You felt the weight of his attention all over again, your heart fluttering in your chest. You quickly tried to shake off your nervousness, but his words hung in the air like an unspoken invitation, leaving you both more aware of each other than ever before.

The dorm was quiet except for the soft clink of glasses on the table and the low hum of the fridge. Taehyun sat across from you, his fingers lazily tracing the rim of his glass, eyes locked onto yours with quiet amusement. The atmosphere was thick, heavy with something unspoken. It was like the silence between you two was more intimate than any words could express.

“You were so nervous earlier,” he mused, his voice smooth, teasing. “Was it because of me?”

The question was casual, but there was something about the way he said it that made your stomach twist. You quickly shook your head, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “No, of course not—”

“Liar.”

His smirk deepened, and before you could protest, he leaned forward, placing the cake box in front of you both. The moment was loaded with anticipation, the weight of his gaze on you making your heart beat faster. Taehyun seemed to savor the silence as he regarded you, eyes dancing with mischief.

He picked up the knife, slowly cutting into the cake with a deliberate slowness that made you nervous. You watched him carefully, unsure of what to expect next, and as the first slice was made, Taehyun’s eyes never left yours. The tension hung between you like a heavy curtain.

"You know," he said, his voice low and playful, "I don’t think I’ve seen you this nervous in your show."

“He watches my show?” you said in your mind. Your lips parted to respond, but before you could, he placed a piece of cake on a plate and slid it closer to you. His fingers brushed against yours as you reached for the fork. You looked up to meet his gaze, and there was something about the intensity in his eyes that made your stomach flutter.

"You’re not going to try it?" he teased, his voice smooth. "Don’t tell me you’re too shy to eat the cake you made in front of me."

You hesitated, looking down before speaking. “I’m not shy,” you whispered, though the heat in your cheeks said otherwise.

Taehyun chuckled teasingly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. "Uh-huh. Sure you're not."

There was a quiet pause, before he suddenly reached for the slice of cake, scooping up a generous amount of frosting with his finger. His gaze never wavered as he held it between you two. “Open,” he instructed, his tone just a little firmer now, commanding.

Your heart raced in your chest as you looked at his frosting-covered finger in front of you. The simple request felt like it carried more weight than it should. Slowly, you parted your lips, and without missing a beat, Taehyun pressed his fingers against your tongue. The taste of sweet vanilla filled your mouth, and for a moment, all you could focus on was the taste of sweetness, whether it was the frosting or his fingers—it was definitely sweet. His eyes were still staring at yours, and the weight of it made your breath hitch.

You licked his fingers clean, feeling a shiver race down your spine as you did. His eyes darkened with something unreadable, a mix of amusement and desire swirling in his expression.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pulling his fingers away, the praise sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His voice, soft and steady, was laced with a warmth that made your thighs unconsciously press together. The way he said it, so calm yet so commanding, ignited a fire in you you hadn't expected.

Before you could gather your thoughts, his thumb brushed the corner of your lips, catching a bit of frosting that had escaped. You barely had time to react before he leaned in, his tongue dragging over the skin right next to your lips in a slow, deliberate lick. Your breath was caught, your body tense, as the sensation sent an uncontrollable shudder through you.

“You taste… sweet,” he murmured, his lips barely grazing your jaw. You closed your eyes, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for stability as his touch intensified.

"But I don’t think this is enough…" Taehyun's voice dropped lower, a dangerous, teasing edge creeping in. He dipped his fingers back into the cake, this time smearing frosting along your collarbone, down the exposed skin peeking from the neckline of your top.

Your breath hitched as the coolness of the frosting contrasted against your flushed skin. “T-Taehyun, what are you—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips met your skin. He licked, sucked, and nibbled lightly along the sweetened trail he’d left, sending waves of heat and sensation through your body. The mix of pleasure and embarrassment had you gasping, eyes fluttering shut as you melted under his touch.

“You look good like this,” he whispered, voice thick with desire. “So soft, so obedient, so… tempting”

The words hit you like a shockwave, sending a rush of heat between your legs. He knew exactly what he was doing to you—knew how easily he could make you melt beneath him with just his words and touch.

His fingers trailed up your arm, then tilted your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His gaze was commanding, dark, and intense. “You want more?” he asked, his voice low and husky. “Admit it.”

Your pride warred with the desperate desire pulsing through your veins, but you couldn't help it. Breathless, your lips parted. “I... I do.”

A dark chuckle escaped him, and without warning, his lips descended onto yours, his kiss deep and consuming. His tongue slid against yours with a hunger that left you gasping for air, a whimper escaping you as his hands gripped your hips, pressing you further against the counter. You could feel the heat of his body, his strength, and his dominance wrapped around you in every movement.

Taehyun pulled away from the kiss, but not for long. He lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter, standing between your legs with an air of dominance that made you shiver. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you with slow, deliberate movements, and you felt yourself melting beneath his touch.

His lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing lightly, just enough to leave a mark. You gasped, your breath uneven as your hands gripped his shoulders for support.

“You like being told what to do, don’t you?” His voice was a low murmur against your skin, fingers playing with the hem of your top, teasing.

Your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, your head barely nodding.

He didn’t need any more confirmation. With a smirk, he slipped your top over your head, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you. His fingers trailed down your stomach, smearing more frosting onto your exposed skin as he leaned down, his lips following the path he’d made with his fingers.

“You’re my dessert tonight,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he licked a long, teasing stripe up your torso, swirling his tongue over each spot where frosting had touched “-the perfect gift”

You trembled, your body reacting to every touch, every lick. Your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, holding onto him for support as he continued his slow, torturous exploration. His teeth grazed against your sensitive skin, sending a wave of shivers through you before he soothed the sting with his tongue.

“Taehyun—” You gasped as his mouth continued to worship your skin, sending you further into a haze of pleasure.

He silenced you with another kiss, this one deeper, more desperate. His hands slid lower, teasing the waistband of your shorts before pulling them down with a fluid motion. You shivered, the cold air hitting your heated skin, but Taehyun didn’t stop. His fingers traced the outline of your body, playing with the edge of your desires, pulling you closer to the end.

“Let me hear you beg for it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low, a quiet command that made your body tremble with need.

You could feel the fire inside you burning, every inch of your body craving him. “Please… I need you,” you whispered, unable to stop yourself.

A satisfied smirk curled on his lips, his eyes dark with lust. “That’s my girl.”

He picked you up, as if you weighed nothing, and carried you over to the couch. He laid you down gently and went back to the kitchen. He returned, the cake in hand, placing it on the coffee table in front of you.

“This isn’t fair for my baby, is it?” he says, sitting next to you. You stared at him confused until he grabbed the hem of his shirt, taking it off in one swift motion revealing his sculpted chest. The sight alone made your core tighten with need.

Taehyun took more frosting on his fingers and smeared it on his chest, licking the remains from his fingers. “Why don’t you have a taste?” he asked, still staring at you while cleaning up his fingers. Hesitantly, you inched forward, slowly poking your tongue out whilst looking up at him. “Don’t be shy, baby, go on.” with his permission, you licked a stripe of frosting up his chest, gaining a bit of confidence. As you were cleaning up his chest, he whispered in a low voice “You’re enjoying this a bit too much now, aren’t you?”.

Before you could even respond, his hands grabbed your waist and pulled you over his lap. He pressed hard against your core, making you gasp, your body instinctively grinding against him. His hands moved across the back of your head, tangled in your hair as he tilted your head back, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

The kiss felt like it took over all your senses, his tongue claiming yours with so much urgency that it made you breathless. His hands tightened around your hips, rocking you against his growing bulge as a low groan escaped his chest. "You feel so fucking good," he cursed against your lips, sending a jolt of excitement through you.

His hands slipped under the waistband of your pants, gripping your bare ass and pulling you closer. “I can’t wait anymore” everything was suddenly a blur and he was now hovering over you. "So pretty," he sighed, leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone, his lips igniting fire in the process.

With skilled hands, he removes your pants, sliding them down your legs and leaving you naked beneath his hot gaze. His fingers brushed against your clothed bundle of nerves, lingering on the damp fabric, and his lips curled into a cocky smirk. "For someone so shy, you seem to be excited" he teased, his voice filled with pride as he finally removed the last piece of clothing you had.

You whimpered as his fingers moved between your folds, gathering the wetness that had pooled there. "You're soaked," he groaned, inserting one finger inside you and quickly adding another, your hands gripping his biceps. The stretch caused you to arch against him, but his pace remained slow, much to your dismay. After months of not being sexually active due to being an idol, this was like the first time again.

His gaze never left your face, ensuring that you were okay. He drew his fingers back out, only to thrust them back in and curl them, touching that specific spot inside, making you let out a pornographic moan.

You clenched around his fingers as he quickened his pace, "Tae-" you bit your lip; you were close, he could feel it. Your eyes were closed, and your brows were furrowed.

"Taehyunie, please," you pleaded, your voice shaking as your hips bucked against his hand, seeking release.

"Calm down, baby," he said, his lips brushing across the shell of your ear. He pulled out his fingers, leaving you hanging on the brink of relief, making you let out a frustrated sigh.

Suddenly he sat up, pulling his pants down his legs, freeing his hard length from its confines, and your mouth dried up at the sight of him. You were staring, he noticed, but before you could do anything, he was already on you again, his lips slamming into yours .

Pulling back from the kiss, he teased your drenched folds with his tip, his lips lingering over your ear. "Tell me, baby," he said softly, his voice dark and demanding. "Tell me how much you want this, how much you want me.".

"I want it, so bad," you said, putting your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. "Please."

Taehyun wasted no time and pushed his length inside you, slipping in until he was pushed to the hilt. It seemed as if your walls had been filled to the last inch. You groaned as your walls pulsated, full and sensitive. He leaned forward, hands resting beside your head on the couch underneath the two of you.

"Does it feel good?"" He breathed into your ear, and all you can do is cry out and nod. He pulled out just enough to keep the tip in, then gently began sliding back in, this time deeper than before.

"Good," he said into your ear, straightening himself as he brought your hips closer to his and began to move quicker.

Fingers digging into your hips with such force that they would likely bruise later, but the additional pain just added enough to your already existing pleasure.

"Shit baby, you're doing so good,"

He could feel your entire body shaking and knew you were getting close because of the way you were squeezing him. He felt his balls tightening and realized he's only seconds away from cumming, but he wouldn’t let himself release before you had.

The sound of skin-on-skin clapping resonated throughout the living room as he chased his high while you clutched to the cushions for dear life.

He felt good, too good to be true and you clenched around him even more, practically screaming that you’re ready to cum. "Tyun—fuck — I'm close,"

He brought his fingers over your bundle of nerves and started to rub in a circular motion. "Let go baby, I'm here,"

"Oh fuck, Tae, keep going — fuck — I'm coming, I-" With a loud moan, your back arched as you reached your peak.

“Just a bit more baby, I’m close too,” he said, basically panting at this point, “Where do you want me to cum?” he asked before he could let go.

“Wait! Not inside, I’m not on anything, anywhere but inside,” you replied. Suddenly Taehyun had an idea, he pulled out and moved closer to the coffee table. He continued stroking himself and with a loud groan he released all over the cake he had brought over from the kitchen.

You were still laying down, eyes practically shut from exhaustion, when you felt something on your lips, “Eat up,” he said. You opened your eyes and saw him holding a piece of cake, topped with some of his release. You opened your mouth to take a bite, keeping eye contact with him. “It tastes sweeter now, hm?” He gave you a kiss after you swallowed.

He then got up and helped you up, “Let’s get you cleaned up”.

The dorm was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the couch beneath you as you laid tangled in each other’s arms, with you wearing his shirt and him only in his sweatpants. Your skin still tingled from the lingering sensation of Taehyun’s touch, your body utterly exhausted from the passion you’d shared. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, a steady comfort that made you feel safe, secure, and completely content in the aftermath.

Taehyun, ever so relaxed, reached over to grab a piece of the cake from the table. His fingers brushed against your lips, and you didn’t hesitate this time, taking it eagerly, making him chuckle.

“You’re learning fast,” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You pouted, playfully nudging his chest with your elbow. “It’s your fault for making me nervous.”

Taehyun just smirked, pulling you even closer, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. “You’re so cute when you’re shy.”

As your eyelids grew heavy, the gentle rhythm of his touch lulling you to sleep, you let out a soft sigh. The contentment you felt with him in this moment was almost overwhelming, and you let yourself drift, thinking about how much fun you could have in the future.

But just as the calm settled in, the door suddenly burst open with an exaggerated bang, and loud, boisterous voices filled the room.

“Happy birthday, Taehyun!” the TXT members shouted in unison, carrying a mountain of gifts, balloons, and what looked like some very extravagant party hats. They seemed all too excited, grinning like kids in a candy store.

However, the moment they laid eyes on the scene in front of them—Taehyun casually sprawled out on the couch, you nestled in his arms, your hair slightly disheveled, the remains of cake on both of your faces—they froze. The energetic chatter immediately ceased. Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity, and the awkwardness in the air was so thick you could practically taste it.

Soobin, the first to enter, froze completely in place. His eyes darted from Taehyun’s smug grin to your flushed cheeks, and his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Behind him, Yeonjun, carrying a giant stuffed bear, stumbled in, completely unaware of the awkwardness that awaited. The second his eyes landed on you two, though, the bear nearly slipped from his hands as he froze, his face turning a shade of red that nearly matched the color of his shirt.

There was another beat of silence. Beomgyu’s face was unreadable as he looked between the two of you and then at the floor, visibly trying to ignore the fact that something very private was happening in front of him.

Yeonjun was the first to break the silence with a nervous chuckle. "Uh… we didn’t, uh… interrupt anything, did we?" he asked, his voice high-pitched, almost comically so. His eyes bounced between you and Taehyun like a tennis ball in a match.

You couldn’t even look at them. You simply buried your face in Taehyun’s shoulder, wishing you could vanish into thin air.

“Did we catch you at a bad time?” Soobin’s voice cracked, causing Taehyun to chuckle darkly, clearly enjoying the discomfort of his members.

“Guys, really?” Taehyun said, still relaxed, not at all fazed by the situation. He was practically lounging, an arm draped lazily around your shoulders as if the whole thing was no big deal. "You didn’t knock? Really?"

The awkwardness only deepened as the other members looked at each other with growing discomfort. Then, in true chaotic TXT fashion, it all erupted.

Yeonjun, clearly flustered, quickly reached forward and nearly dropped the stuffed bear. “Uh, yeah, Happy Birthday, I guess?” he stammered, trying and failing to make it sound casual.

Soobin, who had been holding a gift box, stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief. “We—uh, we brought presents and—” He paused, glancing at the situation again and lowering the gift box. “Are we… interrupting?”

Beomgyu, trying to save face, cleared his throat loudly and grinned awkwardly, but his gaze kept flicking between you and Taehyun. “Best birthday surprise?” He half-laughed, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed unsure whether to hand over his gift or take a few steps back and leave.

You couldn’t help but burst into nervous laughter at the ridiculousness of it all. Taehyun, however, seemed unfazed, thoroughly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. “It’s fine, guys. You can leave your presents over there,” he said, casually gesturing toward the coffee table, his voice dripping with amusement.

But then suddenly Kai enters, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! You better like my gift because it wasn’t che-” he stops mid sentence, completely overwhelmed by the awkward tension, suddenly dropped his gift—an expensive-looking watch—right onto the floor with a loud clink. He stared at it, wide-eyed. “I—uh—I didn’t… expect this,” he muttered under his breath, visibly panicking.

“Dude, did you drop your gift?” Yeonjun blurted out, eyes still darting between you two as if trying to process what had just happened. He too looked like he wanted to vanish into thin air.

With all the members now shifting uncomfortably in the room, Taehyun finally leaned back against the couch, a smug smile spreading across his face. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed about the situation. In fact, he seemed downright pleased with the effect his actions were having on his friends.

“Anyway,” he said, turning to you with a wink, “looks like the real celebration’s just getting started.”

The others finally relaxed, but the awkwardness lingered in the air as they awkwardly handed over their gifts, trying to pretend like everything was normal. Taehyun, still with that mischievous grin, leaned over to you, his lips brushing your ear. “Best birthday ever.”

You could only nod, still flushed and amused by the absurdity of it all.

As the rest of the members settled around, you and Taehyun exchanged an amused look, both of you trying not to laugh at the chaos that had just unfolded. Despite the initial awkwardness, it was clear that the memory of this would stick with everyone for a long time—and it would definitely be one they wouldn’t be able to shake off.

“Oh hey, there’s still some cake!” Kai exclaims reaching out for the cake on the table, your and taehyun’s eyes widening.

“KAI DON’T!”

Rei's Notes ✎: Another surprise fic for tyunnie's bday!! The man who's slowly sneaking up to being my bias wrecker~ It's my first smut fic so please go easy on me huhu but I hope you all enjoy it~ I had to keep it short to post it on time... T^T I PROMISE I'LL WRITE LONGER SMUTS IN THE FUTURE WHEN IM BETTER!!

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp @ode2soob

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laughroditee · 3 days ago

Text

🟢 Snakes and Ladders

Characters: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, OC children, Captain John Price Word Count: 2500

Mood Music:

youtube

"I fink he's dead." The little girl’s tremulous voice sounds far away as Gaz focuses on it, muffled like he’s underwater.

"He ain't dead; he's still breaving, yeah? Look." A boy's voice speaks this time with all the surety of a sand castle looking at the tide.

Gaz is, indeed, still breathing, the pounding in his head monumental enough that he suspects he may have a concussion. He inhales and hears the children jump away. Slowly pushing himself into a sitting position against the nearby tree trunk, he winces as the plank ladder digs into his shoulder blade. The large, broken branch on the ground gives him the distinct feeling that this is the most likely suspect in whatever happened to his head.

He looks at the children now, three in total: the oldest stands with the hopeful air of authority that only a young boy of about eight can have. The girl—most likely his sister, given the same brown eyes and black curly hair—stands half-hidden behind him. The third child stands off to the side, his fiery red hair about ten times as loud as the child himself.

The oldest one speaks first. "This here is our treehouse. What do you fink you're doin' here, eh?"

"Roddy!" the girl hisses around his side. "That ain't proper! He's hurt!"

The boy — Roddy — glares at his sister. "I told you, call me Snake!" Turning toward Gaz as if nothing happened, Roddy — or Snake — says, "You can call me Snake.” He points to the headband on his brow, which trails in twin tails behind him, much like a certain video game character. “This here is my sister Larry—"

"Alaria!"

"Quiet, you."

"I'm tellin' Mum!"

Snake looked ashen for a second before clearing his throat and refocusing on Gaz. "Like I said, this here is our treehouse. Who are you an' what're you doin' here?"

"My name is… Kyle Garrick, and I—" He pauses. As Gaz tries to retrieve the information of how he got here and what he was even doing before this, all he can see is tv static, an empty void where his memory should be. "I... don't remember how I got here," he admits.

"Oh, you poor fing!" Alaria coos, finally coming out from behind her brother. "Bet you got your mem’ries lost from that nasty bump on your 'ead."

"Bump...?" Gaz reaches back, and sure enough, there is quite the sizeable knot on the back of his head, and he hisses, pulling his hand away with just a little blood and some wood chips from the tree branch.

"Head wounds always bleed more," Snake says, trying to quell the queasy look on his sister's face.

Gaz suppresses a smile. So the kid actually does have a heart, after all.

Rummaging through her sequined unicorn purse, Alaria pulls out a long bandage that looks like it has seen its share of warfare usage – if the war in question involves glitter bombs. "Mr. Cuddles ain't usin' this right now, so I reckon we should patch you up." She begins to wrap Gaz's head wound awkwardly. He doesn't have the heart to tell her how to dress it properly since she seems so concerned about his wellbeing. Once she finishes, Gaz feels a bit like The Mummy, but Alaria looks so happy he can't help but smile.

"Thanks, I owe you one," he tells her, and the girl practically vibrates with joy.

"Right, Kyle,” Snake says. “Sounds like you've got amnesia, bruv."

Gaz cocks an eyebrow. "Thank you for your quick diagnosis, Doctor Snake."

"Ain't nothin'," the boy replies with an overly unconcerned sniff. "Right, lads—"

"Don't call me 'lad,' I'm not a boy!" Alaria complains.

"Oi, focus, yeah? This man's lost his mem’ry; I bet he don' even know where he's at, and you want to complain about something like that? Come on, Larry."

She scowls but seems to acquiesce.

"First thing's first, then, we gotta find out where you came from before this. Me mate, Dave always says that retracin' your steps can help you remember. Like when you go into a room an' forget why you came in there."

Gaz looks at the redheaded boy who stands watching the scene unfold. "Is that Dave?"

“Wot?” Snake looks over his shoulder and wrinkles his nose. "Nah, that's Collin," he says dismissively, giving Gaz a look that says he thinks he's a little slow on the uptake.

Gaz blinks politely, redirecting with, "Alright, Collin?"

The boy nods silently in greeting.

"Can you stand up, Kyle?" Alaria asks, taking on a nursemaid demeanor, which Gaz has to imagine she uses on her stuffed bears at home.

"I think so." Carefully, Gaz stands up, brushing the dirt and leaves from the front of his shirt and jacket.

"Oi, hang on!" Snake says, staring intently at Gaz's leg. "You got them sticky burrs on your jeans."

Gaz looks down and pulls off a few of the dark seed pods that cling when you walk past them. “Alright, and?”

"I know a place nearby where they grow," he says. "We always avoid that area 'cause they're awful to get out of our clothes once we're up here. But we can take you frew, see if that jogs your mem’ry."

He looks at the boy with an impressed half-smile. "Sounds like a plan. Good eye, Snake."

Snake swells with genuine pride at the praise. "Right, lads, let's move out!" With no objections this time, the four of them start the trek away from the treehouse and through the woods.

"So you really don't remember what you were doin' before?" Alaria asks as she walks by Gaz's side.

He shakes his head. "Unfortunately not. It's all a bit hazy, though I can remember who I am and what I do for work."

"What do you do for work then?" Snake asks.

"Military," Gaz says simply, watching veritable stars form in the boy's eyes.

"Wicked," he breathes with excitement. "Me mate, Dave, his mum works for the army as a nurse. I want to join when I'm old enough."

Gaz looks down at Snake, seeing in the boy the younger version of himself, wanting so badly to follow in his father's footsteps, to protect people. He swallows, thinking of the pain and sacrifices he's endured over the many years of his career, the boy's shining, starstruck eyes feeling like an even heavier weight because it's this innocence that he fights so hard to protect every day.

After a moment, Gaz shakes off his reverie and says, "Just remember always to keep your head and look out for your people. They're who you're fighting for, yeah?"

Snake nods solemnly as if he's committing this to memory; he may very well be.

"Oh, nooo!" Alaria whines. "They're all over me now." Sure enough, her leggings are sprinkled with burrs.

"Guess we're in the right place," Gaz says, looking around.

"Anyfing look familiar?" Snake asks.

Looking around the area again, Gaz tries to recall some image from the static in his brain. After a few moments, he sighs, shaking his head in frustration. "Nothing," he says.

"You know, on the telly, sometimes you get your mem’ry back if you get scared real bad," Alaria says hopefully.

"That's hiccups, Larry," Snake sighs with an eye roll.

"Oh."

"What you're finkin' of is when you get clobbered in the 'ead again."

Alaria gasps, stomping in front of Gaz, much to his amusement. "You ain't gonna touch 'im, you hear me, Roddy!? He already got a bump on his 'ead! He's been frew enough!"

"It's alright, love," Gaz says through a smile. "No one's getting clobbered."

"Tha's what I was gonna say," Snake huffs. "Honestly." Shaking his head, Snake looks over at Collin, who's been wandering around the brush with purpose. The boy bends over and picks something up.

"Oi, whachu got there, Collin?"

Collin holds up what he found: a grey baseball cap with a monochrome Union Jack patch embroidered on the front.

Gaz knows it instantly, moving toward Collin’s location. "That's... that's mine."

Retrieving it gratefully, Gaz says, "Thanks, mate." There's a small patch of blood on the back, which makes him sigh. "Blood stains are so hard to clean out."

"Me mate, Dave's mum says to use hydrogen peroxide," Snake offers.

"Ah. The army nurse, yeah?"

"No, she’s just a mum," Snake says, as if Gaz should already know this information.

Gaz stares for a moment, confused, but decides it’s best just to move on rather than argue with a surly child. He curls the hat by the brim and shoves it into his back pocket. No sense in trying to fit it over all the bandages and blood.

"Awright, lads, we know he came frew here. The question is: where do we go next?" Snake looks amongst his squad's faces for ideas, but none are forthcoming.

After a moment, Alaria suggests, “We could go to the playground.”

"Oi, why would a grown man be at the playground, Larry?"

She scowls. "I dunno, maybe he has a kid or somefing!"

"No kids," Gaz mutters absently as he kneels, his eyes scanning the ground where his hat was found. He'll have to pick off all the burrs later.

"Have you got your phone on you?" asked Alaria.

"My phone?" Hands going to pockets automatically, Gaz looks for that familiar rectangle, but instead, he feels nothing. "No. Don't know where that could've gotten off to."

After a few more minutes of searching, Gaz lets out a growl of frustration. "I can't bloody remember a thing!" He stands up and drags a hand over his face, biting back the string of expletives just aching to come out. If only he weren't surrounded by children.

"Maybe we should call the police," says Alaria quietly. "I think he needs a doctor."

Snake grimaces. "We ain't got no phone, remember?"

"We can just go home!"

"And let mum see us wif a complete stranger?? Are you mental? We'll get grounded for a week and a half!"

"He ain't a stranger, he's Kyle Garrick! Besides, she'll understand when she sees 'im!"

"You're so stupid, Larry! You fink that Mum won't tell us we can't go to the treehouse anymore? A grown man got attacked where we play, and you fink that she'll still let us go out an' play wifout her? Absolutely mad."

As Alaria starts to cry, it's clear that things have just crossed a line. Snake, the acting leader of this little group, stands off to the side with his arms crossed, leaving Collin and Gaz exchanging awkward glances.

"That's enough," Gaz says finally, earning a guilty-looking scowl from Snake. "It's alright, love,” he says, putting a gentle hand on Alaria’s shoulder. “Brothers sometimes say things they don't mean. Try not to think too badly of him, yeah?" He catches a tear with a knuckle and earns a small smile in return.

Collin, who had been standing and observing as he apparently tended to do, is now suddenly standing right next to them. It’s honestly a little unnerving how quietly he moves.

"You smell like strawberries," the boy says enigmatically.

"Oi, what's he on about?" Snake asks from across the patch of woods.

Gaz looks over at Snake, repeating the other boy's statement. "Your mate Collin says I smell like strawberries."

Alaria leans in and sniffs. "You do."

"Alright, and...?"

"Hang on, lads. Didn't the Tesco have a special strawberry slush on this week?" Snake asks, coming to join the group.

"Strawberry's the best," Collin says.

"Aww, I wanted Mum to get us slushes," says Alaria wistfully.

Snake nudges Gaz's jacket open, squinting at his dark shirt. Suddenly, he grins. "Looks like you had a spill, mate. There."

Gaz looks down, and sure enough, there's the faint outline of a red stain which has the distinct smell of strawberries. He looks at Collin with respect. "Good nose, mate." It's hard to tell, but the boy gives an imperceptible smile.

"Oi, Collin, how much did that strawberry slush cost?"

"Wot?" the boy answers.

"The price! How much for the strawberry slush?"

”Price…,” Gaz mumbles, his mind spinning.

"Oh. Three quid."

"Hang on, I think I remembered something," Gaz says as if he can't believe it.

"Well, what is it?" Alaria asks, practically bouncing.

"I remembered Price. Captain Price."

"Was he wif you at the market?"

Gaz grimaces. "I can't remember."

Snake raises his eyebrows. "Looks like you're startin' to wake up."

Chuckling, Gaz nods. "Looks that way."

"Let's go to Tesco!" Alaria says excitedly, raising her fist in the air.

It takes about five minutes to get out of the woods and into the main commercial area via a residential road, and Gaz couldn't be happier to see civilization again. The kids are fine, but he was starting to think he was stuck in some kind of Lord of the Flies alternate universe.

They approach the Tesco with Snake leading the way. "Awright, let's look inside, lads."

"Wait, we should take him to the counter, like what happens when you run off—"

"Yeah, yeah, enough." Snake scowls, covering his sister's mouth with his hand.

Collin snickers quietly.

"It's not a bad idea," Snake finally admits as he releases her.

"Agreed," Gaz says. "Good thinking, Alaria."

The group heads over to the customer service area, where all parents go to collect or report their wayward children. There, they see a rather miffed older gentleman with mutton chops.

"No, he's not a child—,” the man says to the customer service rep. “Look, I assure you, this is quite serious."

"Captain?" Gaz couldn't believe it. Of all the places, how could this actually be the right one?

The captain's head swivels around to face the group, the tension melting away on sight. "Gaz!" The tall man strides over to them with purpose.

"Is that your husband?" Alaria whispers.

Gaz nearly chokes on air. "Wha— No! That's my commanding officer."

"There's no shame in it,” Snake says. “Me mate, Dave's got two mums."

"I'm not ashamed, I'm just— no, you know what? Just no."

The kids giggle as Price closes in, taking Gaz by the shoulders and scrutinizing him for injuries. The man frowns. "You broken?"

"I'm good."

Price smiles. "Good lad."

After all is said and done, the mystery is finally revealed. As it turns out, Tesco was besieged by an overzealous strawberry slush thief just as Price and Gaz were about to check out. As Gaz tried to restrain the thief, the slush spilled onto his shirt, but the criminal broke free of his hold. Gaz pursued him through the woods but was ambushed with a very hard blow to the head, where he fell unconscious and suffered short-term memory loss.

Now, as they all enjoy some fresh strawberry slushes to celebrate a job well done, Gaz turns to Snake. "Listen. A man's mind is his greatest asset. Keep your head on, yeah?"

“Yes, sir,” Snake says, his little chest puffing out with pride.

Gaz smiles. “Good lad.”

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