#and create the library nook

[outfoxt]

once again the amazing shower idea instantly left my brain now that I'm not in it anymore 😭

[felixandresims]

Hello Hello Hello :),

I swear it's a coincidence that EA just published a Book Nook kit, maybe they have seen my hint from last month :D, joking.

I am thrilled to show you this month's items, a 40-piece modular library. The bookshelves are traditional in style and perfect for a chateau setting, in my opinion :) The Bookshelf can be made from six pieces: two single-tile bookshelves, a 2-tile version, a rounded inside corner, an outside corner, and an extra decorative piece for separation. The bookshelves are full height and you will get short, medium, and tall versions. To spice up this library you will get ladders for the medium and tall versions.

Now let me reveal a little secret, I made functional secret book doors matching the shelves, I included arch versions too :) People were asking me to make them for years, but don't ask me why it took me so long to create them :D, I loved watching my testing sims walk through the book wall.

To fill up all the space I created 14 clutter items, 9 book pieces in two different styles and various sizes, 2 sculptures, 2 vases, and a box. I matched the slots to the dimensions of my items and everything can be mixed and matched quite well :)

This Set is on Early Access and you will find it here

Thank you again for all the support I hope you enjoy using this set!

Happy Simming and lots of Love,

Felix xxx

[rezwrites]

𝓝𝓸𝓬𝓽𝓮 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓼

Vampire!Rio Vidal x Reader

Word count: 3.3k+

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, consensual non-consent, blood, stalking, knife play/knife-fucking, pervy!rio, choking/breathplay, double-ended strap, classic vampire cliches

a/n: happy halloween!

Stepping into the library, you're greeted by the soft creaking of the wooden floor beneath your feet drowned out by the mellow music that plays in the background, creating a soothing ambiance. Ancient bookshelves tower towards the lofty ceiling, dust particles dancing in the slivers of sunlight that penetrate the stained glass.

You make your way to the cafe ordering your usual coffee, the strong aroma wafting through the air, mingling with the crisp scent of old books.

Scaling the winding staircase, you delve deeper into the labyrinthine corridors of books and tomes, until happening upon your favorite cozy, nook by the window that overlooks the town square. Settling in, cautious not to spill your drink, you surround yourself with the new murder-mystery series you’re ecstatic about. The hours slip by unnoticed as you’re immersed in the numinous atmosphere, unaware to the pair of eyes that occasionally lingered on you.

“Don’t you have any friends to hang out with?” Rio’s smoky voice startled you out of your trance, questioning orbs probing you. She seemingly appeared out of nowhere, wavy, auburn hair fell over her tweed jacket.

“You always ask that, Rio. The answer never changes. I just enjoy reading.” You placed your bookmarked in between the pages, closing your book.

Rio pulls up a chair at the small table, “I know. It’s just that you’re here all the time. Always staying late.”

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows at her, ”Well, what about you? You don’t ever seem to take off or anything. Besides, don’t you have other customers to bother?”

“Everyone’s gone home.” she motions to the window behind you. Turning to see the sun long gone, the near full moon high in the sky casting its brilliant glow unto the earth. Looking back at your phone you notice it’s almost 8’oclock. Slipping your books into your bag you gave Rio a sympathetic smile, truly feeling bad for losing track of time and hindering her from closing the library.

You gazed at her as she acts uncharacteristically nervous, shifting from foot to foot. Before you could ask what’s wrong Rio blurted out, “Can I walk you home tonight?”

She hates knowing the fact that you’d rather walk home alone at night than take the bus, you had mentioned something about carbon footprint. While she admires your dedication she anguishes over the idea of harm coming your way. Since you’re always the last one to leave, she closes the library as quickly as possible to watch and make sure you get home safely.

You nodded smiling, grateful for the offer. The library was normally quiet, of course, but as Rio led you through the bookshelves it has a different more eerie, quietness to it. You just chalked it up to the fact that it’s nighttime outside. You waited by the front desk while Rio finished up the rest of her duties, returning to you surprisingly quickly, you noted. Watching the lights go out one by one you clutched your tote bag, the darkness of the library was slightly unpleasant. Before any panic could stir Rio called you over to the front door so she could lock up.

The cool air feels crisp and refreshing against your skin as you both stepped outside. Small puffs of breath flowing into the night each time you exhale. The twinkling stars in the sky seem to shimmer and dance. The night is calm and peaceful, enveloping you in a sense of tranquility. The faint rustling of leaves in the wind carrying the scent of petrichor. The streetlights lit your way as you traverse the suburban roads.

“What book are you on now?” She asked, hands in her pockets as she walked on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.

“That new murder-mystery series I’ve been telling you about! The bookstore across town had it out just in time for Halloween, I’m already on the second book.” Rio just chuckled at your enthusiastic ramblings, you’ve been raving about this series since late-May.

Rio doesn’t understand why you like Halloween so much. In all her time alive and the countless Halloweens that have passed her she has never grasped it. She just doesn’t understand Halloween, much like how she doesn’t understand why she’s so drawn to you. You were just a regular customer in the beginning, and even though you both built an acquaintance you’re still just a regular person. She tells herself it’s because you’re an easy meal but if you’re such an easy meal then why hasn’t she fed on you yet?

“So, why a librarian?” You inquired

“Quite, mundane. Books make decent weapons.” She laughed before quieting again, “Honestly, books provide a solace no one else can.”

“I get that.” You nodded along, “That’s really why I’m hidden away in the corner all day. My friends all moved to the city a few months ago and even though I just settled into my new job, I still have time on my hands.”

Rio listened intently, holding your front gate open, “Books are great way to lose yourself for a while.”

“Exactly!” You both shared a laugh, coming to a stop at the bottom of your porch steps, “Thanks for walking me home.”

“It’s not a problem.” You bid her a goodnight, fiddling with your keychain trying find your house key. Before you could enter your home she calls out, ”Do you want to go on a date?”

Spinning on your heel, shock evident on your face. Rio’s eyes widened at your shocked expression, clearing her throat, “I mean I might as well close for Halloween. We could watch horror movies all night. What better way to take a break, right?”

“I can make us dinner!” You instantly piped up, so many recipes already swimming in your mind, “it’s the least I could do walking me home.”

“Nothing with garlic, please.” She requests, playing coy. Faking an embarrassed chuckle, “I’m actually allergic.”

Bidding an each other a final goodnight, Rio watches you disappear inside your home. Hearing the click of the lock Rio checks her surroundings, before dipping around the back of your house. The lights in your bedroom already on by the time she crouches in your bushes. Peering through the sheer curtains of your bedroom window Rio watches you undress, noting every curve, dip, and mark on your body. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of mapping your body, it’s her favorite thing since developing this routine over the last month. She knows it’s morally wrong, but when she sees your angelic body she doesn’t dare stop herself from indulging in fantasies.

As you step into the shower Rio’s mind wanders to the thought of her hands roaming your warm body. Images of you shaking in bliss underneath her, arousal clear in your blood as she tastes you dance in her mind. Rio grunts lowly when you emerge from the bathroom instantly turning everything off and crawling into bed, upset she isn’t able to gaze at you a little longer. Rio makes her way home after listening to your breathing slow, confirming you fell asleep.

—

Buzzing with excitement when Thursday finally rolls around, you don’t hesitate to log off of work the second the clock hits four. After queuing up the movies for tonight you dash into the kitchen to get started on dinner and desert.

Rio stands in your walkway, staring at the fake cobwebs hanging from the porch banisters. After knocking she counts the fake spiders in your door wreath as she waits for you to answer the door.

“Hey!” You open the door with a cheerful smile on your face, “come in, come in.”

“All deck out for Halloween I see.” She closes the door behind her taking in all the decorations around your house. Little skeleton animals, pumpkin, and witch decor littered every inch of your living space, “My god, it’s like Halloween threw up in here.”

“I made bloody brownie bites for dessert!” Rio rounded the corner into the kitchen with her eyebrow turned up. Setting the brownies on the rack you turned to her, “Brownies with a little cherry filling. I also found a lasagna recipe that doesn’t have garlic in it.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Rio walked closer to you, the rich smell of tomato sauce and cheese filling the kitchen.

“No. You’re my guest, just sit and relax.” Pulling a chair at the table gesturing her to sit. Setting two glasses of water on the table.

"Are you really wearing plastic fangs right now? They look so realistic!” Taking in her dark makeup noticing the sharp canine teeth poking out.

She took in a sharp breath, holding a hand to her chest in offense. "These are my real teeth! This is just the one time a year nobody freaks out about them!”

You laugh, “Sure, sure.” Fixing two plates you place one in front of her, sitting down. A few minutes of silence passed before you spoke up again, “So do you sleep in a coffin or?”

“No. Ugh, those stupid movies never get vampires right!” She breathed out exasperated. She takes a sip of her water, “Call me crazy but I actually live above the library. There were a few rooms on the third floor, so I decided to renovate them as a living space.”

Cackling you held your stomach as it starts to cramp, “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you living at the library. Your commitment to the vampire character is convincing.” Taking a deep breath you wiped a tear from your eye.

“Dinner was delicious.” Rio complemented, handing you her plate, “How about we skip the movies for right now.”

“What did you want to do instead?” You placed the dishes in the soapy water, grabbing a towel to dry your hands.

“Let’s go for a walk. We can come back and finish the night with the movies.” Rio suggested, pushing her chair back in the table. Agreeing, you grabbed a light jacket before heading out.

—

The streets were alive with costumed children and their parents darting from house to house, colorful outfits glowing in the moonlight. The air was filled with the laughter and excited chatter of eager trick or treaters, blending with the rustle of leaves under their feet. The street lights were off letting the glow of Jack-o'-lanterns illuminating the street, casting eerie shadows on the houses and adding a touch of mystery to the atmosphere. The feeling of anticipation hung in the air.

“I’m sure the werewolves are having fun.” Rio stated, gawking at the large full moon.

“What?” You casted a pointed look at her, “There’s no such thing.”

“You really don’t believe in them? Just werewolves or all monsters?” Her face contorts with confusion. She’s not sure why she’s displeased. The fact that you don’t believe in the supernatural despite all your love for Halloween, and folklore upsets her.

“Like ghosts, spirits, stuff like that yeah, but vampires, werewolves, that’s where it gets tough.” you notice the streets getting quieter the longer you two walked. Rio perked up once you neared the graveyard. Running ahead she pushed open the grand metal gate, creaking as it gave way.

“Why in the world would we go in there?” You freeze on the sidewalk, goosebumps breaking out all over.

“Because it’s spooky,” she teased, bringing her hands up making them into claws. Cackling she turned, already walking onto the grounds. Huffing you followed after her eyes downcast, making sure not to trip over any tree roots protruding from the ground. A knot of dread slowly twisting in your stomach as you traversed the rows of tombstones. Rio gasps turning back towards you, “I hope no zombies wake up while we’re here.”

“That’s not funny.” you admonished, pressing a hand to your chest, attempting to soothe your racing heart. Glancing around, wide eyes darting all over, you hear Rio behind you, “Let’s play hide and seek.”

“What! no.” Turning to find yourself all alone, Rio nowhere in sight. How did she even disappear so quickly and quietly? It suddenly dawned on you how much silence there was, save for the crickets and occasional owl hoots. Shouting her name you searched around for her, quietly apologizing to each headstone you passed. Each passing second fear and anxiety welled up in your chest.

Frantically combing every inch of the graveyard, tears welled in your eyes. Coming to halt you let the tears fall, gathering your scattered thoughts. Fear turning to anger when you heard Rio’s laughter. Glancing up you spot her hanging upside down from a tree branch, your fists balling realizing that she just watched you run around the graveyard like a crazy person. Jaw clenching, you yelled at her, “Get down here, Rio! Stop kidding around!”

Rio stopped laughing, her face deadpanned. Dropping to the ground Rio stared you down, not uttering word as she advanced. Your blood froze when Rio’s eyes turned red, lips curling into a sinister smile, baring sharp fangs. Frozen in place, captivated by her hypnotic gaze. Time seems to slow as Rio leans in, breath brushing against your earlobe, “Your turn to hide.”

Immediately turning tail, you bolted out of the graveyard, your blood-curdling screams filling the air. Your breaths heave, heart pounding against your ribcage as adrenaline courses through your veins. Feet hitting the ground as fast as your body could take you, not caring how people looked at you as you ran past them, you just needed to get home.

Rio watched you run away, laughing to herself as she started the long way to your home. Now that you’ve invited her in your home she can come and go as she pleases. By the time she reached your backyard she was surprised you hadn’t made it home yet. Shimmying a library card under your window, she slides it open. Climbing into your bedroom, she heard the lock of your doors clicking. Cautiously closing your window she slipped behind your door, lying in wait.

Checking to be sure all the windows and doors were locked, drawing all curtains you made your way to your bedroom. Turning your on the bedroom light, you felt the cold steel of a blade on your neck. Rio grabbed you tighter, pressed the blade closer to your throat, her singsong voice floating through your ear, ”I found you.”

The blade of her dagger dangerously glinting in the light, swiftly slashing through your shirt. Peeling off your bra, Rio held you down on the bed. Hand on the middle of your back, wrestling off your pants. Hastily ridding herself of her own clothes Rio was thankful she’d forwent undergarments tonight. Every swing of her strap causing the end inside of her to press against her walls, sending a delicious shiver up her spine.

Flipping you on your back Rio caught both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. Trailing the knife down your neck and across your collarbones, she stops the knife nicking the skin above your breast. Rio made a series of rushed, small cuts down your torso, the sweet sting of each one increasing the wetness between your thighs.

Rio fixated on blood bubbling up to the surface of your skin. Moaning each time she dipped down, warm tongue lapping at the fresh wounds. Rio’s eyes lit up with enamor as she licked your blood from her lips.

She dragged your panties up pinching your clit, jerking your hips towards her. The pulse in your clit growing stronger as she presses the blunt side of her blade on your bundle of nerves.

“Look at this mess. It’d be too easy to just-” voice trailed off as she gathers your slick on the hilt of her dagger. Head falling back as Rio lines the handle to your entrance. A pleased hum passes your lips as the icy steel stretches you out.

You shiver under Rio’s predatory gaze, her hand moving to cover your neck, lightly squeezing the sides. Head feeling light and fuzzy as she thrusts the hilt inside you, the curve of the handle passing over that soft, spongy spot perfectly. She can feel your pulse fluctuating under her fingertips as she tests the pressure around your throat.

Yelping at the sudden emptiness in your core, you squeaked watching her bury her dagger into your headboard. “Absolutely soaked,” she husked out spreading your juices on her shaft. Holding your panties to the side she inched into you, both of you moaning in unison. Sharply inhaling when Rio sped up, deft fingers squeezing your neck again.

It’s such a power trip she thinks, gazing down on you. Your life is in her hands, but your face shows pure blissed-out pleasure. Releasing her hold on you she uses her thumb to push your head aside. Teeth scraping against your earlobe, “Depraved slut.”

Her hips thrusted at a near inhuman speed, nails digging into her wrists as her gripped tightened. Pussy clenching around Rio’s cock, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the thought of bruises forming on your throat. She swallows your moans, sneaking her other hand between your bodies, thumbing your clit. Each hard thrust sending electrifying, shockwaves through you, heels digging into her back. The squelching sound of her cock pounding you fills the room, mixing with the filthy moans you’re both emitting.

White spots blotted the edges of your vision, warmth rolling over you in waves. Shrieking, a sharp pain radiating as her teeth pierce your skin. Hearing her sucking on your neck realization hits you like a ton of bricks that Rio wasn’t masquerading as a supernatural creature for the night. Dragging your nails across her back leaving red trails in their wake, a loud moan escaping her. Rio latched on tighter, tasting your delicious blood as you convulse in her arms.

She doesn’t want to let go, wanting to stay in this moment for the rest of her eternity getting drunk off your taste. You weakly try to push her off as she licks at the hot liquid trickling down your neck.

Sucking in a deep breath when she relaxed the hand on your neck, her face remaining buried in your neck. Rio stilled inside you, collapsing on you. Shifting around to get comfortable, feeling the sheets soaked through beneath you. Rio found the way your heartbeat gradually slowed to normal rhythm calming, reveling in the way it grounded her. She felt your chest rise before you spoke up, “I know we talked about the- the sex and everything, but you’re actually a-”

“I tried telling you before.” Rio interjects, voice unusually small.

“I thought you were kidding! I thought you were alluding to your Halloween costume and was just super committed! You’re an actual-,” facepalming yourself, “Oh my god. Am I going to become a vampire?”

“No.” Rio rolled off you as you shot up, eyes bulging as you look at her. She figured you’d be screaming more, freaking out. You opened your mouth to ask another question but she beat you to it, “No, I’m not going to kill you.”

Clamping your mouth shut, you looked away from her, fingers reaching up to feel the puncture wounds she left. Watching you flinch, she propped herself on her elbows, “…Are you alright?” Rio felt more vulnerable with each passing second of thick silence, mentally trying shove herself in a grave. Boring holes in the back of your head, awaiting any form of reaction from you.

Thoughts running a mile a minute, too quick for you to grasp and focus on one. Despite Rio being a vampire she still felt like a haven. It shouldn’t be like this, but it is. Exhilaration, that a creature that’s portrayed as this evil being can deliver you such a cathartic experience. Fear, shame, embarrassment, feelings of the like surrounding the erotic fantasies you have, gone with Rio around. The ache in your neck and core solidified one thing: you wanted this again. The thrill of the chase as you ran home, arousal already forming knowing what awaited you the second you locked your doors. Eventually you straightened up, turning back towards her, an excited grin on your face, “Let’s fuck in the library next year!”

Rio’s eyes darkened, a smirk on her face, “Why wait?”

[novella-november]

Media Preservation Monday

Yeah, yeah, as of this original post it's actually only Wednesday but hey, take this as a sign to take some initiative, and keep to it each Monday at minimum if you're actively writing!

What's Media Preservation Monday, you may ask?

MPM is your reminder to back up your writing at least three ways at least once a week or whenever you make major changes to your document(s).

Here's some incredibly easy ways to back up your writing:

One your Master Document(s), put a date on the file name, and every day you make changes, "Save As" the Document and change the date. Do this every time or day you make major changes.

Example: You start writing your Novella November Story on November 1st.

You name your master document "Novnov Project 11-01-2024"

The next day, you write some more, and at the end of your writing session, you go to save your document, and instead of simply hitting "Save" you choose "Save As" and save the new copy of the Document as "Novnov Project 11-02-2024".

You now have two copies of your project, and if you keep this up throughout the whole month, you will have a live snapshot of your writing progress.

Each day or after each major writing session, open up the folder containing your document, and back it up. The Easiest and simplest way to do this is to simply email it to yourself, but you can also create multiple backups by:

Save a copy of your dated Master Document(s) to different locations on your Hard-drive, to an external hard-drive, to a thumbdrive, etc.

If you're writing offline on a writing program like Libreoffice, upload a copy of your Master Document(s) to your preffered Cloud-based Writing Program of your choice.

Vice Versa: if you write on a Cloud-based writing program, download it to various offline-based locations.

Download the base document as well as download it as various ebook formats and send them to your ebook library on your phone or kindle or nook or reading app.

Make a personal discord server and upload the document/epub form of your Master Document(s) there [this is also a good way of making a kind of personal journal / diary etc]

Whatever you do, do not be complacent and assume nothing can happen to your writing. Back it up. Preserve it.

Don't have all of your hard work go down the drain because of one tiny unforeseen accident.

When it comes time to clean up your hardrive, always assume you don't have it backed up. Before deleting anything always take the time to copy it over to another physical drive or a cloud drive.

[reasonsforhope]

"Next Monday [6/17/24] is the start of National Pollinator Awareness Week, and one Colorado advocacy group is hosting a flower planting drive to rewild Colorado’s meadows, gardens, and just maybe, its children too.

Created by constitutional amendment in 1992, Great Outdoors Colorado (GOCO) is a state-funded independent board that invests a portion of Colorado Lottery proceeds to help preserve and enhance the state’s parks, trails, wildlife, rivers, and open spaces.

This year, GOCO’s offshoot Generation Wild is distributing over 100,000 free packets of wildflower seeds to collection points at museums, Denver Parks and Rec. offices, and libraries all over the state to encourage kids and families to plant the seeds in their backyards.

The Save the Bees! initiative aims to make the state more beautiful, more ecologically diverse, and more friendly to pollinators.

According to a new report from the Colorado Department of Natural Resources, 20% of Colorado’s bumblebees are now at risk of extinction. Even in a small area like a backyard, planting wildflowers can make a positive impact on the local ecosystem and provide native bees with a healthy place to live.

“The Western Bumblebee population has declined in Colorado by 72%, and we’re calling on kids across Colorado to ‘bee’ the change,” said GOCO Executive Director Jackie Miller.

Named after Generation Wild’s official mascot “Wilder,” the Wilderflower Seed Mix was developed in partnership with Applewood Seed Co. and packets are now available for pickup at designated partner sites including more than 80 Little Free Library boxes.

By distributing 100,000 Wilderflower packets, Generation Wild is providing more than 56 million seeds for planting in every nook and cranny of the state. All seeds are regionally-native to Colorado, which is important for sustaining the living landscape of bees, birds, and other animals.

Additionally, by using flower species adapted to the Mile High climate, landscapers and gardeners need to use less water than if they were tending non-native plants.

“Applewood Seed Co. was excited to jump in and help Generation Wild identify a seed mix that is native to the Colorado region and the American West, containing a diversity of flower species to attract and support Colorado’s pollinator populations,” stated Norm Poppe, CEO of Applewood Seed Co. “We hope efforts like this continue to educate the public on pollinator conservation and the need to protect our native bees and butterflies.”

Concluding her statement Miller firmly stated that children grow up better outside, and if you or a parent you know agree with her, all the information on how to participate in Save the Bees! can be found here on their website, including a map showing all the local pickup points for the Wilderflower Seed Packets."

-via Good News Network, June 13, 2024

[0-n-1-x]

I love the artist!reader x Damian, and the newest with photographer!reader x Damian! but I was hoping you have any ideas or interest in writing a for bookworm!reader and Damian? she loves to read, romance light and dark romance with the occasional dark psychology book, but shes comes of a sweet sunshine girl so no one would expect her dark taste as well! No pressure though, please and thank you and have a good day!

definetley love this idea (also totally not self projecting as a book nerd)

link to my masterlist <33

-Damian who one day, casually asks what you're reading, expecting something lighthearted. Leading to you nonchalantly mentioning you're deep into a dark romance novel or a psychological thriller, catching him completely off guard. (not a very easy thing to do)

-Damian who is surprised to discover that you’re reading something like The Dark Half by Stephen King or Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. He’d raise an eyebrow, but you’d smile and explain your interest in exploring the darker sides of human nature.

-Damian who you love reading with under a tree in the Wayne Manor gardens, or in between the thousands of book stacks in the library.

-Damian who definitely surprises you by gifting you rare editions of novels. He’d also occasionally leave little sticky notes in your books with his thoughts on the themes, creating an intellectual bond you both cherish. Also expect books bouquets on holidays <33

-If you have a cozy little reading nook in your room filled with blankets, maybe pillows, and fairy lights. Damian often finds you there and visits after or during patrol, curled up with a book and a cup of tea. Sometimes he silently joins you, either to read or just to be near you

-Damian who has a soft spot for your personal library. When you aren’t around, he’ll occasionally straighten your shelves or rearrange your books by genre or color. He’d never admit it, but he knows exactly how you like things organized.

-You often stay up late reading, completely losing track of time. Damian sometimes walks into your room at 2 a.m. to find you with a book still in your hands, eyes half-open. He’ll take the book from you, marking your page before telling you to get some sleep, maybe if you ask him nicely he'll read to you from where you left off

[the-finest-clockwork-soldier]

There should be a few furnishing spots around, given you're right between Ivy and Toy here.

Ivy who was quite determined to create plenty nooks of comfort in her archives, regardless of how much she insisted it wasn't a library, and the Toy Soldier who was prone to ripping its furnishings with its joints and would get quite sad if its room wasn't passable as a person's, regardless of how it would always insist it wasn't sad.

So, yeah, the only mechanism who needed more replacements than these two was Tim, and he seemed content with the holes and tatters he put in most of his furnishings.

No further than a few halls down, if I'm remembering correctly.

Safe to say, Ashes' memory didn't fail when it came to matters of the Aurora.

They'd probably find mostly fabric comfort and storage furniture, but the Toy Soldier would happily make any wooden materials- such as a desk or similar furnishings- later, Ashes could be sure of that.

@gizm0roleplayz @littlevandalist

[sucker4mafia]

━━━ 'CHAPTER THREE' [ETERNAL NIGHT]

SYNOPSIS ➢ admist the mysterious and dark energy lurking in the corners of the academy, a terrifying encounter with a familiar student brings a rather confusing encounter with another.

PAIRING ➢ poly!enhypen x male!reader, sim jaehyun x male! reader, park sunghoon x male!reader, yang jungwon x male!reader

AU ➢ strangers-to-lovers au! x enemies-to-lovers au! x vampire au!

CONTENT WARNING ➢ this chapter contains; some angst, assaulted, being attacked, fighting, held against will, past trauma, tiny fluff, mentions of gore, blood, cannibalism [let me know if i missed any!]

PREVIOUS | NEXT

in the library's intimate upstairs nook, soft candlelight danced across the plush rug and cozy chairs, casting a warm glow. the gentle hum of footsteps and muted conversations drifted from downstairs, creating a soothing background melody. settled on the spacious windowsill, you reclined on your belly, propping your head with one hand and cradling your chin. your other hand held "mundane fairytales," now open to the 7th chapter. legs crossed, you were lost in the uncommonly optimistic tales of vampiric authors, where happy endings were a rare delight.

as you read, the atmosphere remained tranquil, until woonggi's announcement broke the silence. "alright, i finished!" he exclaimed, rising from his seat and sprawling across the floor like a starfish.

"devil, that was exhausting," he huffed, releasing a relieved sigh. the room's peaceful ambiance was momentarily disrupted, but the soft crackling of candles and gentle creaks of old bookshelves soon restored the cozy atmosphere. across the room, sunoo's fingers flew across his computer keyboard, the soft clacking filling the air. his focus remained unwavering, even as woonggi's gaze shifted toward him.

"what are you typing anyway?" woonggi asked, his voice tinged with curiosity, as he looked up at sunoo, whose feet rested casually next to his head. "i thought you finished your paper a while ago?" woonggi's question hung in the air, awaiting clarification.

sunoo's response was nonchalant, his eyes never leaving the screen. "i'm making myself a study guide for the exam due next month." the soft glow of the computer screen illuminated sunoo's features, highlighting his intent expression. his hands continued their swift dance across the keyboard, the only sound breaking the silence.

woonggi's head lolled to the side, his expression incredulous. "you gotta be kidding me. it's not due for a month, you nerd," he groaned, his voice laced with playful exasperation. sunoo's fingers never paused in their typing rhythm. "nerds are hot," he replied, his tone effortlessly nonchalant. woonggi scoffed, rolling his eyes. "whatever."

you tuned out the banter, focusing on the pages of "sleeping beauty" in front of you. your brow furrowed in annoyance. why did the prince have to awaken aurora? she was fine, peaceful, in her slumber. his kiss, uninvited and presumptuous, stirred unnecessary complications. the notion bothered you. who wrote these mundane tales, anyway? didn't they realize the beauty in subtlety, in silence? as you pondered, the soft clacking of sunoo's keyboard and woonggi's occasional snicker filled the background, a gentle reminder of their presence.

you turned the page, your eyes scanning the text with renewed skepticism. the prince's actions reeked of entitlement, disregarding aurora's autonomy. your mind wandered to the darker, vampiric tales you'd read, where sleep was a vulnerability, not a romantic plot device.

sunoo's typing slowed, and he leaned back in his chair, eyes still fixed on the screen. "almost done," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. woonggi, now sitting up, stretched his arms overhead, arching his back. "finally, i'm starving," he declared, standing up and shaking off his languid pose. "let's grab some food." you marked your page with a slender finger, hesitant to leave the cozy nook. "i'll stay here, finish this chapter."

sunoo nodded, his gaze flicking to you before returning to his screen. "we'll bring you something." woonggi winked. "don't worry, we won't disturb your prince-filled reverie." with a chuckle, he headed downstairs, sunoo following closely. their footsteps faded into the background hum of the library. the silence enveloped you once more, broken only by the occasional creak of old bookshelves. you refocused on "sleeping beauty," your thoughts intertwining with the tale's dark undertones. as you read on, a faint rustling echoed from the floor below, growing louder. footsteps, lighter than woonggi's or sunoo's, approached the cozy nook.

you immersed yourself in the tale, aurora's impending awakening captivating your attention. would she exact vengeance on the prince who dared disturb her slumber?

the faint "psst" pierced the air, a gentle whisper that made your ear perk up. you turned toward the staircase, expecting to see woonggi or sunoo returning with snacks. but the staircase was empty, the landing quiet. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. had you misheard? was the sound meant for someone else?

the silence stretched, with no further noise or movement. shrugging, you returned to your book, curiosity about aurora's fate overriding the momentary distraction. as you delved back into the story, your mind wandered to the darker possibilities. perhaps aurora would unleash a vampiric wrath upon the prince, teaching him the true meaning of eternal sleep. lost in the tale, you didn't notice the subtle shift in the room's atmosphere or the pair of eyes watching you from the shadows.

the second, more insistent whistle, left no doubt – someone was trying to get your attention. you straightened, crossing your legs and leaning back on your hands, eyes scanning the room with a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

"a little dramatic, don't you think?" you whispered, voice low but audible, as you searched for the source. "if you're trying to scare me, i think you've lost that opportunity." your senses heightened, taking in every detail. the soft creak of old bookshelves, the faint scent of dusty pages, and the gentle hum of the library's ventilation system. your gaze swept the cozy nook, lingering on potential hiding spots. the shadows cast by the candles seemed to deepen, as if darkness itself was watching. your skin prickled, but you refused to show unease.

"show yourself," you murmured, eyes narrowing, daring the mysterious person to reveal their presence. a faint rustle, like silk brushing against fabric, echoed from the corner of the room. the sound was subtle, but unmistakable.

with lightning-quick reflexes, you stood up, hand raised, and unleashed a small, shimmering blue bolt. the energy shot across the room, striking its target with precision.

the figure, attempting to flee between bookshelves, let out a pained "ah!" as the bolt hit their hand. the impact halted their escape. you strode confidently toward the stunned individual, arms crossing over your chest. recognition sparked as you took in the familiar features. "well, well, well," you said, a sly smirk spreading across your face.

the person, now immobilized, looked up at you with a mix of shock and embarrassment. their hand, still throbbing from the blue bolt, cradled against their chest. the dim library lighting danced across their chagrined expression, illuminating the faint flush rising to their cheeks.

"you're not very scary," you added, eyes glinting with amusement. the air was charged with tension, but your demeanor remained relaxed, commanding.

hyunwoo's scoff was accompanied by a captivating smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. he effortlessly rose to his feet, towering over you with his imposing stature. his uniform accentuated his toned physique, making him appear even more formidable.

"wasn't trying to scare you, sweet thing" he assured, deep chuckling while nursing his hand, the blue bolt's aftermath still evident. you maintained your smile, intrigued by the mystery surrounding his actions. "so, why were you hiding, then?" you asked, curiosity lacing your voice. hyunwoo's gaze locked onto yours, his expression transitioning from playful to intense. "wanted to talk to you... alone," he admitted, his deep voice low and smooth.

the air seemed to thicken, heavy with unspoken intentions. the library's gentle hum and soft candlelight receded into the background, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a bubble of tension.

hyunwoo's eyes, dark and piercing, held yours, as if daring you to probe deeper. his proximity, coupled with the uniform's tailored fit, made your heart flutter. "what's so important it requires secrecy?" you pressed, voice steady, despite the growing anticipation. hyunwoo's smile returned, cryptic and alluring. "you'll see," he whispered, his breath grazing your ear.

hyunwoo strode past you, his gesture beckoning you to follow. you trailed behind, curiosity piqued, as he led you to a secluded corner of the upstairs section.

a small, elegant table came into view, adorned with a breathtaking bouquet of black dahlia flowers. their dark, velvety petals seemed to absorb the surrounding light, exuding an air of mystery. beside the flowers, a slender envelope rested, its surface embossed with an intricate silver seal. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you turned to hyunwoo, seeking explanation. he stood beside the table, a captivating smile spreading across his face.

"what's this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. hyunwoo's eyes sparkled with amusement. "a gift, and a message," he replied, his tone low and enigmatic. he reached out, gently lifting the envelope, and handed it to you. the seal felt cool against your fingertips.

"open it," he encouraged, his gaze never leaving yours. the air was heavy with anticipation, the black dahlias seeming to witness the unfolding moment. you broke the seal, and a faint scent of sandalwood wafted out. inside, a small message was scribbled on the note: "you free on white day?." your eyes met hyunwoo's, searching for clarity. hyunwoo's eyes crinkled at the corners as his charming smile grew wider. he took another step closer, his voice dropping to a gentle, persuasive tone.

"i was thinking we could get to know each other, and maybe..." he paused, his gaze locking onto yours, "i could try going on a date with a cutie like you." your eyebrows shot up in surprise, suspicion swiftly following. "you want to take me on a date?" you asked, incredulity lacing your voice.

hyunwoo's name was already on your lips, a protest forming, when you began shaking your head. but he swiftly intercepted, his words spilling out in a passionate rush. "look, i know you and heeseung just broke up a couple of weeks ago, but i'm not that kinda man," hyunwoo assured, the southern drawl very clear in his voice, his eyes burning with sincerity. his hand reached out, gently grasping your wrist, halting your motion. the touch sent a spark through your skin.

"i'm gonna stop you right there," you declared, hand firmly planting on hyunwoo's chest, halting his advance. your finger rose, counting off points. "one," you began, "me and heeseung never dated, it was a fling."

hyunwoo's gaze flicked to your raised finger, then back to your face, intrigue dancing in his eyes. "two," your second finger joined the first, emphasizing your point. "i'm not really looking for a..." your words trailed off, lost to the sudden gasp echoing through the air.

your eyes met hyunwoo's, confusion mirrored in his expression. simultaneously, you both turned to locate the source of the sound. hyunwoo's head swiveled behind him, while your gaze shot upward, and your eyes widened in shock.

sunoo and woonggi were suspended on the wall, their bodies eerily bent like spiders, their faces frozen in rapt attention. their eyes locked onto you and hyunwoo, an unspoken understanding passing between them. your face flushed with embarrassment. quickly, you spun hyunwoo back around, ensuring his focus remained solely on you.

"sorry! i just lost my train of thought," you said hastily, attempting to divert attention from the eavesdropping duo. hyunwoo's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the sudden shift in conversation.

"i was saying, um, yeah, i uh, i'm not really looking for a..." your words stumbled, and hyunwoo's brow rose, anticipating the completion. "boyfriend?" he offered, his tone gentle. you struggled to regain composure, aware of sunoo and woonggi's attentive ears. "well," you began, forcing a carefree tone. “cause i dont understand darling, just give me a chance-”

but before he could continue, your words tumbled out in a jumbled rush: "lets just go on a date." hyunwoo's confusion was palpable. "what?" he asked, ensuring he'd heard correctly. your bright, forced smile masked the irritation brewing toward your eavesdropping friends. "yeah, on white day. like you said," you nodded, trying to sound enthusiastic. hyunwoo's face lit up, oblivious to the underlying tension. "well, that's just perfect then!" he exclaimed, reaching for your hands.

his dry skin sent a shiver through you, but you suppressed the urge to pull away. as his hands enveloped yours, a spark of electricity ran through your body. you couldn't help but wonder if this date would be a disaster or a surprise sunoo and woonggi remained suspended, silent observers to the unfolding scene.

"i'll see you then, darling," hyunwoo said, handing you the black dahlias and releasing your hands. with a charming wink, he waved goodbye and descended the stairs.

as soon as he vanished from view, your expression transformed. you hissed, eyes flashing upward, seeking the elusive eavesdroppers. but woonggi and sunoo had vanished, leaving no trace. seething, you stomped back to the cozy corner, book abandoned. upon arrival, you spotted the culprits lounging, feigning busyness.

"give me one good reason not to throw you out that window right now," you snarled, baring teeth. sunoo's giggles escaped despite his attempt to stifle them. "we had to make sure you were alright," he excused, peeking from behind a book.

woonggi nodded in agreement. "yeah, we saw you weren't here anymore, so we went to find you." sunoo's muffled laughter resurfaced. "then we found you and hyunwoo..." his voice trailed off, hiding behind the book once more.

woonggi chuckled, leaning forward in his chair. "so? you're gonna see him on white day, right?" he asked, seeking confirmation. their amusement only fueled your irritation. "you two were spying on me!" you accused, hands on hips. sunoo and woonggi exchanged a look, their grins synchronizing.

"research," sunoo corrected, still chuckling. "we're ensuring your love life is on track." woonggi nodded vigorously. "yeah, and hyunwoo seems perfect." your frustration simmered, but their playful banter chipped away at your resolve. as you glared at sunoo and woonggi, your mind wandered to hyunwoo. his charming smile, piercing eyes, and effortless confidence left a lasting impression. you couldn't deny the flutter in your chest when he touched your hand or the way his words made you feel seen. his interest seemed genuine, and the black dahlias' symbolism – commitment and loyalty – resonated deeply.

but caution lingered. you'd been burned before by your own mother, and trust didn't come easily. "where's the food?" you asked, shifting the focus away from hyunwoo and the fluttering in your chest. you adjusted your grip on the beautiful black dahlias, their delicate petals and subtle scent calming your nerves.

sunoo sprang up from the plush armchair, phone in hand, checking his reflection with a self-absorbed grin. he smoothed his tousled hair, ensuring every strand was perfectly in place. "oh right, we came back to get you so we could all just go eat in the dining hall," sunoo said casually, tucking his phone into his pocket. his bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

woonggi rose beside you, wrapping his arm around yours with a conspiratorial glance. his warm smile put you at ease, and you couldn't help but play along. "he also wanted to spy on the newcomers," woonggi whispered, eyes sparkling with mischief. his voice was low and playful, hinting at sunoo's true motives.

your sarcasm was palpable. "oh really?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. sunoo's eyes darted up, feigning innocence. "what? no, we just wanted to... observe," he said, his tone light and carefree.

you raised the other eyebrow, skeptical. "observe?" you repeated, flowers still clutched in your hand. the delicate petals seemed to mock you, reminding you of hyunwoo's thoughtful gesture. woonggi chuckled, his deep laughter rumbling through the cozy room. "yeah, see if anyone's worthy of joining our crew," he said, his arm tightening around yours. sunoo nodded vigorously, his bangs bouncing with the motion.

"we can't let just anyone in, you know," he added, his expression serious for a moment before cracking a smile. the banter was familiar, comforting. but your mind still lingered on hyunwoo and the mysterious date. the way he said "darling" echoed in your thoughts, sending a shiver down your spine.

meanwhile, the three of you strolled toward the dining hall, laughter and conversation flowing effortlessly. the black dahlia bouquet remained securely in your grasp, its delicate petals and subtle scent intertwining with the warmth of the evening.

sunoo regaled you with an animated story, his hands gesturing wildly, while woonggi chuckled and playfully interjected. you couldn't help but giggle at their antics. as you turned a corner, heeseung came into view, leaning against the wall with two friends. his eyes locked onto yours, and a charming smile spread across his face.

but his expression faltered as his gaze dropped to the bouquet in your hands. confusion etched his features, followed by a flicker of curiosity. 'did someone give you that?' he wondered, his mind racing. heeseung's eyes narrowed, focusing on the blood-red bow and the small, intricate sigil attached to it. the symbol was unmistakable – a mark of the pure-blood families. a shadow crossed his face, and his jaw clenched. anger simmered beneath the surface, fueled by the thought of someone else giving you such a meaningful gift.

your laughter and carefree smile only intensified his emotions. he watched, transfixed, as you ran a hand through your hair, the bouquet cradled in your other arm. heeseung's friends exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the shift in his mood. they murmured something, attempting to break the tension, but heeseung's attention remained fixed on you. the air seemed to thicken, heavy with unspoken emotions and unresolved history.

"i'm gonna go put these in my room really quick," you told sunoo and woonggi, hastily excusing yourself with the precious black dahlia bouquet.

as you jogged toward your dormitory, the flowers' delicate petals seemed to dance in your grasp. you slowed to a walk, ascending the stairs to the second floor.

suddenly, a familiar sound pierced the air: "psst." your gaze swept the area, searching for the source. but the hallway remained empty, devoid of any signs of life. your eyebrows furrowed, confusion giving way to a sly smile. you suspected only one person would tease you thus – hyunwoo.

a group of boys passed by, engrossed in a video game on their phone, oblivious to your brief pause. you continued toward the music room, its door slightly ajar. the soft glow of the room beckoned. "i told you already, you're not scary," you whispered, laughing as you slid into the room.

but before you could fully enter, your body was slammed against the nearby wall with a resounding thud. the impact knocked the wind from your lungs. you moaned in pain, your vision blurring for an instant. as you looked up, your eyes widened in shock.

it wasn't hyunwoo's charming smile or piercing gaze that met yours – but shiloh's intense, brooding stare. his eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire, and his grip on your shoulders tightened.

he had a look of worry and aggression, his eyes blazing with an inner turmoil. "shiloh-" your words were cut off abruptly as he ripped the black dahlias from your grasp. shiloh strode away, scrutinizing the flowers with an unnerving intensity. he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible.

"..yes....i know...he'll be fine...im not gonna apologize, especially when-" your gasp filled the silence, hand clutching your chest where the flowers once rested. the air crackled with tension as you summoned a burst of energy. an electric shock ball materialized, shooting toward shiloh's back. the blast sent him stumbling across the desks, flowers slipping from his fingers. the bouquet scattered on the floor, petals trembling from the impact.

seizing the opportunity, you rushed to gather the scattered flowers. as you hastily retrieved the last petal, shiloh's growl echoed through the room.

however, shiloh's recovery was swift and relentless, his athletic build allowing him to leap from the desks with ease. his eyes blazed with a fierce determination, his jaw set in a resolute line.

you barely had time to react as he tackled you to the floor, the impact sending shockwaves through your body. your palms scraped against the cold tile, and your shoulders jarred from the sudden collision. the black dahlias slipped from your grasp, petals scattering across the floor like dark, velvety tears. the delicate stems snapped, their beauty lost amidst the chaos.

"shiloh, stop! what are you doing?" you shouted, alarm and frustration mingling in your voice. your words echoed off the music room's acoustic panels, amplifying the desperation. shiloh's response was a primal growl, his eyes burning with an inner fire. his face was inches from yours, his warm breath dancing across your skin. he pinned you down, using his body weight to immobilize you. his chest pressed against yours, the heat from his skin seeping into yours. you groaned, straining against his grip. your legs flailed, attempting to dislodge him, but shiloh's strength was unyielding. his hands encircled your wrists, holding them captive above your head.

"let me go!" you demanded, voice rising. your pulse pounded in your temples, and your mind raced with fear. shiloh's gaze locked onto the scattered flowers, his expression twisted in anguish. his eyes seemed to hold a deep sorrow, a pain that threatened to consume him. "those flowers...they're not what you think," he muttered, his voice barely audible. his words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken meaning. the flowers, once a symbol of hyunwoo's affection, now seemed tainted by shiloh's ominous warning.

swiftly noticing shiloh's momentary lapse in focus, you seized the opportunity to strike. with a surge of adrenaline, you summoned the last vestiges of your energy.

electricity sparks began to crackle and dance across your body, enveloping you in a halo of blue-white light. the air around you charged with anticipation, as if the very atmosphere itself was electrified. the sparks intensified, arcing outward like miniature lightning bolts. whatever touched you would be shocked, and shiloh, still within proximity, was the first to feel the effects.

his body tensed, rigid and unyielding, as if he'd been struck by a taser. "gah!" he gritted through clenched teeth, his eyes wide with shock. shiloh's muscles locked, his limbs splayed awkwardly, and his body toppled off yours. the sudden release freed you from confinement.

gasping, you halted your ability, and the electrical discharge dissipated. the sparks vanished, leaving behind an eerie silence. you took a deep, shuddering breath, your chest heaving with exertion. your heart still racing, you assessed the situation. shiloh lay sprawled on the floor, slowly regaining control over his muscles. his eyes narrowed, burning with a mix of anger and caution. here is

you quickly crawled up and grabbed your flowers that were now falling apart. you crawled towards the sliding door and opened it wider, panting as you crawled out, attempting to stand up but only making it a few steps into the hallway and falling to your knees in exhaustion.

your hands grasped for the battered black dahlias, petals dropping like dark tears as you gathered the fragile stems. with the flowers clutched tightly, you crawled toward the sliding door, its glass pane reflecting the chaos within. you pushed it wider, the soft whoosh of the door's mechanism a stark contrast to the turmoil inside.

as you exited, the cooler hallway air enveloped you, offering little respite from the turmoil. your breath came in ragged gasps, exhaustion and adrenaline warring within.

you struggled to stand, legs trembling beneath you. each step felt like an eternity, your knees buckling under the weight of fatigue. only a few feet into the hallway, your strength abandoned you. your knees hit the floor with a soft thud, the impact jarring your already frayed nerves. the black dahlias slipped from your grasp, petals scattering across the polished floor. your vision blurred, and for a moment, the world spun around you.

suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted and cradled, enveloped in a warm, secure embrace. strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the cold floor. you could hear someone speaking to you, their voice low and soothing, but the words blur together, indecipherable. your mind struggles to focus, but exhaustion overwhelms you.

your eyelids grow heavy, weighted down by fatigue. no matter how hard you try, you can't shake off the relentless sleepiness. as your consciousness fades, you're vaguely aware of the person carrying you breaking into a run. their footsteps pound the ground, rhythmic and steady.

the world around you dissolves into a haze, sounds muffled and distant. you feel the gentle bounce of each step, the warmth of the person's chest against your cheek. despite the turmoil, you feel a strange sense of safety, protected in this embracing cocoon. your thoughts fragment, scattering like leaves on the wind.

sleep claims you, pulling you under its dark, soothing waves. your last awareness is of the steady heartbeat against your ear, a lullaby of sorts.

...everything fades to black.

you woke up slowly, to the sound of three voices, their laughter and conversation drifting through the air like a gentle breeze. your body ached, protesting even the slightest movement, so you lay still, letting your eyes blink open slowly.

as your gaze focused, you saw three figures sitting in a relaxed circle around you. woonggi and sunoo were easily recognizable, their smiles and laughter familiar. but the third voice, the third person, was a mystery. your eyes narrowed, trying to place them.

"wow, so you're like pretty good at swimming," its tone light and teasing.

"i suppose, i tend to work out a lot in general, so," the voice was deep with a small chuckle.

"yeah, i can totally see that," another tone chimed in.

your eyesight blurred, a hazy fog lingering as you struggled to focus. the room spun, and your gaze drifted, searching for an anchor.

woonggi and sunoo's playful banter wafted through the air, their flirtatious tones intertwining with the unknown person's smooth responses. but then, a scent wafted in, slicing through the chaos. amber and cinnamon, a warm, inviting blend that stirred something deep within.

your eyes trailed the fragrance, homing in on its source. the person beside you, clad in a black school blazer, seemed to radiate the aroma. slowly, you turned your head upwards, hesitant to break the spell. the side profile of the newcomer came into view, chiseled features and sharp jawline. your mind faltered, unable to recall his name. but the memory of his face lingered, etched from that fateful assembly.

"oh my devil! y/n! are you okay? can you hear us?" sunoo's anxious voice pierced the air as he rushed to your side, his eyes scanning your face.

you lay in the elevated medical coffin, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the schools infirmary. but your mind was a jumbled mess. woonggi stood up, pouting, "yah, y/n, you said you were going to our dorm, you liar!" his playful scolding was a stark contrast to the concern etched on sunoo's face. you groaned, your body protesting every movement. your voice, hoarse from disuse, cracked as you spoke, "what's going on?"

"yeah, that's what we wanna know, you idiot," woonggi shot back, earning a stern elbow from sunoo. sunoo's gentle touch on your shoulder was a soothing balm. "easy, y/n, take your time." you closed your eyes, wincing silently as pain lanced through your body. memories swirled, fragmented and elusive.

"i cant remember..." you trailed off, frustration creeping in.

"jake said he saw you crawling out of the music room and collapsed on the floor," sunoo began, his words measured. "then he saw a guy running out of the music room. did someone do something to you? cause i'll fucking stake someone—"

"stop talking so fast," you groaned, slowly pulling the blankets off you. your head spun, and sunoo's words blurred together.

as you turned to your right, a stranger's face came into view. his features were chiseled, with piercing brown eyes that seemed to hold a deep intensity. "and who's jake...?" you asked, your gaze locked onto the mysterious figure. jake's expression softened, and he nodded, "please, call me jaeyun. i saw you... struggling. i'm glad i was able to get you help."

jaeyun bowed with refined elegance, his movements fluid and precise, like a prince acknowledging his subject. you reciprocated with a slow, awkward bow, "right... um, yes, thank you." your eyes darted between jaeyun and your friends, a mix of gratitude and unease swirling within.

sunoo's concerned voice broke the silence, "you don't remember what happened?" his brow furrowed, eyes scanning your face. you took a moment to gather your thoughts, but like a dam breaking, memories flooded back. shiloh's ominous words echoed in your mind: "the flowers aren't what you think they are."

your gaze dropped, and your brow furrowed. "black dahlias..." you whispered, the words barely audible. sunoo's confusion was palpable. "what?" he leaned in, his voice soft.

your head snapped upwards, scanning the room frantically, as if searching for a lost piece of yourself. "where's the flowers?" your voice was laced with urgency, a hint of desperation creeping in. you pulled your legs towards the edge, ready to stand, but woonggi's firm hand on your shoulder held you back. his grip was gentle yet firm, concern etched on his face.

"hyunwoo's?" woonggi asked, exchanging a questioning glance with sunoo. the soft glow of the dorm room's lamp cast a warm light on their worried expressions. you nodded fervently, your eyes pleading for understanding. memories of shiloh's ominous words and the black dahlias' eerie beauty swirled in your mind.

sunoo and woonggi shrugged, turning to jaeyun for answers. he stood with arms politely clasped, his expression serene, like a statue untouched by the turmoil around him. noticing everyone's gaze, jaeyun explained, "when i found you, there were no flowers..." his voice trailed off, accompanied by a charming smile, as if expecting praise for his good deed. your confusion deepened. you were certain you'd grabbed the black dahlias and brought them with you, their delicate petals and dark centers etched in your memory.

jaeyun's smile faltered for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something else in his eyes, before he recovered. just then, his phone chimed softly, breaking the tension. he pulled it from his pocket, scanning the text message. his eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of intrigue on his face. "oh, i've gotta get going, but it was very nice meeting you three," jaeyun said, his bright smile reclaiming its place. the warmth in his tone seemed genuine, yet you sensed an undercurrent of haste. sunoo and woonggi bowed, shy smiles on their faces, as jaeyun turned to leave. "make sure to take care of yourself," jaeyun said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he addressed you. for a moment, his gaze held a depth that made you wonder if he saw more than he let on.

with a final nod, jaeyun departed, leaving an air of mystery in his wake. the soft click of the door closing behind him echoed through the room. as the silence stretched, sunoo whispered, "what just happened?" his brow furrowed, confusion etched on his face.

woonggi's eyes narrowed. "and what's with the flowers?" his tone held a hint of suspicion. you sat, lost in thought, the black dahlias' significance weighing heavily on your mind. shiloh's words, jaeyun's enigmatic smile, and the flowers' disappearance swirled into a maddening puzzle.

you shook your head in frustration, trying to clear the jumbled thoughts. but before you could speak, a nurse walked in, his dark orange scrubs a vibrant contrast to the dull hospital room. "i see you're awake," he said with a warm smile. you nodded, still trying to gather your bearings. "we took care of him," woonggi chimed in, a chuckle underlying his voice. the nurse's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "i see that as well."

he approached you, a small flashlight in hand. "let's check your pupils." you winced as the bright light pierced your eyes, but obeyed, following the beam as instructed. "you know, using your abilities continuously can be draining for half-bloods. your human side is not meant to withhold such strength,” he lightly scolded, “you may be feeling a bit of aching everywhere and sensitivity to loud noises for a little while," the nurse began, scribbling notes on his clipboard.

woonggi whispered to sunoo, his voice barely audible, "check and check." his smirk hinted at amusement. sunoo stifled a snicker, his eyes darting between you and the nurse.

the nurse continued, oblivious to the exchange. "i’ll give you just some painkillers for the aching. you're lucky to have such attentive friends. please just rest for today." as the nurse finished his examination and left, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

"jaeyun is so hot, i'm jealous he didn't pick me up," woonggi whined, his eyes sparkling with playful envy. sunoo nodded, his voice filled with awe. "can you believe he has a body like that with just swimming?" but your mind was elsewhere, consumed by the dark memories of shiloh's attack. his sinister power, the feel of his hands on you, the black dahlias....

your heart racing, you stood up as quickly as you could, grabbing your ruby blazer and throwing it over your shoulders. the familiar weight of the fabric offered a semblance of comfort. "lets head back to the dorm, i need to tell you guys something," you said, urgency lacing your tone. woonggi and sunoo exchanged curious glances but followed you without question.

as you stormed out of the infirmary, the bright fluorescent lights gave way to the dimly lit corridors of the school. your footsteps echoed through the empty halls, your mind racing with the words you'd say to your friends.

two hours had passed since your revelation, and the familiar dorm room now felt like a battleground. the shouting echoed through the vents, a cacophony of emotions. "stop yelling, please!" you pleaded, holding onto your head, trying to ward off the brewing headache.

sunoo stood up from his closed coffin, his eyes wide with disbelief. "we've gotta tell someone," he urged, his voice laced with urgency. woonggi gestured dramatically towards the door. "that fucker is out there, probably waiting to attack someone else!" his face reddened with anger. you sighed, attempting to reason with your friends. "you don't get it. i think... i think he was trying to warn me." sunoo and woonggi exchanged incredulous glances, their expressions unyielding.

"y/n, listen to me," woonggi began, his voice measured, each syllable enunciated slowly. "shiloh is a psychopath, who wanted to hurt you." his hands grasped yours, warmth and concern radiating from his touch. "he attacked you, left you for dead," sunoo added, his tone firm but gentle. "what warning could possibly justify that?"

you shook your head, struggling to articulate the fragmented thoughts. "the black dahlias... shiloh's words... it felt like a message." woonggi's grip tightened. "a message? he nearly killed you!" the divide between your perspectives seemed insurmountable.

"you guys don't understand," you tried to explain, pulling your hands free from woonggi's grasp. "shiloh's never been one to involve himself with people. he's always kept to himself."

sunoo's expression softened slightly, curiosity replacing some of the anger. "what makes you think he was trying to warn you, specifically?" you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "it's just... shiloh's always been distant, never participating in classes or social events. but that day, he sought me out. and those flowers... the black dahlias... they meant something."

woonggi's skepticism remained unwavering. "so, you're saying this psychopath, who's been hiding in the shadows, suddenly decides to attack you because..of the flowers?"

you nodded, conviction growing. "exactly. shiloh is too timid... 'the flowers aren't what you think they are'... it's like he was trying to tell me something without saying it outright." sunoo's eyes narrowed. "but what could he possibly want to warn you about?" you shook your head, frustration mounting. "that's what i need to figure out." the room fell silent, each of you lost in thought.

sunoo's voice broke the silence, his tone cautious. "y/n, promise me we're going to tell someone about shiloh and what he did."

you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "y/n, promise me," sunoo repeated, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for assurance. woonggi's gaze also bore into you, equally concerned. you took a deep breath, weighing your options. "i... i need to do something about this myself." sunoo's eyes widened. "what do you mean?"

your resolve hardened. "i'm going to find shiloh myself. i need to know why he did what he did." woonggi's face fell, alarm etched on his features. "y/n, no! that's crazy! sunoo's voice rose. "you can't seriously think that's a good idea!" you stood firm, determination burning within. "i have to know the truth. and i have to hear it from him." the room fell silent once more, tension hanging heavy.

woonggi's expression transformed from concern to determination. he strode to his dresser, yanked open a drawer, and pulled out a sharp comb. "alright, we're going with you," woonggi declared, his eyes flashing with resolve.

sunoo's face reflected his internal struggle, but eventually, he nodded in agreement. "we can't let you do this alone." you felt a surge of gratitude toward your friends. "we'll find shiloh together," sunoo vowed, his voice firm.

woonggi began to comb his hair with swift, aggressive strokes. "and when we do, he'll regret ever messing with you." the comb's sharp teeth glinted in the dim light, a makeshift weapon at the ready. "let's move," woonggi said, tucking the comb into his back pocket. sunoo stood, his eyes locked on yours. "stay sharp. we don't know what we're up against." with a deep breath, the three of you set out to uncover the truth behind shiloh's ominous warning and the mysterious black dahlias. the corridors of eternal academy loomed before you, shrouded in uncertainty.

you three scoured the school grounds, searching every nook and cranny for any sign of shiloh. the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the deserted corridors, and illuminating the vibrant colors of the autumn leaves. the crisp air carried the scent of damp earth and decaying foliage.

"where could he be?" sunoo muttered, frustration etched on his face, his brow furrowed in concern.

woonggi checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. "we've been searching for hours. he can't just vanish." you decided to try another approach, your mind racing with possibilities. "let's check his dorm. maybe someone's seen him."

as you entered shiloh's dormitory, you were greeted by the familiar sight of his dorm-mates lounging on their beds, surrounded by scattered textbooks and laptops. the soft glow of the evening lights cast a warm ambiance.

"hey, have you guys seen shiloh?" you asked, approaching ej, who was engrossed in a video game.

ej paused his game, his eyes squinting slightly. "haven't seen him since morning announcements." taki, who was reading a novel on his bed, nodded in agreement. "yeah, he left right after assembly. kept mumbling to himself that he had stuff to take care of." you exchanged concerned glances with sunoo and woonggi, your hearts sinking.

"did he say what he was doing?" sunoo asked, his voice laced with curiosity. ej shrugged, his shoulders barely rising off the bed. you thanked them for the information, your minds racing with possibilities. "where could he be?" woonggi wondered aloud, his voice barely above a whisper.

sunoo's expression turned grim, his jaw clenched. "and what's he planning?” the darkness gathering outside seemed to mirror the uncertainty within. the school's usually lively atmosphere had given way to an eerie silence.

as you stepped out of the dorm, the cool night air enveloped you, carrying the faint scent of smoke from the school's chimney. "let's check the library," you suggested, a hunch forming in your mind. sunoo nodded. "and then the greenhouses. maybe he's hiding something." woonggi's hand instinctively went to the comb in his back pocket. "we'll find him." the three of you ventured into the night, determined to uncover shiloh's secrets.

you winced, a sharp pang stabbing through your temples. your head was throbbing, the tension and worry over shiloh's disappearance taking its toll. "ugh, not now," you muttered, digging into your pocket for the bottle of painkillers.

you quickly popped another tablet into your mouth, dry-swallowing it with a grimace. sunoo's concerned gaze met yours. "y/n, maybe we should take a break. you're not exactly..." you shook your head, cutting him off. "no, we need to keep looking. we can't just leave shiloh out there."

woonggi's eyes narrowed. "what if he doesn't want to be found?" you pushed on, determination driving you forward. "then we'll just have to try harder." the painkiller began to kick in, numbing the ache in your head. but your mind remained razor-sharp, focused on the task at hand.

"library's next," sunoo reminded, his voice softening. as you entered the library, the musty scent of old books enveloped you. the dim lighting and hushed atmosphere felt like a refuge from the darkness outside. you scanned the shelves, searching for any sign of shiloh. the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of pages.

"i think we should split up to cover more ground," you suggested, your voice barely above a whisper. sunoo's eyes narrowed, concern etched on his face. "are you sure that's a good idea? we should stick together." woonggi's eyes widened, his voice trembling. "no, no, no. bad idea. what if we get separated? what if... what if shiloh's lurking around to attack us?"

noticing woonggi’s courage was now gone, you reassured them with a nod. "we'll be fine. we can cover more ground this way. meet back here in 20 minutes?" sunoo hesitated, his gaze lingering on you. "be careful, okay?" woonggi's anxiety was palpable. "what if i find something? what if... what if i find him?" you offered a reassuring smile. "just shout. we'll hear you."

with reluctant nods, the three of you parted ways, disappearing into the labyrinthine corridors of the old victorian library. the creaking of wooden shelves and faint rustle of pages echoed through the silence as you ventured deeper.

your footsteps echoed off the high ceilings, the ornate chandeliers casting flickering shadows on the walls. you navigated through rows of dusty bookshelves, scanning the titles for any clues. every now and then, you'd catch a glimpse of sunoo or woonggi, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of candles.

you walked down the aisle of bookshelves, the soft creaking of the wooden floorboards beneath your feet echoing through the silence. the air grew thick with the musty scent of old books and dust, and the faint glow of overhead lamps cast long shadows across the walls.

as you delved deeper into the library's shadowy and isolated areas, the silence seemed to swell, like a living entity enveloping you. you strained your ears, ready to pick up any sound that might betray shiloh's presence. your footsteps slowed, and you paused, listening intently. the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the old building.

suddenly, a faint rustle caught your attention. you froze, your heart quickening. the sound came from the next row of bookshelves, about 20 feet away. you crept forward, your senses on high alert. the rustling grew louder, accompanied by the soft whisper of pages turning. your hand instinctively went to the edge of the bookshelf, using it for cover as you peeked around the corner.

you peeked around the corner, and your gaze landed on none other than jake, leaning effortlessly against a bookcase. his eyes sparkled with amusement as he charmed three besotted boys, who gazed at him with adoration. "you're literally a work of art, jake," one of them sighed.

"i know, right?" jaeyun replied, flashing a disarming smile. "i've been told i'm the modern embodiment of david." the trio giggled, their eyes shining with admiration. "we wish we could be as beautiful as you," another boy said wistfully. jaeyun chuckled, his hair falling across his forehead. "beauty is subjective, boys. but thanks for the vote of confidence."

you tried not to roll your eyes at the scene unfolding before you. jaeyun’s charm was undeniable, but the fawning attention seemed excessive. as you observed, jaeyun caught your gaze, his eyes locking onto yours for a brief moment. a hint of amusement danced in his expression, as if daring you to join the fan club. you quickly looked away, feigning disinterest. but your heart skipped a beat at the brief eye-contact.

keeping to the task at hand, you looked away from jaeyun’s captivating scene and tried to seem nonchalant. you turned your head to the other side, focusing on the rows of books stretching before you. the musty scent of old pages and leather bindings enveloped you, a comforting familiarity.

you followed through the corridor of books, your footsteps quiet on the worn carpet. the shelves seemed to close in around you, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. as you walked deeper into the humongous library, the silence grew thicker, punctuated only by the occasional creak of wooden shelves or rustle of pages. the air vibrated with the weight of knowledge, each book a portal to a new world.

you wandered through the stacks, running your fingers over the spines of the books. titles blurred together – classics, bestsellers, and obscure texts. your eyes scanned the shelves, searching for a glimpse of shiloh. the library's labyrinthine layout seemed designed to get lost in. you turned a corner, entering a section dedicated to ancient civilizations. dusty tomes and leather-bound volumes lined the shelves.

you turned a corner, lost in thought, when suddenly a book fell from the shelf above, landing with a soft thud right in front of you. you jumped, your heart racing, and instinctively balled your fist with electricity spiking around it.

"you gotta be kidding me," you sighed, embarrassment washing over you. your face warmed as you realized how startled you'd been. you took a deep breath, clearing your throat nervously. "way to stay calm," you muttered to yourself. as you bent to pick up the book, you noticed its title: "the art of stealth and deception." irony wasn't lost on you.

just as you stood up, a low chuckle echoed from the prior shelves. you turn wide-eyed by the sound, "someone's a little jumpy." you turned to face the speaker, your eyes scanning the rows of books. a figure emerged from the shadows – jaeyun. his piercing gaze met yours, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "find what you're looking for?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

you sighed from relief, your tension dissipating as you recognized the boy who saved you earlier. "oh, it's just you," you said, a hint of gratitude in your voice. you closed the book, shaking your head. "i was uh... browsing..." you trailed off, attempting to come up with a convincing excuse. but before you could continue, another book fell from the shelf, landing with a thud between you two, more so in front of him. the sudden noise made you both pause.

jaeyun picked up the book, his eyes still locked on yours for a fleeting moment. you shared a look, both of you searching for answers.

you broke eye contact, gazing upwards to locate the source of the fallen book. the high shelves stretched above, rows of leather-bound tomes and dusty volumes seeming to touch the ceiling. as you scanned the shelves, jaeyun opened the book, his eyes scanning the pages. "what does it say?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

jaeyun's eyes darted towards you, a soft smile spreading across his face. "it's called... 'chance encounters, forever entwined'". the title hung in the air, filling the space between you with a promise of possibility. you exchanged gentle glances with jaeyun, the tension between you shifting from unease to anticipation.

you raised an eyebrow, "..interesting." your tone was neutral, but your mind whirled with questions. you looked back up at the high shelf where the book came from, searching for answers. but there was nothing – no sign of disturbance, no hint of movement.

the silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the soft creak of leather-bound books. jaeyun closed the book, his eyes never leaving yours. he stepped closer, his arm brushing against yours as he slid the book into a nearby shelf.

the title, "chance encounters, forever entwined", disappeared from view, but its words lingered in your mind. jaeyun's proximity made you acutely aware of the narrow space between you. his warmth and scent enveloped you, making your heart skip a beat.

you stare at his side profile and think for a second, you asked suddenly, "hey, why did you tell me to call you jaeyun instead of jake?" jaeyun's expression shifted from calm to contemplative. he looked down at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he hummed. he took a tiny step back, creating space to gather his thoughts. the movement was subtle, but it spoke volumes. you didn't realize the question would be so difficult to answer. jaeyun's voice was measured when he spoke, "i give people i don't like a... different name to call me."

his pause was deliberate, as if choosing words carefully. "meaning, they think we're close, but we aren't," he concluded, his gaze holding yours. the admission hung in the air, revealing a glimpse of jaeyun's guarded nature. you sensed a deeper meaning behind his words, a hint of vulnerability. "why tell me?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

jaeyun's eyes searched yours, as if weighing his response. "maybe i want you to know the difference," he said, his voice low and thoughtful. you felt a flutter in your chest, unsure how to interpret his words. "the difference?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. jaeyun nodded, his gaze still locked on yours.

the air thickened with tension, the distance between you shrinking. you sensed a hidden message, a promise of sorts. "and which one would i be?" you asked, your heart racing. jaeyun's smile was enigmatic. "that's for you to decide."

you felt a chill run down your spine as realization dawned. jaeyun's charming smile, the flirtatious banter – it was all a ruse. you were just another plaything to him, a temporary distraction. you werent into the idea of being treated like one of his fanboys. jaeyun's charming smile, the flirtatious banter – it was all a ruse. you were just another plaything, a temporary distraction. your gaze turned icy, narrowing as you stared at jaeyun. his expression faltered, sensing the shift in your demeanor.

an image flashed in your mind – the black dahlias. jaeyun's face, his hands carefully selecting the flowers. your mind reeled. connection after connection clicked into place. jaeyun's face, etched in your memory, was the same face that had picked up the flowers before picking you up. jaeyun's eyes, once warm and inviting, now seemed calculating. his smile, a clever facade.

you took a step forward, your voice firm. "you..." jaeyun's eyes locked onto yours, his expression transforming from calm to cautious. "...you did pick up the flowers," you stated, realization crystallizing. jaeyun's brow furrowed, his head tilting slightly in confusion.

"you lied," you accused, your tone sharpening. "why?" before you could press for answers, jaeyun began backing away, his eyes never leaving yours. he retreated down the corridor, his movements fluid and deliberate.

you sprinted after jaeyun, determined to keep pace. "wait!" you urged, your voice echoing down the corridor. jaeyun's long strides devoured the distance, but you refused to let him escape. "you know something, don't you?!" you pressed, your words tumbling out in a rush. jaeyun's pace faltered, his shoulders tensing. for an instant, he slowed, and you seized the opportunity.

you grasped his arm, spinning him around to face you. "tell me," you demanded, eyes locked on his. jaeyun's expression twisted, a mix of surprise and wariness.

before jaeyun could answer your urgent question, a sudden gust of wind swept through, sending your hair flying and books tumbling to the ground. the overwhelming scent of cherry and musk made you struggle to not appear surprised, but jaeyun remained steadfast, unmoved by the disruption.

that's when you noticed him – a newcomer standing behind jaeyun, his broad, angular shoulders exuding confidence. he didn't acknowledge you, his gaze fixed on jaeyun as he spoke in a monotone, authoritative tone. "swimming tryouts are in two hours. we should head over."

jaeyun nodded obediently, his earlier tension replaced by compliance. you felt a moment of understanding as you realized this newcomer's ability was speed – and he seemed to wield significant influence over jaeyun. the air was thick with unspoken dynamics, leaving you wondering what had just transpired.

as jaeyun and the newcomer turned to leave, you grasped jaeyun's arm, halting his departure. "jaeyun, wouldn't it be better to finish our very important conversation first?" you asked, your tone laced with urgency.

jaeyun flinched at the sound of his name, his eyes darting nervously to the newcomer. the stranger's movements slowed to a stop, his gaze locking onto jaeyun with an air of curiosity.

"jaeyun...?" he muttered, his voice tinged with a hint of surprise and questioning. you exchanged a confused glance between the two, sensing a subtle undercurrent. jaeyun offered only a sheepish shrug, his expression a mask of awkwardness. the tension hung like a challenge, awaiting resolution.

the newcomer's gaze drifted away from jaeyun's uneasy expression, tracing a deliberate path down to your hand, still wrapped around jaeyun's arm. his eyes lingered, then continued their ascent, locking onto your face with an unnerving intensity.

his dark, piercing eyes conveyed a clear message: disdain. silence hung heavy, thick with unspoken tension. no words were needed; the stranger's gaze spoke volumes. jaeyun remained frozen, caught between your grasp and his companion's disapproving stare.

the air seemed to vibrate with tension as the newcomer's gaze bore into yours. jaeyun shifted uncomfortably, his arm tensing beneath your hand. "ah, jungwon," jaeyun ventured, his voice tentative, "this is..."

jungwon’s eyes never left yours, his expression unyielding. "i know who he is," jungwon interrupted, his voice low and even. the undertone was unmistakable – a warning. jaeyun's arm slipped from your grasp, and he stepped back, creating distance.

"we’re going," jungwon stated, his eyes still locked on yours. jaeyun nodded, his eyes darting between you and his friend. "yeah, swimming tryouts," jaeyun muttered. with that, they turned to leave, jungwon's dark eyes no longer lingering on yours. how did he know who you were?

© all rights reserved to “sucker4mafia”. please do not plagiarize, steal, repost w/o credit for momentary gain.

[capuccinodoll]

The Dream

Before the sun hits (chapter three)

Summary: Joel takes a trip to your dreams, and it doesn't take long for you to let him know.

Warning: this chapter contains smut!

DECEMBER 19TH

With your coffee cup half-finished, you found yourself sitting across from your mother in what was probably the coziest place in town. Café Ophelia seemed like a love letter to the classic and romantic. It was located on the main avenue, and its charm was impossible to ignore. People came and went constantly, carrying red and brown paper bags filled with delicacies, while many held disposable coffee cups in their gloved hands. Seasonal flowers and plants adorned the place, survivors of the relentless cold outside, remaining vibrant in every nook and cranny. 

To the left, an entire wall was covered with books, arranged in a built-in library. When you walked through the door, your mother told you that the café had originally belonged to one of her high school teachers, and that after his passing, his younger brother had inherited the place without altering its essence. There was something about the place that made it feel as if time had stood still, as if it were a warm haven where one could hide from outside life. 

You walked past the shelves, your fingers brushing the worn covers of the books. You spotted editions of Shakespeare, Keats, Chaucer and were even surprised to find a copy of Bocaccio. There was a moment when you thought about grabbing one, but you restrained yourself. The aroma of coffee and soft conversations filled the air, creating an atmosphere of comfort that was hard to leave.

Now, your mother was just finishing narrating an anecdote about how she had met your father, right on that very same street, decades before.  

“It was instantaneous,” she said, her gaze lost somewhere near the ceiling. “I don't know if I could call it love at first sight, it was more like something else. Like something shook both of us at once.”

A smile broke out on your face. You always admired the love between your parents, it seemed to be such a perfect thing, as if they were meant for each other. In your case, you never felt something so strong, so definite. It wasn't for lack of trying, you just had never experienced that kind of connection, never.

“You see people every day, unfamiliar faces that don't tell you anything, they're just there. But when I saw your father, it was different. It was as if my body needed a moment to process it. Our eyes met and something inside me knew that, from that instant on, things would no longer be the same,” she continued. “After that, I just hoped to see him again, but I didn't have the courage to say anything to him.”

“And how was it that you saw him again?” you asked, although you already knew the story well. However, there was something special in the way your mother told it, a light in her eyes that made every time you heard it feel like the first.

“The next day I opened the bookstore, waiting for him to return. I thought, well, if he felt the same way I did, he has to come back. And he did. He came in, asked me what my favorite book was, and bought it. Then, he told me that he would stay in town for another week and asked me to help him with his reading.”

And she did. They spent that week seeing each other every day. At first, reading together; at the end, well, not so much. You never knew if your father had finished reading that book, though most likely he did. It was your mother's favorite, and it all had deep meaning for him. 

“I think there's something very intimate about sharing a book with someone,” your mother commented, turning her gaze back to you. “It's like showing that person a very vulnerable part of yourself. What we read says a lot about who we are. And when you share that, when you invite someone into that space, it's like you're sharing a part of your soul.”

You thought about the books you had lent Liam. Crime and Punishment, The Divine Comedy, Persuasion, and the Kafka diaries. He never returned them to you, and you were certain that he hadn't even opened them. He asked for them every time you mentioned them to him, as if he was interested, but he always remained in the promise of maybe someday getting to know that side of you. But that day never came.

“What are you guys doing tomorrow?” your mother's voice softly broke into your thoughts, distracting you. 

“I'm not sure, what would you like to do?”

“I meant you and Joel. I was thinking you could go to the movies or do something together. He could use that to clear his head a little. He's not having a very good time.”

The last thing caught your attention more than you expected. He's not having a good time? But first, that surprised you in a different way.

“Me and Joel?” you asked, somewhat puzzled.

“Didn't your father tell you?” Your mother looked at you waiting for an answer, and when you shook your head in the negative, she continued, ”We're going to dinner at the restaurant where we had our first date. We met around this time, don't you remember?”

Of course you remembered. You just forgot to make that connection.

“Are you celebrating something? I didn't know it was a special occasion, if I had, I wouldn't have come...and I'm sure Joel wouldn't either.”

“No, honey. It was always a family trip, we planned it that way. We just thought it would be nice to recreate that moment.” Her tone was soft but clear. “Your father and I wanted you to come. We've missed you so much, did you know that? And Joel was invited the same way, too.”

“I missed you guys too, though maybe I didn't say it as much.” You felt a small twinge of guilt in your chest, but you quickly brushed it away. “Besides, I'm really enjoying Canmore.”

“I know, who knows? Maybe you'll find someone special around here, too.” 

You laughed, though you felt a slight cringe at the idea. “I'm not so sure about that,” you replied, noting a reluctance in your voice.

Your mother placed both hands on the table and stared at you, as if she had just heard the silliest thing.

“I think it's about time you put that boy you were hanging out with behind you.”

Her words sounded harsher than she probably intended. She didn't know everything; well, you told her Liam was just a guy you were casually dating and that, by mutual agreement, you stopped seeing each other. You didn't mentioned the betrayal, nor the sudden engagement. Your mother wouldn't have stood for that truth. She would have jumped on the first plane to New York on the look for him, and then, maybe after a little cry on her shoulder... Yes, she would be mad at you.

“I'm over it,” you lied, as if it were the obvious thing to do. ”It just doesn't make sense to fall in love in Canmore if I have to leave in a few days."

“Think about this: your father, who is from Austin, and I, from Canmore, fell in love. Things worked out later.”

You laughed, with your mother's simple solution floating in the air. For her, everything had been easier. When she met your father, she had no family in Canmore; her parents had passed away when she was a teenager, and there were no more ties to bind her to the place. Moving to another country with the man she loved made the most sense.

“I could bring my love to Austin,” you joked. “Just like Dad did.”

“No New York?” 

The question was innocent, almost naïve. But you stayed quiet, feeling the guilt creep back into you, infiltrating the serenity you had managed to find.

“Yes, maybe to New York too.”

The silence that followed was comfortable, both of you finishing your hot drinks, letting yourself be enveloped by the tranquility of the coffee.

Before leaving, you ran your fingers through the old books in the library. An edition of The Decameron caught your eye, probably from the 1920s. The pages were yellowed, and the smell of aged paper made your nose itch. Between the lines, you could see annotations made in pencil by some unknown reader. You leaned over to read some notes in the foreword, but your mother interrupted you.

“Your father and Joel are a couple of blocks away, what do you say we go shopping and then find a nice place for dinner?”

You nodded, but Joel's name kept hanging around in your mind, dragging with it that phrase you couldn't stop thinking.

He's not having a good time.

*

The market stretched the length of the avenue, with vendors lined up under colorful awnings, offering sweets and homemade foods that filled the air with a warm, spicy aroma. Local stores were beginning to turn off their lights, preparing to close as the sun slowly descended on the horizon, tinting the sky in shades of pink and orange. It was close to seven o'clock in the evening, the cool air was beginning to settle over the town.

Your dad appeared down the sidewalk with a smile lighting up his face, patting Joel's arm playfully. Joel returned a look that was somewhere between amused and distracted, while their conversation died down as the two of them approached you.

“My precious girls, how was your afternoon?” your father greeted enthusiastically, coming over to plant a kiss on your cheek before leaning in to kiss your mother on the lips. You could tell he was in a good, relaxed mood.

“It's been wonderful,” your mother replied with a smile that reflected her own satisfaction. “What about you guys?”

Your eyes found Joel, who was now standing in front of you, avoiding your gaze with a somewhat suspicious concentration on anything but your face. His indifference seemed calculated to you, and you took the opportunity to study him in more detail. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his black jacket, and the scent of his perfume wafted up to you, soft but noticeable. You were surprised by it, just a little: you had never noticed him wearing perfume. Not even for that formal dinner at your house.

Perfume for going out to a bar? That idea left you with a funny feeling.

“We needed something like that, didn't we, Joel?” your dad said, giving his friend a knowing nudge.

“Like you have no idea,” Joel muttered, his tone drier than usual.

“I can think of something delicious for dinner tonight...” your mother began to say as she latched onto your father's arm and began to walk, leaving the conversation to flow just between them. Joel and you were left behind, in an awkward silence that you could almost touch.

You stuck your hands in your coat pockets, mimicking him. There was something in the air, something between you that you couldn't quite identify, but you felt it clearly. Maybe it was what your mother had mentioned earlier, that something that had him uneasy. The beers he'd probably had at the bar might have loosened the emotions he was carrying around. Or maybe... no, you didn't want to think about that second possibility.

After his visit to your room, you hadn't seen him again until now. He and your father left to the bar before you and your mother left the house, so you hadn't had a chance to notice if anything was different. But a few hours ago, when he stood in your doorway, looking at you... He had to have sensed the change in your voice, the way your eyes looked at him. He couldn't have missed it. And now, you felt slightly guilty about it.

Joel, one of your father's best friends, who had listened to you and supported you in a vulnerable moment, did you really need to insinuate yourself, however subtly? Probably not. But it wasn't something planned either. It was something that came up in that moment, something you couldn't control. And you'd always been told that your eyes couldn't lie.

Maybe he was uncomfortable because of it. You wish he wasn't.

“What would you like for dinner?” you asked, trying to break the silence. Up ahead, your parents were still immersed in their own conversation, oblivious to what was going on between you.

Joel let out a sigh that condensed into the cold air. “I don't know, something hot.”

“What's on your mind?” you insisted, trying to keep the dialogue going.

Finally, he turned to you with a quick, impatient glance, brow barely furrowed before averting his gaze again.

“Pasta.”

“Pasta sounds good,” you nodded, waiting for him to continue. “What kind of pasta?”

His lips tightened for a second, his jaw ticking briefly before he loosened his expression and looked at you again, this time longer.

“Which type of pasta do you prefer?” 

“Bolognese,” you said without hesitation.

“Well,” he replied, somewhat curtly, ”that one then.”

He looked straight ahead again. Clearly, something was bothering him. You could sense it in the way he avoided looking at you, and when he did, it was with a kind of reproach in his eyes, as if he had something to say to you but couldn't find the words. It was almost as if he was angry.

“Joel,” you mentioned in a soft, slightly guarded tone of voice, ”can I ask you a question?”

“I have a feeling I don't have a choice,” he replied, his tone sarcastic and disinterested, but not loud enough for your parents to hear. They were still walking a few feet ahead, your father looking a little drunk, but just enough for happiness to overwhelm him. Your mother listened attentively, laughing from time to time, absorbed in her own world.

You looked back at Joel. His comment, though predictable, bothered you a little. 

“You could just say no, next time.” Your voice came out harsher than you had planned, not disguising your irritation.

You quickened your pace, trying to join your parents and get away from him. But Joel, with his long strides, caught up with you easily. He moved a little closer, close enough that you didn't have to raise your voice much when he asked:

“What's your question, then?”

“I don't have anything to ask you anymore.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Doesn't sound like it.”

“It doesn't?”

“That's what I said.”

“Whatever. You clearly don't feel like talking. So no, I don't have any more questions to ask you.”

Joel let out a low, somewhat mocking laugh, pulling away just inches. He didn't say anything else, which, oddly enough, irritated you even more. His silence letting you know that he was in control of the situation, and that made you feel like a wayward child, even if it bothered you to admit it.

“What's funny, Joel?” you said after a while, a belated and overthought response.

“Does it make you mad that I don't feel like talking to you?” he replied, a faint, almost undetectable smile forming on his face.

Your mind couldn't help but focus on the way he decided to phrase the sentence. He could have simply said “are you mad that I don't feel like talking?” but chose to add a with you, and it hadn't sounded random at all. You didn't know what that meant. Maybe you were overanalyzing it. Maybe you were.

“No, it angers me that you're not clear. I'm a grown woman, you know? I don't need you to act like you're talking to a chatty little girl,” your voice spoke firmly. “Just say you're not in the mood to talk and I won't bother you anymore.”

“I don't mind you talking to me,” he clarified, coming back up to your level; the scent of his perfume hitting you again. “Why do you think that?”

Several reasons, you thought. From his perspective, you were his best friend's daughter, the one who, almost without knowing him, forced him into a bathroom to listen to you cry and complain about your sorry life. Oh, you did it in the cabin that morning, too, with him looking at you pityingly, following you to your room to ask how you were doing. 

What an idiot. You sure had misunderstood everything. Joel was just concerned, surely from his place as what he was; your father's best friend, father of a female daughter, Sarah. 

You felt a little foolish for having diverted your thoughts that way. And worst of all, he had surely realized it. That was humiliating. 

“Because you don't have to, Joel,” you spoke almost in a whiny whisper. “I've bothered you enough by telling you my problems. I sure have looked like a stupid little girl, crying in the bathroom, making you promise things you don't have to. It's embarrassing.”

“It's not like that,” he began to say, his voice tinged with something akin to dismay. “And you're not stupid, much less a little girl. That much is clear to me.” 

“Sometimes it feels like that. A lot of times, lately.”

“Well,” he uttered at length, his eyes meeting yours and you noticed he was searching for words to say, ”if it makes you feel any better, I think you're a grown woman who knows exactly what she's doing, and what it's causing.”

There it was. Right there, in Joel's eyes, the proof that you hadn't imagined it. Or would you be misinterpreting his words? The idea sounded far-fetched. 

Joel smiled as if he knew exactly what he had just done, and without warning, he moved a few inches away from you, closer to your parents.

Your cheeks must have flushed, the heat on your face told.  

You hurriedly covered those few centimeters that distanced you from him and opened your mouth, ready to let out a meaningless retort. But just then, your mother turned, drawing your attention. The spell was suddenly broken.

To your luck (or bad luck) at dinner, he didn't sit across from you.

*

You arrived at the cabin around ten o'clock at night. Your parents, completely in their own world, had spent the time dragging Joel through a review of the last few years; “Remember this?”, “Remember that time when we...?”, “What happened to her, Joel?”. Most of the questions asked in an amusing way, some a little somber. But Joel had enjoyed it, or so you had gathered, for he had answered and extolled each of your father's anecdotes. 

Your gazes met from time to time, but the exchange was brief; as if you were doing something on the sly, as if no one could know you were looking at each other. And that was kinda the case. He would glance at you while one of your parents was talking, and just when you noticed and mimicked him, his gaze would drop to his plate, or to anything but you. 

For your part, you had eaten almost silently, listening attentively to everything that was said at the table. Everything was simpler if no one was asking you uncomfortable questions. 

Now, back at the cabin, your parents were laughing merrily in the kitchen as they reviewed the entire day and uncorked a bottle of merlot.

You plopped down on the living room couch and checked your phone as the background conversation revolved around a former schoolmate your mother had run into today while you two were shopping. It had been a somewhat awkward encounter, the kind where you don't know how to say goodbye without sounding completely avoidant. He told her he had two children and was in the middle of a divorce, and your mother made the big mistake of asking him a question about it. It held you up for thirty minutes. 

You had nothing interesting in your incoming texts, nor in your outgoing ones. Liam... you didn't check his profile and it wasn't like you could know either; you blocked him. Ally would be very happy about that. But curiosity stalked you gently.

The weight falling next to you took your eyes off the small screen. Joel had sat to your right, a safe distance away. His body relaxed, his broad frame stretched nonchalantly....

“Would you like a glass of wine, Miller?” your father asked, craning his neck from the kitchen island.

 

“M' fine. I think I'll go to bed,” he said with both palms pressed to his eyes, ”enough for today.”

“What about you, my love?” your mother's voice echoed through the wide space of the cabin. 

“I could make use of it,” you joked, joke masked for all of them.

You got up and walked to the kitchen, where your mother extended the full cup in just the right way. 

You didn't make too much conversation either. The talk between them was interesting enough that you were just listening to their voices. That was something you had always liked about your parents; their conversations were dynamic and fun, always. Every single thing they talked about turned into the coolest thing in the world, as if they were your own audiobook, always with something entertaining to say. 

When you were a child, you would lie in the middle of them in bed, listening to them talk about different things; movies, gossip, novels, whatever. They used to say you were nosy, and maybe that was true from time to time. 

Joel was still on the couch, only now a faint sound was coming out of his mouth. Soft tired snores were moving his chest up and down. You watched him from your spot until you finished your drink and your eyes felt heavy and stinging. You rubbed them for a while, until the action became futile.

“I'm going to bed,” you said to your parents. Your mother pulled you closer to her and rested your head on her chest. Your father, a little more affectionate, squeezed you in his arms in an exaggerated manner. 

“Wake him up,” he told you, almost in a whisper. 

You nodded and walked away from his side, leaving the empty cup in the sink before crossing the kitchen and heading towards the living room. You couldn't help but pause for a second in front of him, watching his face, the soft, relaxed lines of one who is sound asleep. His calm expression, so peaceful, almost fragile, awakened in you an unbearable tenderness. The dark locks, some already intermingled with gray, fell messily over his forehead, while his lips, still stained with the red wine from dinner, remained half-open, and the beard began to unalign, just a little. You felt a sudden impulse to touch him.

“Joel,” you whispered as your fingers sank gently but firmly into his arm. “Joel, wake up.”

He stirred barely, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning. A light laugh escaped your lips, small and private. Even asleep, Joel clung to that essence so much his own.

“Come on, Joel,” you repeated, this time with a little more intent in your voice.

You put your hand back on his arm and shook him gently. Finally, his heavy eyelids lifted with effort, and he straightened up, standing still for a few seconds, elbows resting on his knees, hands covering his face as he tried to clear his head. 

You stood by his side, silently, watching him sigh with visible fatigue. When he looked up and found you, you smiled at him, and he responded with a brief smile before looking back down at the floor. After a few seconds, he rose from the couch leisurely, glancing back towards the kitchen, where your parents were still chatting about something that was already irrelevant to you.

“See you tomorrow,” Joel muttered, approaching them and, as he passed you, heading for the stairs. You followed him, without much thought.

“See you, Joel. Get well,” you heard your father tease, his voice slurring as you walked after Joel up the stairs.

He was big. You'd always known he was big, of course, but now that you saw him from behind, his back moved with a particular cadence that gave you a curious mix of excitement and nervousness. The back of his neck, visible between the tufts of hair, seemed warm, inviting a caress or, perhaps, the brush of your lips. You caught yourself imagining it, wondering what it would be like to kiss that part of him, to kiss Joel.

You entered the hallway that led to your rooms, and the distance between you shortened almost unnoticed. Joel had his back turned, about to open the door to his room, when he turned to you with an expression on his face that you couldn't quite decipher.

“Your dad told me to take care of you tomorrow,” he commented, with a tone that made you smile.

“What a coincidence, my mom told me the same thing about you.”

He smiled too, and the gesture brightened his eyes, still heavy with sleep. “She said that?”

“Yes, that's what she said,” you reaffirmed, the smile still on your face.

“Sounds like them,” Joel murmured affectionately.

You let out a sigh you didn't even know you'd been holding in since the morning, a quiet but satisfying release. You nodded, resting your hand on your doorknob, mirroring his posture.

“Yeah, it does,” you said, finally, opening the door. “Good night, Joel.”

“Good night, sweetheart,” you heard him say, his voice low and soft, before he dissappeared as he entered his room.

You closed your door tighter than necessary, surprised by how much those simple words had affected you, by the echo of his voice reverberating in your mind. The way his eyes had closed slightly as he smiled kept replaying in your memory. Maybe it had been your parents' merlot or the malbec at dinner, but later, in the shower, you found yourself fighting the urge to drag his name with your fingertips across your entire body. You fought with the idea of giving him that space, that power, without him knowing, because if you did, you'd have to acknowledge what you'd been repressing since the first time you saw him (actually saw him) sitting on your parents' couch, watching you with those dark eyes that pierced you without even trying.

No. Joel Miller hadn't the slightest idea what he had brought upon you, but somehow, you thought, he would have to pay for it.

The last thing that crossed your mind before you fell asleep, was his name.

*

A soft sound woke you. A barely perceptible thump. You closed your eyes again, convinced it would be someone going to the bathroom. Probably your dad. But then, you felt him. His weight sinking the mattress slowly behind you, his body approaching with a familiarity that quickened your pulse. A warm hand slid around your waist, squeezing you gently, his fingers sneaking under the hem of your shirt. You lay still, feeling his breath brush against the back of your neck.

You turned your head, just enough to feel his lips touch your earlobe.

“Joel...” You tried to say, but your breath caught the words in your throat.

“What do you want, huh? Staring at me like that during dinner, with your parents right there. Did you think I wouldn't notice?” His voice, a warm whisper against your skin, made a liquid sensation form in your belly.

His hand moved away from your waist, slowly sliding down, just below your navel, pressing firmly against the soft flesh. You felt his body completely pressed against yours, his heat radiating into you. Your back wedged against his chest, your ass touching his hardness. You closed your eyes and his mouth found your neck, leaving small, scattered kisses across your sensitive skin.

A moan escaped your lips as his fingers reached your center, stroking your swollen clit in slow, circular motions, wrenching a devastating sensation from you.

“Joel, please,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“What do you want, baby? Tell me. Use your words.”

Your teary eyes widened as you felt him slide a finger inside you, the rhythm of his hand increasing in intensity, making the sensation become unbearable. 

“Are you going to be a good girl and tell me what you want?” he insisted, as another finger was added, moving inside you with a precision that made you shudder.

“Fuck me, Joel. Please,” you managed to say in a weak voice, broken by urgency.

You felt him move behind you, and in an instant, his firm hand pulled down your underwear with a swiftness that took your breath away. He pulled you to him by the hips, his erection pressing against your lower back.

“Now, behave yourself and be quiet,” he murmured, caressing your thighs as he gently spread your legs. “Can you do that?”

A faint “yes” came out of your mouth as you pushed your ass towards him, seeking contact, with unfamiliar desperation. Joel placed his hand on your neck, squeezing gently as he pushed his erection inside you, each movement making you moan. But this time, the sound was caught by his hand, covering your lips.

“Quiet,” his voice, agitated and breathy, made you shiver. He pressed even harder against you, his thusts increasing in speed and depth. The sound of his hips crashing against yours became a heady melody, and your whole body felt like it was on the verge of exploding. 

His fingers in your mouth tasted of salt and yourself, and that turned you on even more. Joel gasped, the sound so intimate it made you throb inside, right where his body touched you with each thrust. The sensation became unbearable, more intense, until your legs shook with the built up tension.

You brought your hand to his, trying to hold on to something as your body convulsed in an orgasm that swept over you like an uncontrollable wave. Your hands clutched at the sheets, trying to process the tide of pleasure that washed through you.

The climax slowly subsided, and your eyes opened to find the room engulfed in darkness. Your thighs pressed together in an attempt to calm down, and your breathing hitched... It was still dark. 

The clock on your phone read three in the morning.

How had that been possible? Joel, in your dream, it was as if he had been there, beside you. You felt him, you had felt him. And it had been so much better than almost any of your real experiences. 

You were fucked, completely fucked. And, oh, God, how much you wished you were really fucked by Joel Miller. 

You sighed, sitting up in bed, your body still tender, your mind in chaos. Your mouth was dry, a thirst that only heightened the desire you'd been feeling. You turned on the lamp on the bedside table and reached under the bed for your slippers. 

As you stood up, you felt the wetness between your legs, testimony to the dream you had just had. You cursed Joel silently.

You stepped out into the hallway, your footsteps soft, and couldn't help but stare at his closed door. Just imagining he was on the other side sent an electric tingle through your belly. You decided to ignore it, forcing yourself not to think about it anymore, and walked down the stairs in silence.

When you got downstairs, you noticed the kitchen light still on and prayed it wasn't one of your parents. You walked cautiously, approaching the light, and saw him... Joel, leaning against the counter, a glass of water in his hand, the other resting in the pocket of his gray pants. His gaze was lost on the floor, his hair disheveled and his face showing the marks of recent sleep.

You thought about going back to your room, but then he saw you, startled.

“Jesus, you're quiet,” he said, ironically making you remember him  in your dream. “You scared me to death, what are you doing?”

“I need a glass of water,” you replied, approaching cautiously.

Joel moved, taking a glass out of the cabinet and setting it on the kitchen island. He opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water and slowly pouring it into the glass. You watched him, and soon realized you were looking at him a little too obviously.

He handed you the glass and leaned back on the counter, his eyes fixed on you as you drank.

“Your cheeks are pink,” he observed, which only made them redden more. “Are you okay?”

Yeah, sure. I just dreamed you fucked me, nothing major.

“I... yeah, I'm fine. I had a dream...” you started to say, slowing down for some reason. Your eyes darted down and up his body, too obvious. For some reason, when it came to him, you couldn't shut up. 

Joel looked at you a little confused, reading your countenance, and an idea seemed to pop into his mind. 

“A strange dream,” you finished, trying to play it down, though you both knew there was much more behind those words.

“A strange dream?” he said, his voice groping for your reaction. “About what?”

“I'm not sure,” you replied as you approached the sink, setting the glass down with an almost careless gesture. As you walked past him, your hand brushed his, barely, a split second that made your skin electrify. “But it woke me up.”

Joel was watching you intently, but the confusion that used to be read on his face was gone. Now, it was something else. You moved a little closer, close enough to feel his warmth. Your fingers rested on the edge of the sink, right next to his, and instead of pulling away, you stood there, caught in the proximity.

“Did it woke you up?” he murmured, his voice deep, almost a whisper, as his eyes slowly descended to your lips. “Why?”

“Because I felt it. It was so real,” you confessed, fighting the disbelief of what you were about to admit. Everything in you screamed for you to stop, but you kept going. “So real, Joel, has that ever happened to you?”

His eyes darkened, as if your words had ignited something in him. The intensity of his gaze was crushing, and the air between you grew thick, charged. Your heart pounded with a force that surprised you, as if it were possible that he could hear the frantic rhythm of your pulsing, echoing in the small space of the cabin. An exquisite panic enveloped you, a strange mixture of desire and vertigo.

“Be more specific,” he murmured, his voice rough, charged with the same tension that lit his gaze.

A smile, small and defiant, began to creep onto your lips as you prepared to follow. You couldn't help yourself. Not with him.

“It felt as real as it does now, you and me, here,” you said slowly, savoring every word. “I could feel it: the touches, the whispers, the ragged breathing, the sweat, the taste...” His eyes wouldn't leave yours. “When I woke up, I could still feel it. I can be more specific, if you want.”

His scent enveloped you, something raw and visceral that called to you in an almost primal way. It wasn't the smell of perfume, but his, pure and authentic. As if everything about him was an invitation you found hard to refuse.

You noticed how he swallowed saliva, his lips parted for an instant. A lopsided smile appeared on his face, a gesture that made something in your stomach contract. Slowly, he tilted his head toward you, until his lips were inches from yours, and you felt his warm breath caressing you.

“No,” he said in a whisper, his words barely grazing your mouth. “I can picture it perfectly.”

“I know you can.”

A chuckle caught in his throat, and he turned away from you only long enough to shake his head gently, as if he were trying to resist something. But not for long. As soon as he looked at you again, his gaze swept over your face, from your eyes to your mouth, and kept moving down, lingering on every inch of you, as if he was recording every detail in his memory. The slow, deliberate pace of his analysis made your knees go weak. The control you had felt in the conversation vanished in that instant, displaced by the intensity of his gaze, which now completely dominated the situation.

“You must be exhausted,” he finally said, his voice low and steady, eyes meeting yours again. “Go back to bed, sweetheart. It's going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Unconsciously, you ran your tongue over your lips, and nodded, obediently, almost without thinking. Something in his expression showed he was satisfied with your answer.

“Sleep well, Joel,” you murmured, slowly peeling yourself off the kitchen counter, your steps heavier than usual as you walked away.

When you reached the stairs, you almost swore you heard him sigh, a soft echo echoing in the stillness of the night.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Xavier: Library Hideaway | Drabble

This is one of the five drabbles i wrote for Xavier (All SFW). I wrote each drabble in ten minutes for my writing sprints so they're not like my normal quality of writing. However these were a good way for me to warm up with my characterization of Xavier! I'll be posting the other drabbles later (probably will queue them) so look out for those!

Pairing: Xavier x Reader Warning: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

“What are you doing?” Xavier’s voice was so close that you almost jumped. You spun around on the comfortable bean bag chair you had claimed. Xavier was on the one right behind you and the two of you managed to use your backs to help support one another while you read. It had been so quiet and serene that you hadn’t expected to suddenly hear his voice.

“Reading?” You said with an amused chuckle. Obviously you were reading since your nose was deep in a book right now.

Xavier was still facing away but you could see his profile, the gentle smile on his face while he shook his head, “Not…that.” He finally said. He took a moment to look at you, making eye contact, “You keep shifting.”

Oh, you hadn’t even noticed. You were currently reading an action scene in the book, trying to think of all the details as vividly as you could. You guessed during all that imagination you had been moving around a bit. A small flush went up at the realization. You cleared your throat before speaking in a hushed tone.

“I just got to an exciting part in this book, that’s all.” You mustered up and you heard the subtle huff of his laughter. You guys were trying to be quiet at the moment, the library commanded a certain air to it that you were compelled to abide by. That and…

The two of you heard footsteps, someone passing by your secret little reading nook you had found. When you guys discovered this place a month ago you were surprised to have found it. Right behind one of the shelves was a nook area that was covered in dust, as though nobody had cleaned it in years. The two of you made the assumption that perhaps nobody in the library knew about it and took it upon yourselves to clean it.

Now if was your favorite place to be, grabbing drinks and a book then heading over. It was also fun, seeing people pass by the nook and not knowing the two of you were right beyond a shelf. Once the footsteps went away you let out a small breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Xavier finally spoke, “What’s the scene about?” He said, shifting more. It was enough that you began falling backwards, only to feel his hand on your back as he steadied you.

“Just an action scene.” You said then paused for a moment, “Did you…want to read it?” You finally asked. You could see the gentle smile on Xavier’s face as he nodded. You were about to hand the book over when you suddenly felt your center of gravity shifting. You let out a small, surprised noise as he adjusted the two of you.

He placed you on his lap, crossing his legs to create a little space for you. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as he looked over the words on the pace. “Don’t be too loud, unless you want them to find us.” He said and you let out a small groan.

“You could’ve warned me…besides we’re in public and this is inappropriate.” You scolded him, yet despite your words leaned into his chest some more, his natural body heat warming you up.

“Nobody knows about this place.” Xavier’s breath ghosted over your neck before you felt his lips pressing down on the valley between your head and shoulder, “It’s our own little getaway, right?”

You sighed but nodded your head, “Ya, it is. Now if you want to understand this scene we’re gonna have to read the entire book together now.” You pointed it out to him.

“Read it to me?” He asked and you chuckled.

“Can we take turns?” He squeezed gently at your waist after you asked that, then you felt him nod.

“Ya, I think I can manage that.”

One of my buddies really did put Xavier into perspective with a vast majority of the fandom: He's kinda the middle child. I noticed my masterlist only had two NSFW things written for him, so I decided to fix that. I tend to write a lot for Zayne and even Rafayel, but I'm thinking of taking turns of just writing several drabbles of one specific character at a time! Of course as long as I can keep up with it, I don't wanna burn myself out.

Still, with that being said...I do have one NSFW fic for Zayne that I forgot was in my drafts that'll be posted soon, as well as...something angsty for the man. A friend asked me to make him hurt so alas I did.

[himbocoups]

˗ˋˏ Epistolary Yearning ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

synopsis: a series of letters, speckled with notes of budding romance and longing, exchanged between a newly married couple separated by seas and the ongoing war the emperor sent his commander to end.

pairing: duke!lsm x reader (gn afab)

genre: epistolary form, historical fantasy, romance | smut

tags: arranged marriage, mentions of a war, dk and yn accidentally invent the concept of planes, two people very much falling in love | degrading, fingering, guided play, honey play, marking, mirror play, pet names, praise, pussy slapping, riding, spitting, squirting…

wc: 5.13k

message from nu: fueled by my love for historical, fantasy, and isekai manhuas. big thank you to my beta readers (@heartkyeom, @aceofvernons, and @multi-kpop-fanfics) for reading when I was playing with the format of this fic + @junkissed with helping out with the syntax for this one very confusing line I wrote. also summoning @onlyseokmins bc I told her I'd tag her once duke!dk was finished <3

himbocoups's masterlist

Letter One - YN

My Lord, 

How are you? I hope your trip is going as smoothly as planned. 

It has been a while since I last heard from you. As Summer comes to a fading end, Autumn threatens to wash the foliage to hues of brown and auburn. And I sit at the library nook beside the window, taking quill to parchment against the cover of a heavily bound book and scratching against blank pages before I can muster the courage to write to you. I do sincerely apologize if this attempt seems strange. 

Though I pity our brief time together, the only things I familiarized myself with are your scintillant eyes. Maybe instead of feeling as dull as the color of nature, I’ll think about how the color is reminiscent of your eyes. Eyes, these beautiful jewels seem to reflect the light through your smile. I can’t help but imagine myself as the last person to see them every night as I lay beside you as we drift off into slumber. Would it be too forward of me to say that the thought of growing fond of you, not just your eyes, is slowly appealing more and more to me? 

However, I do have hesitations as I am left alone to roam these lonely halls in a place so unfamiliar to me. It would be a pity shall I reach familiarity with my surroundings before I become familiar with you. Or even worse, to have you forget your familiarity with me. 

Please be safe for me. Hurry home soon.

Letter Two - DK

My Jewel,

For someone who longs for familiarity, you need not create even more distance between us through formalities. And my love, you need not refer to me as your Lord. Love is all I ask for, as love is what you will always be to me. Albeit, I do find it disheartening to read that you think of me so lowly. I could never forget someone as precious as you, even if you do not believe in your preciousness. 

Nevertheless, I, too, pity the brevity of our time together. Marriage agreed upon through an exchanging of letters by our guardians, now our marriage follows suit in the epistolary form. Yet no descriptive access through penmanship could ever grant the feeling that blossomed inside me and continues to bloom since I first laid my eyes upon you. And on the eve of the third week of our matrimony, I was whisked away to end the war. I do sincerely apologize for my absence. 

On this rocking ship, all I can do is stare into the swirling sea in search of a passing merchant ship with letters to deliver. The birds that soar above me seem to provoke me with their independence, cawing in hearty guffaw at the fact that this poor man can never take flight at any moment back into his lover’s arms - where he feels most at home.

Maybe we should take giant birds instead of ships, soaring in the skies and reaching our destination in an instant. How wondrous that would be. 

But I am an equally lonesome Commander among his squadron, a man who keeps the first letter from his lover in the pocket against his breast and his wedding band around his neck. Just thinking about how you were thinking about me while writing that letter, still thinking about me, conciliates any disarray in my mind. And I promise you that I will make you feel loved for the rest of your life, even if our love is only budding. 

I will lead my men well. Then I will lead myself home. To you. 

Letter Three - YN

My Dokyeom (If it is fine to refer to you in this way),

I do have to admit to my shyness, how my face flushed with heat when you referred to me as your beloved. Your “love”…my goodness, our servants nearly called the doctor over when they saw my state of awe. Although, I do apologize if the language in my initial letter seemed blunt or made you feel even a hint of sadness that I accidentally made you for a man with a cold demeanor. 

You wrote: “Maybe we should take giant birds instead of ships, soaring in the skies and reaching our destination in an instant” in our last exchange. What a preposterous idea! But what a new discovery to find that you are as funny as you are charming. Shall we commission a local alchemist to create potions that magnify tiny sparrows to large ships? Or shall I ditch my archery lessons in exchange for nights in your magnificent library, scouring the archives with the hope to find a recipe to an enlarging potion hidden in a romance novel? 

Oh, how I wish everything could be as easy as depicted in romance novels or that one Opera we went to watch. Days consume me on end. Not in the way in which I consume much of my leisure time by staying in the places we frequented in our time together, but in the way in which time passes by so slowly it feels like the concept of time is consuming me instead. I wish it were you who were consuming me even though I do feel it through your love. Because I, too, keep your letter near me. And I trace over the areas your quill indented the parchment, so much that I sometimes end up smudging the dried ink with my hand. 

I do miss you...even more when everything around me reminds me of you. Because you, who makes silly promises about a budding romance, will also be the receiver of my elementary promise about my slowly collecting love for you. 

P.S. They are close to finishing our portraits. I have yet to decide where they are to be hung. 

Letter Four - DK

My Love,

My Seokmin. Seok. Min. Mine. Beloved. Love. Dearest. Husband. Equal. Anything but Duke, Lord, Commander, or Dokyeom is welcome. How I wish for the day I get to hear my name leave your lips through a soft murmur, laughter, greeting, whisper, and mayhaps even a whine. 

Honeymoon was cut short by my trip across the sea. We are finally on land. In front of me is a crackling campfire whose glow conceals the redness of my cheeks, dappled with jubilance from reading your last letter. 

My dearest shy and humble lover whose metaphoric propositions of love are anything but reticent, I have annotated my favorite portions and circled words that I replay in my mind as a source of comfort. However, like what you did with your quotation of my imaginary bird ship, I must reference a few nuances in your letter that I find interesting. Particularly, I find that you must be careful in formatting your syntax, my beloved — for your way of language is enough to drive a sane man mad. Just think of me: a sane man before I had you and now a man slowly falling madly in love with you. 

Referring back to how time achingly consumes you, your “I wish it were you who were consuming me. Although I do feel it through your love” causes me to quiver in a way that is only shared between two lovers. I am a man whose honeymoon was interrupted by the king’s call, a man who is weeks without his lover, a man who has needs - desires. And your need for me to consume you? I can only pluck it out of context. 

If everything around you reminds you of me, then I must tell you that I hope your reminder does not make you suffer as how I suffer. My love, do you know how painful it was to lay in my bed while the ship continually rocked back and forth? It was reminiscent of our second week together when you decided to mount me in bed, your beautiful opalescent undergarment covering an action so lewd that it could never be named in public. Yet I was a man on a ship with his aching cock in his hand, imagining his newly beloved on top of him who squeezes him tightly as they ride his lap. 

No hand could ever replace the fervor of having you rock me, leaning forward to kiss me down my naked chest while sucking and licking the thin area of skin right above my collarbone. How warmly your walls enveloped my own, squeezing and contrasting with every glide you make. I couldn’t help but twitch in you, trying to hold in my selfishness by grabbing onto your thighs - kneading and feeling the skin fill the areas between my fingers. But you bounced on my lap like a bunny in heat, causing my hands to trail further upwards until they lay on your ass…I wanted to worship you by turning myself into a throne, a marble stand so others could be in awe of you for centuries to come. 

Mouth unable to talk, your kitten drooled onto my lap and coated the surface with liquid lust while you whimpered as I praised you for treating me so well. I scooped the syrup from the maple tap and brought it to my mouth to suck; even now I can still feel your sweet syrup rest on my tongue and swirl in my mouth. Yet there I was on that boat, losing my mind with my hand on my tap. Bed sheets soaked with my sweat, I could only imagine that it was your sweat-glistened skin that stuck against mine. It was but a shame, and still is but a shame, that the image of you collapsed against my chest with exhaustion when your thighs trembled with such a quake only exists as a memory. How long would it take for me to turn the memory of me looping my arms around your back and pushing your upper body against mine, feeling you build and crash through a scream, into our reality? 

The land is no better than the sea. Truly, it must be treason to think such impure thoughts while riding on my finest stallion to head to our base. I am a Commander, a Duke for God’s sake. But the bouncing, the clopping - oh, beloved, my skin pricked with heat so much that I thought bandits were ambushing us. The pain I felt while I waited for my swelling to go down - I am utterly embarrassed to admit I almost released while riding in front of my men. 

How I wish I could come running back home to you. Shall I single-handedly overturn the monarchy so we can be equal partners to the throne? So that we can be rulers who need not leave our estate? Just give me the word, and the empire will be yours. Then I would never need to leave your side. That I guarantee. 

P.S. Hang the portrait wherever you please. Perhaps the ballroom so I would always be with you during the night of the balls. 

Letter Five - YN

My King,

How mad of you to write such vulgarities, to suggest usurping the throne only if it means being able to stay with me. You are a Commander. You are a Duke. You are one of the King’s men. Do you not fear the inevitable consequences that you would face should your letter be opened by anybody other than myself? Do you not fear what would happen to you if your lust-driven joke was wrongly taken for treason? I must say that despite everything, I found myself dipping a finger into your words and listening to my juices sing your letter like lyrics. 

Your words comforted my ache at my core, skillfully fighting fire with fire to extinguish my burning forest. However, if you were to turn into a mere object – a chair, a throne, a stand – I would never be satisfied in your worship. ‘Tis true that I would like to be worshiped by you like the first time your palm cupped my face in private confinement under the shade of the gazebo in the garden. With nobody around us, your face softened to reveal the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. Earnest eyes flittered to and fro as you studied me in awe and whispered words of praise. Up until then, I never even knew you could worship a person such as me. Yet, you, a mere stranger I met a few hours ago, placed a kiss upon my lips as soft as the petals on the flowers that surrounded us. 

If worshipping me means an inanimate you, I don’t think there would be anybody who could worship me with such sincerity and reason as you do…and I quite like the animate you even if the animate you screamed at the bug upon your sleeve. I couldn’t stop laughing then. And when you looked back at me with those bashful eyes, I knew this would be a marriage filled with laughter.  

Laughter, as I have recently learned, doesn’t only exist jovially. No. Reading your comment about my syntax, I almost erupted in a peal of sinister laughter. My poor lover with his cock in his hand and his quill in his other and his attempt to warn someone with such an extensive educational background about their syntax…you are too pure for this world. Should it make you feel better in any way, I have also thought about you in ways such a person in my stature should never. 

The other day when I was particularly distracted by the particular “unease” that had been building inside me, I accidentally launched a practice arrow into the wind. Chasing it, I happened upon our agriculture stables where the young workers sit and milk our cows. I swear, I must have been in such a delusional state to feel such a rush just from watching the motion of our cows getting milked that I ran off to the kitchens without picking up my stray arrow. 

Can you believe it, my dear? Have you been thinking of me differently since I admitted to almost leaking when I saw the cows getting milked? Would you think of me even differently if I told you I thought of you while talking to our ice sculptors? If you can quench my thirst on my loneliest days, I can only imagine what taking you in paired with ice would feel like for both you and me. 

Mayhaps, we should convene in the kitchen at night after the bell strikes twelve when all of our kitchen staff have retired. I want to kiss you with cherry-stained lips, watching tint transfer onto yours as I play with the seed of the fruit in my mouth while I wait for our cups of tea to steep. Kissing, I hope, would act as an analgesic for your painfully sleepless nights. Still, I find it abstruse that a kind, gentle, and good man like you would live such a cathartic life as a commander. Enerverated in every way as I am, I can only offer a somnolent kiss in hopes of luring you to sleep before your tea can fully steep. 

“What is a man without his honey,” you would say. Then I would ask you to specify what type of honey you are referring to. 

You would reply with this cheekiness in your voice while your lips pull into a wide smile, “the syrup.” If I’m not wrong, you would peck the top of my head while you reach over me to grab the jar that the cook keeps at the counter for you to easily access. Because the man with a honeyed siren voice that often procures lullabies for me to fall asleep also has a taste for the pollinators’ syrup. 

As you can tell…we are not simple people. We are not a regular couple. We have exchanged letters for longer than we have physically been together. So when I tell you to close your eyes to try to find your honey, would you? If I blindfolded you with a kitchen towel and told you to search for the dab of honey I swatched on my body, could you do it? Would you go to the lengths just to search for the honey to your tea?

Would you use your nose and sniff along my skin, searching for the floral and fruity aroma? Gently picking up my arm and bringing it to your nose, would you gently guide your nose along the surface of my skin in a position so intimate that you feel my arm hairs tickle the tip of your nose? Would you guide your nose upwards along my arm until you arrive at my collarbone, sniffing and docilely licking areas you think to be as sweet as honey? 

Imploring you in your reconnoiter, I must keep quiet as I watch you blindly explore every groove of the topography of my body. I imagine myself tilting my head towards the side to allow you access to the side of my neck, sharply breathing in as you nose the area in which I am the most sensitive. I see you hesitate for a second before planting your supple lips against the skin as if to sample before making a decision. To your surprise, what coats your lips in a sticky and sweet amber gloss is the honey I placed on my neck slowly trailing towards my collarbone. And I watch you intently as you lick it off your lips, leaving a translucent liquid sheen. 

Affected by a magnetic lure, you would somehow find yourself in front of me, your head positioned right above the slowly trailing bead of honey. It starts with a lick, hot tongue against cold skin. I can’t help but feel how the bumpy texture of your tongue cleans and pulls its way up my neck. After the hot saliva hits cold air, you take off the kitchen towel and look at me like a puppy waiting for its owner. 

“Such a good boy,” I murmur as I take the towel from your hand and wrap it around the nape of your neck to pull you in closer. “How does it taste?” 

What is more, is that I hope that in that moment my heart is not the only one that is beating as fast as how a hummingbird flaps its wings. My greedy husband, you back me against the kitchen island until you are pressed firmly against me as I watch and feel you bite and suck a garden of flowers across my neck and chest. Your large hands find themselves around my thighs, kneading and squeezing them so much that the fabric of my night clothes bunch in the palm of your hands. So I maneuver your hands around my waist, and you spin me around and bend me against that counter so I can feel you push yourself against me. 

“Be good for me,” you would command while undressing me. 

Then I would feel it, hands spreading my legs and fingers prying my ass apart, and then your warm and flat tongue against my kitten. One single lick would make my knees buckle. But you eating me out from behind, the way you knead my ass while you take your time swirling your tongue against my lips and lapping up my juices would make me come in an instant. Your tongue presses against my nub while your nose digs itself into my opening almost to the point where you’re fucking me with the tip of your nose, yet it is me who begs for air. And you keep my liquid on your tongue as you rise from your knees to pull my head back until I’m looking at you and your swollen and burgundy lips with my head tilted backward. 

And you pry my mouth open with your hand and watch me catch that sweet honey on the tip of my tongue. 

My dear, I am much too hot to even think about what comes after you let go of my jaw. My tenses in this letter are all mixed up because I’m so caught up in my delusions that I mistake dreams for reality. I feel ashamed to revert to such elementary composition when I am clouded by lust. But in this sensory game of wits, who do you think would win — the explorer or the explored? 

P.S. I’ve had our painting temporarily hung in our dining room as I cannot even bring myself to think about the possibility of hosting a ball without you. The great ballroom has been collecting dust since the first month you left for the war. Besides, invitations to the first ball of the season have long been sent out. I attended and made some acquaintances. Are you proud of me? Are you missing me as much as I am missing you?

Letter Six - DK

My Sweet,

Loneliness is when you are trapped by your stillness while everything around you splits into two and crumbles. And you are stuck in the open space of where everything once was, you in your bubble of muteness as the world crashes and breaks in a cacophonous roar. The feeling that engulfed me during these past few months was beyond my description of loneliness. So with a happy heart, I am telling you that the war is over. I’m coming home soon to hold you in my arms, to show you what this world that surrounds you is truly like — delicate and with the warmth of a glowing morning Sun that promises juvenescent Springs until the end of time. 

Regarding your question about the potential winner of the sensory game you described in your last letter, whether I am the person exploring or explored, I know I would always be the victor as only a true victor can call you “his.” My sweet love, I hope to stick by your side as long as I prefer honey in my tea and you by my side when I sleep. 

However, with a slightly interruptive transition, I have a few requests regarding the contents of your postscript. That is:

One, I am wholly and with every fiber of my mind, soul, and body proud of you. You, my shyest lover who sought friendship in your moments of loneliness, I love you so. Yet I find myself utterly in distress that I cannot co-host our tea parties until later should you hold one in a few days. Our estate is boring, and it must be tiring seeing the same things and people every day for the past few months. I urge you to go out more and explore so I can come home to plentiful stories told in your voice. I want to fall asleep to your descriptions so I can dream of how you see the world around you. 

Two, of course, I am missing you. Even if I were a few yards away from you, I would still miss you. I am currently bothering our treasurer in regards to spending the rest of our budget on a winter wonderland in which we would freeze the entire world so I could easily and quickly sled back home like a seal off an iceberg. However, our treasurer is insistent on saving the budget for lodging, travel, and sustenance. I, for one, think I am right.

Three, I think this might be my last letter in a while as when this stack of parchments finally reaches you, I would almost be home. So I am struggling between keeping this short and straight to the point or long and thoroughly eloquent with everything that I want to write and say to you. Instead of coming to a conclusion by myself, I bid you farewell until we meet again with this set of instructions within my set of requests for you. I’m sorry if the format of my letter makes it very hard for you to read. Like how you described your delusions, I often find myself alone at night imagining you by my side so much that I feel your physical presence next to me. 

Four, as for our portrait in our dining room, I must ask you to perform a favor for me as I have not seen the finished painting myself. It is a test regarding the “likeness” of our portraits that can only be performed by yourself. When you wish to perform the test before I arrive, please excuse all our staff who stay by your side during dinner and ask to eat alone. Should they give you looks, please say that it was requested by me. 

When you are alone, I need you to get into a position in which you can look at yourself through the large mirror that is mounted above the low mantle towards the end of the dining room table. I assume our portrait is hung on the wall at the other side of the dining room table, am I right? If you move the plates and sit on the table, you should be able to look at both your entire body and our portrait through the mirror. Do not worry about making a mess my dear. 

Perhaps this test may be a little lewd for a dinner setting. But after your proposed rendezvous in the kitchen in your last letter, I suppose this test would be nothing to you. 

Look at yourself in the mirror. Can you imagine me behind you, slowly kissing down your neck as I undress you while the candlelights flicker beside us? Our shadows cast against the walls that surround us tell the story of two lovers slowly conjoining into one. And I sit you against the front of my naked body, bending your legs and positioning them so you can see all of you through the mirror.

My love, can you see your lips unfold into a beautiful bloom, leaking with its sweet nectar for your man to taste? The sweet nectar, the glistening substitute to the honey our staff brought alongside our dinner rolls, rolls off the flower and soaks the tablecloth beneath you. Tonight I am not doing anything except revel in your beauty like a man awestruck by something so exquisite that he cannot do anything but stare. 

I want you to imagine that the same me in the portrait is the me you imagine to be behind you, the very me who writes this letter and instructs you on how to pleasure yourself for the night. Suck on your own fingers, my darling. Bring your fingers to your lips, and let me see the way you ready yourself before the pleasure comes. Because what I want is for you to fuck yourself well for me so that after you’ve squirted all over the dining table your pussy continues to throb so much that you confuse it for your beating heart. 

Don’t be shy. Bring your soaked fingers to your folds, and trace along the lines of the petals. Look at how they seemingly open and close as your stomach jerks in reaction. Slowly rub yourself up and down, coaxing that beautiful sigh that I know too well out of your mouth. Feel the pads of your finger mix with your juices, slipping easily and making your hand glide smoother. 

Are you looking at me through the mirror? Are you begging me to instruct you in other ways to satisfy your lust? Do you want to rub your pearl and flick it with your finger in a way that makes you clench and collapse? 

What is it, honey? Are you whining for me to make you feel good? But this is your guided session. Don’t you see yourself through the mirror, so pathetic looking that you would do anything that I tell you to do? Then take that same hand you used to tease yourself and slap your pussy for me. Bring the hand back and bring it down on your pussy quickly and with so much might that the sound of palm against tender skin echoes throughout the empty dining room. 

Don’t you feel pathetic? Getting off from you slapping your own pussy? Doesn’t it please you and make feel so dirty at the same time? When you’re striking your palm against your pussy over and over as your other hand unconsciously reaches upwards to knead your sore nipple, are you looking at yourself through the mirror? Are you still imagining me sitting behind you on our dining table, whispering and taunting you as you attempt to come undone? If your head is not completely clouded with lust, when that pussy is throbbing with such pain and pleasure, you will take your finger to your entrance and insert it slowly so you feel your warm and wet insides slowly swallow your finger the further in it goes. 

Let your mouth hang open as you plug yourself with another finger. Fill the lonely dining room with your sweet moans for me. Listen to your kitten squelch and leak the more you pump yourself so that a warm and hot feeling grows in your stomach, making you clench your body tighter and tighter. Scissor your fingers, and fill up that empty space where my cock usually rests. When you release, pull out your fingers as you come on the tablecloth and look at the cream I miss the most. 

You’re so perfect, you know that? You’d look even more perfect when you’re on your knees with your fingers underneath you and inside of you. Bounce for me my sweet, ride your own fingers as if you’re riding me. Massage yourself with your other hand, grabbing and kneading your breasts and your nipples as I do for you. Can you see yourself through the mirror more clearly when you’re in this position? Do you see how messy and needy you look while you’re pathetically riding your own fingers? Do you wish they were mine? Do you wish they were my thighs? 

Open your eyes for me as you reach another wave of ecstasy. Look at me in the eyes, the man painted next to your glowing figure as you reach your last high. I know you can do it. Scream my name if you love me, and squirt as if your pussy was crying for the man you love. 

Turn your head around when you’ve caught your breath. Look at our portrait. Do you see how I’m smiling at you? 

I’m proud of you, my love. Thank you for holding on for so long. I’ll be home soon. 

P.S. I love you.

Copyright © 2023 Himbocoups. All rights reserved.

[kentosbabes]

Can you pls make some headcanons of college bf Nanami

OFC!!

Collage boyfriend Nanami;

Nanami always waits outside your class to surprise you with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek before you guys head off to grab lunch together.

On your study nights, Nanami prepares a cosy study corner with dimmed lights, snacks, and a playlist of calming music to help you concentrate.

You both have a favorite spot in the library where you often study together, stealing glances and sharing secret smiles amidst the stacks of books.

Nanami leaves cute and encouraging sticky notes in your textbooks or laptop bag to brighten your day during stressful exam periods.

Whenever you are feeling overwhelmed, Nanami surprises you with impromptu coffee dates, taking you to a local café where you can unwind and enjoy his company.

Nanami loves to cook for you, especially when you are too busy to prepare a meal. He surprises you with homemade dinners, showing his love through the food he creates or the pastries he bakes for you.

Nanami and you have a standing Friday night tradition of movie marathons in his dorm room. You snuggle up together, surrounded by blankets and pillows, and watch your favourite horror flick.

Nanami leaves little love letters hidden in your backpack or under your pillow, expressing his affection and reminding you how much you mean to him.

Nanami is your biggest supporter in all your extracurricular activities, cheering you on from the sidelines and capturing candid photos of you in action, he scrapbooks them and gifts them to you as a surprise for your birthday.

Whenever Nanami and you have a free weekend, you embark on spontaneous day trips to nearby towns or parks, exploring new places and creating unforgettable memories together.

Nanami surprises you with little care packages during midterms and finals week, filled with your favourite snacks, motivational quotes, and small tokens of encouragement, like printed silly selfies of you both hanging out.

Nanami is always there to lend a listening ear when you need to vent about your shit professors, assignments, or any challenges you face. He provides a safe space for you to express yourself.

Nanami takes you on mini adventures around campus, like late-night stargazing on campus or exploring hidden nooks and crannies of the uni grounds.

Nanami attends your performances or presentations, it doesn’t matter what it is, it could be a dance recital, a poetry reading, or a research symposium, showing his unwavering support and pride in your accomplishments.

Nanami surprises you with handwritten love letters, each one expressing his deepest feelings and appreciation for you. You secretly keep a collection of them, treasuring every word. They are hidden in a shoebox under your dorm bed.

Nanami is the designated photographer in your relationship, capturing candid and loving moments that you can look back on and smile about for years to come.

Nanami remembers important dates and anniversaries, surprising you with thoughtful gifts or planning special outings to celebrate your milestones together.

Nanami respects your need for personal space and alone time, understanding that college can be overwhelming. He gives you the freedom to recharge and supports your self-care routines.

Nanami has a blurry and kinda unflattering picture of you as his background on his phone and smiles a little when he sees it.

Masterlist

[shall-we-die]

Hello, I have an ask with the obey me dateables, and Luke (platonic) if you write for him ofc, with a fem! Mc who reads ALOT and constantly talks about them, I'm talking about shelves upon shelves of books that have been read.

Have a amazing day and remember to talk care of yourself!

╔‌‌‌‌═══════════════•⊰•°༄༚

{Loving a

talkative sheep}

☰[Main list]•⊰ Obey me!

↬[A/N]•⊰ Thank you so much for requesting dear anonymous 💕

But sorry, I don't write for Luke.

╚═══════════════•⊰•°༄༚‌‌‌

Diavolo always listens intently to MC talking about books with his chin resting in his hand and a smile on his face.

"You have a gift for finding the most interesting stories," he'd say, his eyes gleaming with warmth and affection.

"And the way you weave them into our conversations is nothing short of magical. I could listen to you talk about books for hours on end and never grow tired of it."

He'd lean in a bit closer, his hand nearly brushing yours. "Please, continue. I'm all ears."

As the conversation continued, Diavolo's interest deepened. He would ask thoughtful questions about the characters, their motivations, and even the symbolism behind certain scenes.

His laughter would ring out whenever you made a witty comment, and he would sometimes share his own insights about the books you were discussing.

He would even occasionally recommend some of his favorites for you to read, each recommendation accompanied by a warm smile and a subtle touch on your shoulder.

You could almost feel the warmth of his presence, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

Barbatos would listen intently as MC enthusiastically discusses their books, showing genuine interest in the stories, themes, and characters.

Barbatos would admire MC's passion for reading, finding their excitement contagious.

He would use his knowledge of the past and future to offer additional insights or historical context to the stories MC shares, sparking further discussion and appreciation for the books.

Barbatos could find creative ways to incorporate moments from books into special surprises or gifts for MC.

Barbatos would regularly surprise MC with a new book that aligns with their preferences, demonstrating his understanding of their reading tastes.

Barbatos might even playfully challenge MC to engage in intellectual debates about books, fostering an atmosphere of intellectual stimulation.

Barbatos would create a cozy reading nook filled with plush pillows and cozy blankets for MC to enjoy their books, ensuring a comfortable and relaxing environment for their bookworm moments.

Simeon would listen carefully and patiently as MC passionately discusses their beloved books, finding joy in their enthusiasm and the depth of their insights.

He would actively engage in conversations about literature, sharing his own thoughts and recommendations, creating a mutual exchange of ideas and perspectives on the world of books.

Simeon would be happy to accompany MC at the local library or bookstore, exploring new titles and discussing their favorite characters and plots.

He might even surprise MC with a thoughtful gift of a rare or special book she has been longing for.

Simeon might even surprise MC with a personalized bookmark or a handcrafted journal to jot down their reading notes and reflections.

During quiet evenings at home, they would curl up together to read aloud, taking turns in different voices while enjoying the simplicity of shared stories.

Simeon could encourage MC to write their own book, serving as their trusted confidante and supporter throughout the creative process. He'd offer insightful feedback, helping them shape their story into something truly special.

Solomon would be thrilled to engage in deep conversations with them. He would love to hear about their thoughts on the stories and characters, and  would share his own insights on them. They would discuss themes, symbolism and even have debates on different interpretations. It would be wonderful to have someone who shares the same passion for the written word and he would love to hear their opinions on the books they had read. would also be very interested in discussing the author's writing style and background, as well as the historical or cultural context in which the books were written. They can geek out together and talk for hours on end about the stories, characters and worlds that they have come to know and love.

[theantichristpluviophile]

With reproductive and marriage rights for both homosexuals and osa women going out the window, we need to take our activitism to the real world, and put if fucking everywhere

We need to go to every onlind study on women, on the all the possible side affects of pregnancy, every piece of feminist literature, and download them and print them and archive them physically because online censorship will become a thing. We need to print and write down every possible methods of at home abortions and save it. We need to print these out and tape them fucking everywhere, slip them into library books and fold them into paper airplanes and slip them into every nook and crany we can. We need to carry sharpies and spray paint and write on every bathroom stall, hotel wall, every bus seat and anywhere else we can and share everything we can. We need to remind women that even if they can't divorce, they can still run and hide from the husbands by seeking out other women who will hide them. We need to by and stockpile plan b and condoms and pregnancy test and any over the counter abortion pills we can and have them ready to share. We need to creat physical emergency cash stashes and not trust banks. We need need to encourage every fucking women to not get married, to no date, and not have any sex that can result in pregnancy. We need every women who can, regardless of their personal feelings on guns, to just get at least one as protection because if we begin to withhold sex, men will begin to try and take it by force. Men will beat and rape us if they know we're rebelling against their control. We need to teach other women how to secretly tract their periods offline and have every pregnancy symptom listed for memorization. We need to go and fucking vandalize and destroy the churches that have been encouraging this fucking bullshit. We need bots to spam any and everywhere with reproductive information, pregnancy and rape and DV statistics, bots that spam advice on how to recognize, avoid, disengage, and escape abusive men. We need to be fucking loud and everywhere, online and in real life. We need to go to every lesbian and gay bar/homosexual spaces in general, collect contact information and network, and start figuring out underground meet ups. We need to start networking with women in general and passing on information. Every private wall should have something written or taped too it that may help even one person. Herbs and anything growable in general that can induce aborts should be stockpiled and grown if possible. Every church, every corporate building, every police station and government building should be spray painted and vandalized to make a fucking point. We didn't get our rights by peacefully protesting, we had to pry them from the hands of men with violence, and now that they are trying to claw them back, we need to be violent once more

We need to remind men that women won't take their oppression quietly, and we need to remind our sisters we don't have to be quite

EVERY WOMAN PLEASE READ THIS‼️

Gilead is becoming a reality.

Im furious, I’m so enraged, I’m fucking heart broken for all the women who woke up to find their rights are being stripped away. I love you all.

We need radical action. We need to be loud. We need to be aggressive. We need to show the world how angry we are. We need to be revolutionary. We need solidarity.

We’re starting a revolution.

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: Dramione Month (Part 7)

Dramione Month 2024:

The night study by Hyemi_28 - E, one-shot - Hermione and Draco are learning in a secret nook of the library at night when the Hogwarts History book become useful…

Veritaserum Confessions by anna_hawk - G, one-shot - At a raucous DMLE celebration, Draco Malfoy accidentally drinks Veritaserum and seeks refuge in his office to escape the impending embarrassment. But when Hermione Granger finds him, he’s cornered and compelled to answer her playful questions. Amidst her teasing, Draco spills his biggest secret: his Patronus memory is tied to Hermione. As emotions run high, Hermione’s unexpected confession and a heated kiss turn their playful banter into a heartfelt revelation.

Who's Afraid of Little Miss Granger by TheMaryScribbler - E, WIP - Voldemort was defeated in the Wizarding War of 1805, but two years later Wizarding Society is still struggling to recover. A record number of Wizengamot seats are empty, no one is marrying, and few births have been recorded. Laws restricting a witch's rights begin pouring in and in response Miss Hermione Granger threatens the Minister of Magic in public. After Hermione's outburst the only wizard that will even approach her at a ball is none other than Lord Draco Malfoy, newly released from house arrest. Is it worth marrying a pretentious Lord in order to regain some of her rights as a married witch?

Call It Research by AsIfYouCouldOutReadMe - E, WIP - Hermione Granger is riding a career high: her biography on Voldemort was a smash hit, her agent Blaise Zabini has just negotiated a lucrative new contract with her publisher, and her follow-up work on the writing of Hogwarts: A History already has buzz. She is happy… happyish… content… fine. Definitely not interested in reconnecting with her former childhood bully, even if he possesses a first edition she’d kill to get her hands on. But their explosive reunion poses more questions than answers and Hermione finds herself curious about more than the contents of a book. OR Hermione and Draco reunite to heal, write a book, fall in love, and solve a cold case.

Hanging Tree by Hyemi_28 - M, one-shot - Voldemort rules the Wizarding World. He created districts for the remained wizards... There are the Purebloods, Half-bloods, Blood traitors, Squibs and the Mudbloods... They organise a game at every May 2th to remember his victory... Six years later Hermione volunteer willingly as a tribute and she has to survive the game and one of the best professional pureblood participant, Draco Malfoy. [WARNING: Character Death]

Books & Bullying by galaxy_skies - T, one-shot - Hermione had left the book – muggle and uninteresting – behind when she’d left the library, half in tears over Draco’s constant sniping commentary whilst they'd written their essays. He’d pocketed it as a matter of course – to hex it or throw at her head, whichever was more enjoyable in the imagined future moment – but when Quidditch practice got cancelled and Theo and Blaise were busy with their own last-minute essays, he’d found himself bored enough to read it. Draco sprawled out over one of the sofas, stomach down and his chin in his hand.

The Deconstruction and Ruination of a Would-Be Gentleman by totomoo - E, WIP - For all the privileges a gentlewoman has come to afford in the last two centuries, it has become a universal and acknowledged truth that a woman in possession of sense, sensibility, and her own good fortune is not in need of a husband.

The Tenuous Threads of Friendship and Desire by Tippilo - E, one-shot - “My dates never worked because they weren't you, Hermione! None of them can even compare! And as much as I love fighting with you, I’m sick of fighting this!” Or: Hermione is in love with her best friend, and they decide to stop being idiots.

Fake Dating by Brittles_06 - M, one-shot - Christmas season is in full swing and what better way to keep people away from confessing their feelings than dating your best friend's boyfriend's best friend?

12 Fail- Safe Ways to Woo a Witch by Hyemi_28 - M, one-shot - Draco tries to use the 12 Fail-safe Ways to Woo a Witch book's advices, but it seems nothing can help him to earn Hermione Granger's love... 😅❤

Hold You Through the Night by galaxy_skies - T, one-shot - It was supposed to be a quiet night. A date night – the kind they hadn’t made time for in so long, not when Lyra was anxious about leaving for Hogwarts and Scorpius cried at every mention of Lyra being gone. And Cassie was so little that Hermione (and Draco) hadn’t wanted to leave her alone. But Pansy – of all people – had insisted. Had gotten them tickets for “some muggle show” that turned out to be a movie, and she’d practically shoved them out of their own house and into the crisp night air while Cassie screamed with giddy excitement at seeing her Aunt Pans.

12 Fail-Safe Ways To Woo A Witch by Peaches_on_Waffles - M, one-shot - Hermione buys a book, so Draco does the same.

Downfall by Diffindo by dramionelover1997 - E, one-shot - "Everyone I know and love are dead. Voldemort won the second Wizarding War and the Ministry and the Order have been decimated. I was reaped for the first annual Hunger Games, along with twenty-seven others. There are twenty-eight tributes in total, in honour of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families."

Fake Dating by Peaches_on_Waffles - T, one-shot - Molly Weasley doesn't want any of her children to be alone.

Secret Child/Baby by Peaches_on_Waffles - G, one-shot - Hermione and Draco want to revel in their pregnancy alone before sharing it with their friends and families.

Legilimens by Peaches_on_Waffles - E, one-shot - Hermione and Draco have to pass a test during Auror training.

ROOMSTERS by Lexxus - not rated, one-shot - Uni students Draco and Hermione find their ways into each other's hearts through texts, a mutual love for books, and with absolutely no help from their roommates.

The Sweetest Curse by galaxy_skies - T, one-shot - Hermione doesn’t realise until she’s already sat down and pulled out her parchment and quills that she’s forgotten her copy of Advanced Rune Translation. She hunches her shoulders as she digs futilely through her bookbag only to come up empty-handed. It’s only the second day of term and she’s already going to fall behind. She remembers reading it on the train and then – nothing. She must have left it – idiot – and she wants to sink into her seat as Professor Babbling calls the class to attention. With a furtive glance, Hermione looks to her left. Of all people – it’s Malfoy­ sat beside her – his chin propped in his hand and a faraway look in his eyes. He blinks as Hermione carefully shifts closer, dragging her parchment with her.

Her secret garden by Hyemi_28 - M, one-shot - Seven months after the war, Hermione puts on her warm coat and goes in the snowing to her daily walk into her secret garden... where she can meet her love of her life... [WARNING: Character Death]

Not Just A Game by Lexxus - not rated, one-shot - During a game of Truth or Dare in the eighth-year common room, Draco and Hermione have to spend Seven Minutes in Heaven in an enchanted cabinet, where their casual tryst quickly demands serious declarations of romantic intent.

[woman-respecter]

With reproductive and marriage rights for both homosexuals and osa women going out the window, we need to take our activitism to the real world, and put if fucking everywhere

We need to go to every onlind study on women, on the all the possible side affects of pregnancy, every piece of feminist literature, and download them and print them and archive them physically because online censorship will become a thing. We need to print and write down every possible methods of at home abortions and save it. We need to print these out and tape them fucking everywhere, slip them into library books and fold them into paper airplanes and slip them into every nook and crany we can. We need to carry sharpies and spray paint and write on every bathroom stall, hotel wall, every bus seat and anywhere else we can and share everything we can. We need to remind women that even if they can't divorce, they can still run and hide from the husbands by seeking out other women who will hide them. We need to by and stockpile plan b and condoms and pregnancy test and any over the counter abortion pills we can and have them ready to share. We need to creat physical emergency cash stashes and not trust banks. We need need to encourage every fucking women to not get married, to no date, and not have any sex that can result in pregnancy. We need every women who can, regardless of their personal feelings on guns, to just get at least one as protection because if we begin to withhold sex, men will begin to try and take it by force. Men will beat and rape us if they know we're rebelling against their control. We need to teach other women how to secretly tract their periods offline and have every pregnancy symptom listed for memorization. We need to go and fucking vandalize and destroy the churches that have been encouraging this fucking bullshit. We need bots to spam any and everywhere with reproductive information, pregnancy and rape and DV statistics, bots that spam advice on how to recognize, avoid, disengage, and escape abusive men. We need to be fucking loud and everywhere, online and in real life. We need to go to every lesbian and gay bar/homosexual spaces in general, collect contact information and network, and start figuring out underground meet ups. We need to start networking with women in general and passing on information. Every private wall should have something written or taped too it that may help even one person. Herbs and anything growable in general that can induce aborts should be stockpiled and grown if possible. Every church, every corporate building, every police station and government building should be spray painted and vandalized to make a fucking point. We didn't get our rights by peacefully protesting, we had to pry them from the hands of men with violence, and now that they are trying to claw them back, we need to be violent once more

We need to remind men that women won't take their oppression quietly, and we need to remind our sisters we don't have to be quite

!!!! all of this!!!!