#girls who watched it happen so nOT just me) anyways now she uses that as an excuse for treating me like fucking trash because she finally

[imsofreakingtired]

HI. sorry for dropping this bomb on you all right after what i said about being less active in the future BuT. i'm deleting this old fic of mine from ao3 because i'm just not interested in it anymore... but i'm kinda proud of the first chapter so i revised it to be an x reader (it was originally sevika x oc) and i'm gonna just drop it here. pls don't come at me i'm so sorry guys 🙏

"i can hear the sound of a heartbeat (before it goes out)"

content warning(s)!! graphic descriptions of injury, mentions of surgical procedure, heavy angst, hurt/comfort(?)

summary: you are the brilliant young apprentice of the undercity apothecary. after Powder's explosion, Sevika is brought into your care. notes: i wrote this like a month ago? soon after watching arcane for the first time and i started hyperfixating on who the hell performed sevika's amputation if singed was also caught in the explosion and what the process of recovery must have been like for her and oh...my baby 😞 kind of a character study more than anything. disclaimer: i'm not a doctor or even a med student. apologies for any and all inaccuracies wc: 4.7k

~~~~

What she remembered: 

A blue flash. No; she recalled earlier than that. There was the acrid smell of something foreign and metallic. Something strangely human, even though she knew there was nothing human that night. Not the desperate rage in Vi’s eyes. Not the monster she was ousted by to fight in her stead. Not the pink rivers in expanding skin. Not the smoke rising lazily from the forges. Not the gleam of Silco’s glass eye, not the muscles seizing in her arms. 

There was the smell; there was the impossible, cartoonish noise. Wood splintering and bodies hitting a distant floor. And then all thought gathered into one concentrated bundle of instinct, in which nothing existed, nothing in the past, present, or future—nothing mattered except leaping in the way of the blast, which Silco was standing directly in front of. 

She didn’t know if he made it out of the explosion, or if he took the fall anyway. For one glorious, enormous second, her eyes were dazzled by a light so pure it felt like looking into the face of love itself. The light, blue and benign, innocent in its enormity, seared her vision and sizzled into every nerve of her brain. She was aware of a pain so distant it seemed to be happening to someone else far away from her. She was making a beautiful arc in space. She was saving a cause, she was somebody else. She was making the greatest sacrifice. She was everything that existed, from her first infant cry to this senseless blue light. And now the arc was falling. Clockwork stopping. A choking sound in the back of a scorched throat, a name dropped in the void. She was forgotten. She never mattered at all. 

And then she hit the ground, and remembered nothing more. 

~~~

“Is she alive?”

“She’s breathing, sir.” 

“Bring her, then. See if we can save her. She’s valuable to us. Singed will handle her.” 

“Sir, we found Singed in his lab. He’s not moving. Must’ve been caught in the explosion.” 

“Shit.” 

(Pause.) 

“Just pick her up, Locke.” 

(Fire. Unbearable heat everywhere. Sour smell of sweat and bitter tang of blood. And the sweet, simmering, ever-pervasive stench of Shimmer.) 

(Then, a child’s weeping.) 

“Hello, little girl.” 

(Rain on skin. Rain, the drops feeling like acid. Makes the smell of everything worse.)

“Where is your sister?” 

“She left me.” (Weeping.) “She is not my sister anymore.” 

(The sounds leave. The welcome smoke of sleep curls into her brain. Her eyes close. She thinks her body is in fragments, and no one can see or touch her anymore. Before everything goes blissfully dark, she sees the Shimmer-veined mass that was and was not Vander. Is he really gone? Is she really here? Perhaps…perhaps that was not what happened at all. Perhaps they were both dead. Perhaps they would be walking side by side again soon, the way they did before everything went bad, when they were only kids, with him making jabs at her habit of drifting from one woman to another, and her countering by asking about the shifting thing he had going on with a gentle, intelligent Silco both had long stopped knowing.) 

~~~

You were in the back room, mixing powders. Behind you hung a wall of carefully collected and sterilized surgical tools. The Apothecary disapproved of such tools. She had a firm belief in the old remedies, that anything short of death could be cured with a good potion and a drop or two of strong liquor. As her assistant, you could only defer to her opinions and gather the few good weeds you could find at the riverbank, make trips to Topside for the more expensive ingredients if there was a dire need. The people on the other side of the river had found out a substance with a numbing ability. They were performing amputations, open-heart operations. You felt like you were trying to breathe underwater every time you heard of such achievements. The people of the undercity were dying by the hundreds from inadequate medical means, their only hopes of surviving the pestilence in their lungs or infected flesh wounds some sham apothecary who gave them a snake oil potion and then drank away her earnings. 

So you slipped away when you could. Under the pretense of gathering roots to grind into powder, you made your way across the bridge and hung around the medicine stores of Piltover. You eavesdropped on the conversations of medical scholars. You stole books from the libraries of reputable doctors and alchemists. You devoured information on the inner workings of the body, its fragility and beautiful net of nerves and cells. By degrees, you came to know everything there was to know about operating on a human body. You knew the procedures of a liver transplant in your sleep. You knew the exact place to tie a tourniquet to stem the flow of blood. 

The bell chimed. Not a lick of wind had made them ring as urgently as they did now—the Apothecary’s reputation had soured as word about the uselessness of her potions went around the Lanes. 

You looked up from your work, listening for the Apothecary’s steps but knowing damn well she wasn’t going to answer the call. More likely than not she was sleeping off the effects of last night’s drink. The bell chimed again, louder. 

Sighing, you went to the door yourself. You slid open the window and found yourself staring into the enormous, pierced, tattooed face of a man you recognized to be Locke, a formidable henchman of Silco’s. 

“We don’t want your Shimmer samples,” you snapped. “Go find another test bunny.” 

That was when he stepped back, and you saw the unconscious woman in his arms. 

“She ain’t got much time,” Locke said. “An’ for shit’s sake, she’s no bag of feathers.” 

Even in the sparse light, you could see the woman was an inch away from death. Beneath the soot her tone was ashen. You could smell the charred skin from where you were standing. 

Without another word, you swung open the door and led him into the shop. 

There was nowhere to lay the woman. You spotted the table you had been working on, and swept everything off it to the floor with a deafening clatter of metal bowls and spilled dried roots. You pointed to the table. Locke laid the woman down, then stood uncertainly. 

“Out,” you ordered him. “Come back when I send word.” 

Not bothering to hide his relief, he disappeared. You then turned to the task at hand. 

You adjusted the overhead lamp, turned it on so that the light fell brilliantly on your first ever patient. 

You were not a person to turn sick easily. From a young age the things that made other kids squeamish fascinated you, enchanted you. You spent hours picking apart dead animals you found in the streets, taking as much delight in observing the small ragged caves of their rib cages, the limp softness of their organs, as other kids did in playing with toys and dolls.  

But when you saw the woman you felt a small failing in your heart, a drop in your pulse. 

It was the kind of burn you had only ever read about. Every inch of skin on the woman’s left arm was scorched to the bone. You could see without touching her that you could slide a knife into the flesh without the woman ever feeling it: every nerve was burned away. The left side of her face wasn’t in much better condition. You could only guess at what might have caused such a great burn as this—maybe the woman had been in a fire, or an explosion. 

You closed her eyes, opened them again. Took a breath. Then the nausea passed, and left only a grim excitement. You went to the door and locked it. Then you went back to the table, with renewed resolve, to better examine the woman. 

The arm would have to come off, that was certain. It was beyond saving. If she had been taken somewhere sooner—right after sustaining the burns—the arm might have been saved. But by now the flesh was eaten raw. You took a pair of shears and carefully cut the woman’s clothing away from her skin. The fabric clung to burned flesh, ripped it away, despite your caution. The woman stirred slightly but did not wake. For the first time you looked at her face. 

She was handsome, with a strong jaw and dark brows. She couldn’t have been more than thirty-five. She was so tall that her boots hung over the edge of the long table.

You forced your gaze away. There was no time to lose, and you had to be meticulously careful. This was your first real operation.

You went to the cupboard and took a dose of caffeine. It steeled you, cleared your brain. You filled a syringe with the anesthetic you had swiped from the alchemist in Piltover and wiped the woman’s good arm with antiseptic before injecting it into her strong, raised vein. 

Janna in Heaven, the woman was built like a god. 

You were made to think rationally, scientifically. You knew the arm would have to come off, the damaged tissue rendered it useless. But it was almost tragic to think that such a substantial part of the woman would be lost, an arm that once mirrored the perfect art of its surviving counterpart, with the veins and scars and ropes of muscle telling of astounding strength. 

You waited until the woman’s  pulse slowed, until her breathing grew even, until you knew the woman would be far enough away from the pain to survive the loss of her left arm. Then you got to work. 

~~~

Sevika saw first another bright light and thought, oh, fuck, here we go again. 

She then discovered that she could not move her body. She was one tangled mass of tightness. Every fiber of her body seemed to be knotted up in another. She had the childish fear that if she made a movement she would tear apart at the seams, like a cloth left to freeze in the winter air. 

She then waited—waited for the second blast, waited for the sure and swift hand of death, waited for anything, really—a fucking change—anything better than this hellish state of immobility. 

The sound of metal striking metal jolted through her senses. Instinct caused her to start up, hands curled into fists. 

That was when the pain hit. 

She hadn’t actually moved—her body was still too sluggish for that—but the seizing of her muscles set every single cursed remaining nerve in her screaming. She couldn’t yet register what had really happened, where the sound came from, why she had tried to move so quickly. She could barely even think of who she was, her own name, why she was lying flat and shirtless on her back on a table in a chill dark room with a lamp in her face. All she could do was breathe hard and slow, trying to fight back the yell rising in her throat. 

Then there was a person hovering over her. Cool hands touching her face, which she hadn’t realized until right that instant was burning like hellfire. 

A voice drifting above her, like sweet rain, like mist by the river. 

“You’re okay. It’s okay. Breathe. It’s over.” 

What’s over? Who are you? Where am I? What did you do to me? 

“Mom?” Was the only question that actually made it through Sevika’s cracked lips. 

“Drink. Slow. It’s okay.” 

A rim of a cup was now at her lips, and instinctively she jerked her head away. The water splashed over her cheek, a blaze of cold fire. She winced and gasped, “No.” 

“Drink,” the voice repeated. “Or the shock will kill you.” 

The cool fingers rested firmly on Sevika’s jaw, guiding her mouth back to the cup full of fire and glass. This woman was going to kill her. This woman had her locked in a room tied to a table and now she was trying to kill her with a cup of poison. 

“Drink,” you said again. Your voice was too soft, too deep for a murderer. But Sevika had long learned not to trust any kind of exterior. 

Her lips parted, nearly against her will. As if they moved in response to a thirst she wasn’t aware of herself. And then the taste of sweet, cold water on her tongue. It shocked her. Never had she tasted pure water—the filth of the river and sewage water had everyone drinking liquor or getting by on fish guts. She got over the initial shock, then reached hungrily for the rim. It was drawn cruelly away from her. 

“Swallow,” you instructed her, like she was a small child. “You’ve inhaled a lot of smoke.”

She didn’t even care about the burn as the water went down. Her only thought was the cold sweetness on her tongue. 

“Good, isn’t it?” you said. “You wouldn’t believe the stuff pilties drink up there. Filtered water on the top of the list.” 

Slowly, Sevika inhaled the water in short breaths until the cup was empty. She could feel it clear her head, move the blood in her veins. Her vision cleared until she was aware of the ring of light above her, see the outline of odd instruments hanging on the walls. And she could feel the pain coursing through her in sharp, acute waves, with nothing now to take her mind from it. 

“I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything to help with the pain,” you said. “The only painkilling potion we have here was recently marked down by about twenty clients as utterly useless.” Sevika could see you moving around the room, fixing up something here, cleaning something in the sink. 

“Who are you?” Sevika rasped out. The movement of her voice in her throat felt like the grating of metal. 

You turned to face her. Sevika could make out a young, serious face. You smiled slightly, and your exhaustion showed in the rings under your eyes. “I’m a doctor.”

It was then that Sevika realized her hands were still curled into fists. With an effort she freed the fingers of her right hand. When she moved to do the same with her left, she discovered that she could not. She turned her face to look at her left hand. It was not there. 

The anesthesia was wearing off by the second, and everything was becoming bright and hot and terrifying. She could not see her left hand, but everything else began to move, as if something restraining her had suddenly broken loose and all her limbs were freed at once. Sevika struggled into a sitting position. This time she let out a ragged scream. 

“Easy, easy, easy.” Your hand on her right shoulder, the other braced against the back of her neck. “Easy,” you said again in a low voice. 

“What did you do, what—what the hell did you do?” Sevika gasped. “What did you do?” 

“Don’t move like that. You’ll mess up the tissue.” 

“What did you do what did you do what did you do?” Somewhere above her senses, even in a situation like this, Sevika was ashamed of the wild fear she knew was showing in her eyes. The crack in her voice, hinging on madness. She felt like a trapped beast waking out of a tranquilizer, looking for the first time into the eyes of its captor. 

“Stay still. I’ll get you another cup of—”

Sevika’s right hand reached up and tried to close around your throat, but by then the strength had drained out of her. You calmly detached Sevika’s fingers from your neck and held her hand tightly in both your own. 

“You need to calm down. I know how much pain you must be in right now, but panicking won’t help anything.” 

“Woman.” Sevika’s voice was too weak for yelling, and in a whisper it sounded even more dangerous. “What. Did you do. To me.”

“It had to be done,” you said quietly. “It was beyond saving. I’m sorry.” 

She didn’t want to look at it. She felt the vast absence, the great emptiness, the wide arc of space filled only by the mind-bending pain. She didn’t want to see her right hand in your grip, not when she knew she couldn’t see the left safely at her side. She closed her eyes and tried to will it all away. This was some mad dream she was in. One drink too many. Any minute now she would wake up and face a warning from Silco for drinking on the job. Any minute now this pain would all fade to a funny misunderstanding, a trick of her subconscious. 

Still it pulsed on, as hot and alive as a separate being. Sevika opened her eyes and looked down at the left side of her body. Her torso was wrapped in white bandages. A million needles of light danced between her bandaged shoulder and the empty drop beneath it. 

Then the tears came. 

She would be embarrassed later. She would be violent later. She would make the ridiculous, childish demands later—demands for her arm back, refusing to believe she had really lost it, cursing everything and everyone and every single fucking force in the universe that had allowed this to happen. She would hate later. She would be angry later. 

For now she just wept. And her head was buried in the crook of your shoulder and she could feel you holding her, rubbing circles into her back like her mother did when she was too small to know herself properly. She cried like a child who had just lost her mother. She cried as if she had lost a close friend. 

“It’s okay,” you kept saying. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” 

The word lost its meaning, but it was strangely comforting to hear it. She was lost in a world of pain, and the word with all its nonsensical certainty was gratifying to cling to, like a rope. 

She thought she felt your hand against her forehead, the brush of whispered words against her ear. She fell into a troubled sleep. 

~~~

Sevika (by now you had wrenched at least that bit of information from your patient) had been in your care for several days when Silco himself came by. He spoke through the window in the door, and you did not invite him in. 

“How soon can she return to work?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “She just lost her fucking arm. How soon do you think?” 

He stared back, and his glass eye twitched slightly. It seemed to be a challenge of its own. She lost her arm, I lost my eye. Do you think that ever stopped us? Do you dare underestimate us?

“What is her condition?” Silco asked.

You thought back to the morning. Sevika had tried to rip the bandages off her shoulder, saying she would attach the arm back on herself or die trying. 

“Furious,” you said. 

“So.” 

“She’s recovering. You need to give her time.” 

Silco studied you through the door. “You look terribly young for someone to perform an operation so serious.” 

“And you look awfully old for someone making the judgments you are now.” 

Silco seemed taken aback at this, but didn’t reply immediately. He looked down—even smiled. You watched the deep scars in his face shift as his lips moved, and thought unintentionally of the healing wounds on Sevika’s face, the burn scars settling into a curious web of tissue that glowed—inexplicably—a pale blue. 

“Tell her I came by,” Silco said. “Can you at least do that?” 

“Yes,” you said. “Nice seeing you, Silco.” 

“You’re not afraid of anything, are you?” 

“Can’t afford to be, you know, in the undercity.” 

He stayed a moment longer, watching you as if trying to extract a secret. You met his gaze unblinkingly. Then he turned and walked away.

You walked up the stairs into the room you had made as some kind of makeshift wing for Sevika, with a bed that hadn’t been occupied in god only knew how long and a basin for washing. It was littered now with rolls of gauze and bottles of ointment, whatever you could swipe from Piltover shelves. You didn’t like to leave Sevika long. The damned woman was filled with a dangerous restlessness. You had resorted to giving her strong doses of whiskey to knock her out for a few hours while you made the trip up and down the bridge. 

When awake and sober, Sevika was calm, almost cordial. She denied that she was in much pain, even apologized for taking up so much of your time and energy. She didn’t eat much, asked only for an occasional smoke to calm her nerves. It was when she was drunk, or half-awake, when the pain seemed to trigger a primal rage in her, when the pain made her dangerous. She would cry storms of tears that quickly turned into fury against whatever lay in her line of vision. She would throw whatever she could grab with her right arm, as if trying to prove the functionality of that remaining limb. She swore at you, accusing you of mutilating her on purpose. You did not fight, did not raise your voice. You kept heavy objects out of Sevika’s reach and were careful not to hurt her even when you were forced to immobilize Sevika for your own self-defense. 

It was when Sevika was asleep that tore at your heart. It was the helpless thin cries that rose from her lips, the cries for her mother, names of people you had never heard of who must have been close to Sevika once, long ago. When you changed the bandages, bathed the shoulder with pungent medicine to keep it from getting inflamed, Sevika looked so pitiful and small in her agony that your chest seized. 

You would not get attached. You would stay professional. Human sympathy, that was all it was, you told yourself. It was a hard thing, losing a limb. You have seen countless people die from it. Sevika was lucky to be alive, considering everything. That was it. Basic human sympathy. You knew nothing about Sevika. If anything, you knew enough about Sevika to know you would be glad when she was fully recovered and out of your hands. 

But still there were moments. You had seen her scared, you had seen her crying. Sevika knew this. Mostly it embarrassed her—all of it—and she was more than willing to pretend no such thing had ever happened. Other times, she seemed to give it all up. Abandon herself to her vulnerability. She would sit quietly and let you wash her hair. She would tell you about her dreams for the free nation of Zaun. 

You didn’t care for these airheaded political ideas. You thought there was enough to do on the ground without shooting for the stars. But you still loved, with a grudging and reluctant rapture, to listen to Sevika speak. She didn’t speak like a leader—her words were too short, her feelings too strong. But she spoke what was true to her, and you knew how rare it was to come across a person like that. 

~~~

Dusk was falling. You were lighting a cigarette for Sevika as she stood at the window, watching the light fall from the city rooftops. Standing so close to her, you had the urge to rest your head on Sevika’s right arm. She wore a tank top and from this angle she stood as tall and strong as a guardian angel of some sort, watching over the city and its million workings of fear and hope. The amputated shoulder was healing nicely. The burns on her skin had faded into thin veins of scarring, like cracks in the surface of a lovely broken marble statue. 

Sevika turned to you, and looked down at you through the cigarette smoke as if seeing you for the first time. You rearranged your features into indifferent serenity. Sevika had caught you off-guard; you had been watching the perfect curve of her nose, the ridges of her lips, her short lashes. Now you stood as guilty as a kid caught shoplifting. You waited for whatever Sevika was going to say, or do. You waited for something without expecting anything. You wanted nothing from Sevika. You wanted nothing and everything and then some. 

“Has…have you heard from Silco?” 

You looked up. Sevika had turned her gaze away. She was staring at the cigarette between her fingers, knocking the ash out the window. Funny, you thought suddenly, how her eyes seemed to change color between a matter of seconds. 

“I have,” you said. “He dropped by a week ago.” 

“A week?” Sevika echoed. She kept her eyes down. 

You thought of a soldier awaiting orders. Even if the order was for self-destruction, you realized Sevika would not hesitate to carry it out. Oh god, you thought. Oh god oh god oh god. 

“I waited to tell you. I didn’t want to upset you while you were still recovering.”

“Am I done for?” Sevika asked. Her voice was quiet. “Tell me. Was it a week's notice, or am I fired immediately?” 

You stared at her, unable to understand. Sevika looked at you. 

“He wanted to know when you could return to work,” you said. 

Then something changed in Sevika’s expression. She didn’t smile, nor did she scowl. A lightness came into her grey eyes, a hope, a lifting of a heavy weight that had been in her features all through the time she was with you. She took a long pull from the cigarette. Blew out the smoke in one long curl before speaking. 

“I’m ready tomorrow.” 

“What?”

“I would have gone back sooner,” Sevika explained, not quite to you, not quite to herself, “if I knew he wanted me back.” 

“You’re not serious,” you said. “You’re not serious, are you? You’re not actually going back?” 

“Not like this, I’m not,” Sevika said. “I need a new arm. Something better. Make up for the one I lost.” 

“Sevika, he’s the reason you nearly fucking died.” 

“I was doing my job.” The grey eyes cut you like a blade. “You don’t understand.” 

She was right. You did not understand. You did not understand the long nights sitting by Sevika’s side, pinching yourself awake, watching like a hawk for a trace of fever, a hint of infection. You did not understand the bouts of violent grief in which you held Sevika and listened to her tears until you yourself began to weep. You did not understand the hours of shifting daylight, changing bandages and lifting from stores in Piltover and running from enforcers and brewing calming potions and doing everything you could to keep Sevika from destroying herself. You did not understand anything but the empty sense of loss, a dislodgement in your world. You did not understand how you had been so blind. In the past weeks, Sevika has been everything to you. 

“You did so much for me,” Sevika said, and her words clouded into one another so that she already sounded as if she spoke from a great distance. “I won’t forget you.” 

You will, you thought. You already are.

~~~

You were sleeping when Sevika left. It was in the early hours of morning, and everything was ready. You had given the name and address of a well known mechanic in the undercity. You couldn’t be sure if Smeech was still in business, but Sevika had said it was good enough for her. Then there was nothing left to do. An awkward pause had settled. You muttered something about letting her get enough rest for tomorrow. Told her not to forget to take the medicine you packed for her to help the phantom pains. Then you went to your own room, shut the door, and sat without moving or making a sound until it got dark. 

You could hear your door open, and you could see through one half-opened eye that Sevika stood in the doorway. You did not get up. You feigned sleep, keeping your breaths even. You saw Sevika’s hesitation, you saw it in the uncertain way she stood. You watched Sevika raise her right hand and touch the door frame, as tenderly as if it was alive. Then she went away. You listened to her receding footsteps until a door somewhere closed and you knew for certain that Sevika had gone.

~~~

additional a/n: if you made it this far... um... pls accept my sincerest apologies🙏 ik i used the same title as my other sevika angst fic, that song breaks my heart every time i hear it. i don't know why i do this to myself. i am in tears.

[hypnobeauty]

a chance encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 11)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. masterlist cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, life being fucking hard can't my girls get a fucking break, pre squid game, domesticity, slice of life, salesman, wtf was she doing in that field, hyunju is a capricorn. a/n: hello lovelies! got crazy writer’s block while writing this, so do NOT get your hopes up. then got into a crazy spiral while writing thinking ‘omg i’m making so much stuff up, sounds weird’ but then i remembered… it’s literally fanfiction lol anyway, enjoy xx as usual comments are always welcome taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia @antisocial-aina @googie-jeon @christinamadsen @deernat @vvlwvvy @psychobitchsthings @dikeu-yoiz

part 11. when cards fall, we build

for two years, hyun-ju had been your home. it wasn’t just about love—it was in the way you had shaped each other’s lives, molded the contours of your days to fit together so seamlessly that the thought of being apart felt unnatural. she had once told you, in that quiet, thoughtful way of hers, “i never thought i’d have this. not like this, not with someone like you.” she hadn’t needed to elaborate; you had known exactly what she meant.

you had your own apartments, technically, but they had long since blurred into shared spaces. her sweatshirts lived in your closet, your earrings mysteriously ended up on her dresser, and neither of you knew who had originally bought the vanilla-scented hand cream that now sat in both bathrooms. you borrowed each other’s makeup without asking, left notes in the margins of each other’s books, and it was an unspoken rule that her fridge would always have your favorite yogurt, just like your cabinet would always have her preferred brand of coffee.

your routines had entwined just as naturally. she had introduced you to weight training, and though you still claimed to hate it, you went with her to the gym anyway—mostly for the way she would smirk at you in the mirror and whisper, “one more set, you’ll thank me later.” you booked your nail appointments together, sat side by side at the hair salon flipping through magazines. saturday mornings were for errands, grocery shopping side by side, your carts always ending up with at least two things you didn’t need because “aein, look, it’s cute.” even on the busiest of days, you always found time for each other, whether it was a quiet meal after work or simply falling asleep with your head on her chest, her fingers idly stroking your back.

hyun-ju had never expected this. she had never imagined waking up to someone who kissed her shoulder before getting out of bed, never thought she would come home to someone waiting for her, smiling at her like she was their favorite part of the day. but it had happened, and she had never felt more grateful. she was head over heels, in the way she watched you when you weren’t looking, in the way she always pulled you close like she was afraid you might slip away.

she had never imagined this for herself, not really. for so long, she had been cautious, guarded, always aware of how she was perceived. but with you, she had let herself be. and then, there was her. the version of herself she had kept locked away for so long, the parts of her that had once felt too indulgent, too exposed. she had always been careful, deliberate, measured in her presence. but with you? with you, she had begun to relax into herself again.

she started dressing the way she truly wanted—not just comfortable, but expressive. she let herself enjoy the way she looked, the way she felt in her own skin. you never commented on the shift outright, never made a big deal out of it—but the way your eyes lit up every time, the way your fingers would trace the collar of her shirt and murmur, “you look so good, hyun-ju,” was enough to make her feel like she was glowing.

and then, there was the dancing.

hyun-ju didn’t dance. at least, that was what she had always claimed. too self-conscious, too aware of her body, of the way people watched, judged. but one night, after too much alcohol, after you had pulled her by the hands and twirled her around the living room, she had caved. and after that? it had become a thing. behind closed doors, with only you, she let herself move freely—laughing as you made her spin, rolling her eyes as you made her sway to whatever song was playing, letting herself press close when the music slowed. she still grumbled about it, still claimed it was your thing, not hers, but you both knew the truth.

she was happy. happier than she ever remembered being.

with you, she didn’t have to think so hard. she didn’t have to weigh every action, didn’t have to anticipate every reaction. she could just be, and for someone like her, someone who had spent so much of her life trying to navigate the world carefully, that was everything.

she never told you all of this outright, never put it into words the way you might, but she showed you in the way she touched you, the way she always pulled you close in sleep, the way she whispered your name like it was something sacred. “i never thought i’d have this,” she had admitted once, voice barely above a whisper in the dark. “not like this.”

and now, she couldn’t imagine being without it. you belonged to each other, in every possible way.

everything happened so fast. in the last six months, your life had turned completely upside down. it began with a desperate call from your mother one saturday morning in march. you had been sitting at hyun-ju’s small kitchen table, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the warmth of sunlight streaming through the window. breakfast was simple but comforting—scrambled eggs, toast, and jam you’d bought from a street vendor the week before.

your phone buzzed, and when you saw your mom’s name on the screen, a chill ran through you. her voice was frantic, the words tumbling out in a rush: your father had collapsed at the factory and was being rushed to the er.

your fork clattered onto your plate as you scrambled to stand. your hands shook as you tried to grab your bag, your mind already spinning with worst-case scenarios. hyun-ju was by your side in an instant, her hands on your arms, steadying you. “aein, breathe,” she said softly, her voice grounding. “i’ll drive you.”

the drive to the hospital passed in a blur. hyun-ju kept one hand on the wheel and the other on your knee, her touch grounding as your mind raced through worst-case scenarios.

at the hospital, she held you tight in the waiting area, her arms wrapped securely around you as you sobbed into her shirt. she didn’t flinch when your tears soaked through the fabric. her hand moved in slow circles on your back, her voice a quiet murmur in your ear. “he’ll be okay,” she whispered, though you could feel her own fear in the way her grip tightened around you.

your father survived. it was a heart attack, but the doctors said he’d need medication for the rest of his life. you drained your savings to pay for his hospital stay, the medicine, and the endless tests they had to run.

but he didn’t get better. the heart attack left him with heart failure, and soon, he needed a pacemaker. that meant more tests, surgery, and the device itself—each expense piling higher than the last. this time, there were no savings left to drain. you had to go to the bank, taking out a loan you prayed you could repay in small installments.

but what you never expected was to lose your job. the office felt different when you walked in that morning—quieter, heavier, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. you’d been back for only two days after taking time off to care for your father, but you could already feel the strain in the air. deadlines loomed, and your desk was a chaotic mess of files and unfinished designs. you’d spent the last two nights working late to catch up, but it wasn’t enough.

when the email from hr landed in your inbox, asking you to come to the head manager’s office, your stomach dropped. the walk to the office felt interminable. every step echoed in your ears, and when you opened the door, the sight of three people waiting for you confirmed your worst fears.

the head manager sat at the center of the table, his hands folded neatly in front of him. your direct boss sat to his right, her gaze fixed firmly on the surface of the table. the hr representative sat to the left, her face carefully neutral.

“please, have a seat,” the head manager said, gesturing to the chair across from them. you sat down, your hands gripping the edge of the chair to steady yourself.

the head manager began with a practiced speech, his tone polished but impersonal. he praised your skills, your creativity, your contributions to the agency. “you’ve been an invaluable member of the team,” he said, as if that softened the blow of what was coming next.

“but,” he continued, his tone shifting, “your recent absence has caused significant disruptions. your projects had to be reassigned, which placed an undue burden on your colleagues.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“we understand that your reasons for taking time off were personal and important,” he said. “but the reality is that the agency cannot afford this level of unpredictability.”

“i’ll make it up,” you said quickly, your voice trembling. “i’ll take on extra projects, whatever it takes. just give me a chance.”

the head manager sighed, glancing at the hr representative. “it’s not just about the workload. there have also been concerns raised about… personal choices.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and pointed. your stomach churned, and your eyes darted to your direct boss. she still wouldn’t look at you.

you knew exactly what he meant. your relationship with hyun-ju wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t something you flaunted either. a photo of the two of you sat on your desk, and you’d mentioned her in passing to colleagues. apparently, that was enough.

“i see,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible.

the rest of the meeting passed in a blur. by the time you walked out, clutching the severance paperwork in your trembling hands, tears were already spilling down your cheeks.

back at your desk, you began packing your things. your wacom tablet, your paper blocks, pens and markers. a small succulent your colleagues had given you on your first day and you were very proud of keeping alive for years. the framed photo of you and hyun-ju, her arms wrapped around you, both of you smiling like nothing in the world could touch you.

your friends gathered around you, their hugs and words of encouragement breaking what little composure you had left. ha-neul sobbed openly, clutching your arm. “i’m quitting,” she declared, her voice thick with emotion. “if they’re going to treat you like this, i’m done.”

“don’t be absurd,” you said, forcing a weak smile as you wiped her tears. “you have a facelift to pay for, remember?”

she let out a watery laugh, but the pain in her eyes mirrored your own.

meanwhile, hyun-ju found work as a shooting range instructor in gwangmyeong. she excelled at it, her ease with firearms both impressive and a little unnerving. she’d taken you to the range once, laughing when the gun’s recoil sent you stumbling. she made it look effortless, her arm steady as she hit the target with precision every time.

weeks later, the weight of your dismissal still lingered. freelance jobs trickled in, thanks to the kindness of your friends and ex-boss, but the debt loomed like a shadow over everything. your father’s medical expenses were relentless, and the loan payments barely made a dent.

hyun-ju wasn’t faring much better. her job paid decently, but her own debt was staggering. ₩330 million—years of hormone treatments, surgeries, and the recovery periods that kept her out of work. she tried to hide her stress from you, but you saw it in the way her shoulders slumped after long days and the way she stared at her bank statements for far too long.

one evening, as you worked at your desk, you heard her sigh heavily from the bed behind you. “i’m thinking about moving to gwangmyeong,” she said.

you turned to see her sprawled across your mattress, still in her uniform, her arm draped over her eyes.

“i’m sorry?”

she lifted her arm, exhaustion clear in her face. “i can’t keep doing this, aein. the commute is killing me. it’s too much.” she had recently sold her car to help paying her debt and was taking the bus back and forth everyday.

her voice was steady, but you could hear the strain beneath it. you nodded, though the thought of her moving farther away made your chest tighten. “i get it. makes sense.”

you turned back to your computer, pretending to focus on the screen.

“i’ve already started looking,” she said.

that caught your attention. you frowned, glancing back at her again. “you have?”

she sat up, her expression unreadable. “i found a small house. it’s two stories—tiny, but enough. one bedroom, one bathroom. there’s even a little front yard.”

you hummed in response, trying to sound indifferent, though a knot of sadness twisted in your stomach. had she been planning this without you? not that she couldn’t, but it’d be nice to know.

hyun-ju stood and walked over to you, her footsteps soft on the floor. she stopped behind you, her hands settling on your shoulders. “and there’s a space by the window for a desk. natural light, just like you love.”

her words were so careful, so deliberate, that you finally turned to look at her.

“let’s move in together,” she said suddenly, her voice steady but her eyes searching for yours.

“what?” you asked, startled.

“let’s move in together,” she repeated, her hands tightening on your shoulders. “you work from home, and i work there. it makes sense. we’ve been spending almost all our time together anyway.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but she kept going, her words tumbling out in a nervous rush. “i’ve done the math. we’d save so much money. and i know it’s farther from your parents, but you can still visit them every week. i’ll make sure of it. there’s enough space for all your things. and it’s not perfect, it’s not thailand, but we’ll make it work. together.”

“hyun-ju,” you said softly, placing your hands over hers.

her ramble came to an abrupt stop, her eyes wide and uncertain.

“yes,” you said, your voice steady.

“yes?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“yes!” you said again, laughing as she pulled you to your feet and wrapped her arms around you. she lifted you effortlessly, spinning you around as you squealed in surprise.

for a moment, the weight of debt and worry melted away, replaced by the simple joy of knowing you’d face it together.

everything had unraveled so quickly, and now, three months later, you could barely recognize the life you used to have.

the week after you and hyun-ju decided to move in together, you gave up the lease on your apartment and put your car up to sale as well—it had been sitting with little to no use for a while since you lost your job. packing up your things felt bittersweet—each item carefully folded or boxed carried memories of independence, of a life you’d built on your own. ha-neul, of course, made the biggest fuss when you told her. “what do you mean you’re leaving seoul?” she wailed, clutching her chest dramatically. “you can’t just abandon me in this overpriced hellhole!”

but she came around, as she always did, even helping you sort through your furniture. deciding what to keep and what to sell was a delicate negotiation between you and hyun-ju, with plenty of compromises along the way. your parents, surprisingly, took the news well. they had been slowly warming up to the idea of having a lesbian daughter, and now your mother even asked about hyun-ju and your possible future babies whenever you visited. “how’s our hyun-ju doing?” she’d say, sending her greetings over the phone.

despite the challenges, the two of you settled into your new home with a sense of cautious optimism. the house was small, and finding space for both your belongings required a lot of planning—and a few arguments—but it worked. there were moments of quiet joy that made all the struggles worthwhile: sharing coffee on the front steps in the morning, cooking dinner together in the tiny kitchen, and falling asleep tangled in each other’s arms at the end of a long day.

but those moments couldn’t erase the reality of your financial situation.

the bills arrived like clockwork, along with the dunning letters that seemed to mock you every month. hyun-ju’s last surgery, breast implants six months ago, had been a long-awaited milestone for her. you’d told her she was perfect the way she was, but she wanted this for herself, and you supported her wholeheartedly. still, it left her with little room to help with your own growing debt.

at night, when the two of you wound down from your days, hyun-ju sometimes voiced her frustrations in whispers. “i hate this,” she’d say, her arms wrapped tightly around you. “i hate that we’re stuck like this.”

when you tried to reassure her, she’d shake her head, guilt clouding her eyes. “you lost your job because of me. if it weren’t for—”

“stop,” you’d interrupt, pulling her closer. “don’t say that. i’d choose you over any job, any day.”

but the truth was, it was hard. some weeks, you scraped by—barely covering rent, utilities, internet, transportation, food, your father’s insurance, hyun-ju’s insurance, her hormones and supplements, and the surprise expenses that always seemed to crop up. by july 2024, your combined debt had reached a staggering ₩455 million.

*

on september 10th, you found yourself at a bus stop in seoul, waiting for the bus to take you home after visiting your family. the air at the bus stop was cool but not biting, a gentle reminder that autumn was on its way. you adjusted your cardigan, pulling it tighter around you as you sat on the cold metal bench. beside you, the large reusable bag filled with pots of homemade food from your mom was a comforting presence. she’d insisted on packing enough to last a week—soups, stews, and side dishes carefully labeled and stacked.

the street was quiet, eerily so. the faint hum of distant traffic was the only sound, and the empty road stretched out before you like an endless void. you glanced at your phone, checking the bus schedule. ten more minutes.

that was when you noticed him.

he seemed to materialize out of nowhere, stepping into the glow of the streetlight with an air of purpose. his suit was immaculate, a tailored gray that clung perfectly to his frame. his black shoes gleamed like polished obsidian, and his hair was parted and slicked back without a single strand out of place. in his hand, he carried a sleek black case.

he stopped a few feet away, his posture unnervingly still, and smiled at you. it wasn’t a warm smile—it was toothless and hollow, like a mask of politeness stretched over something much darker.

“good evening,” he said, his voice smooth and practiced, like a salesman greeting a potential client.

you blinked, caught off guard. “good evening,” you replied cautiously, your voice tinged with unease. “look, i respect your faith, but i’m not interested.”

he chuckled softly, the sound low and almost amused. “oh, i’m not here to preach.”

you frowned, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. “then what do you want?”

he took a step closer, his hands resting lightly on the handle of his case. “i want to help you.”

you scoffed, glancing back at the road. still no sign of the bus. “help me?”

he said your name and your heart stopped.

“w-what?” you stammered, your head snapping toward him. “how do you know my name?”

the man’s smile widened—calm, practiced, a predator’s grin masquerading as polite amusement. it didn’t reach his eyes.

“oh, i know a lot about you.”

the air in your lungs turned to stone. your fingers twitched at your sides.

“what…?” the word barely stumbled out.

he adjusted his cufflinks, as if this was just another business transaction, as if he wasn’t about to peel back the layers of your life with surgical precision. “your name. your age. twenty-eight, right? born and raised in mangu-dong.” he tilted his head, watching you closely, savoring the way your muscles tensed. “smart girl. seoul national university, college of fine arts. design major. graduated with debt so steep it followed you like a shadow for years. you finally managed to pay it off—not that it helped much in the grand scheme of things, did it?”

your stomach twisted, the words sinking into you, anchoring you to the chair.

“i know about your parents. your mother is a seamstress. still working herself to the bone for so little, still ignoring the pain in her hands because she can’t afford to stop. and your father, the factory worker with a heart that turned against him before he could ever retire. the pacemaker alone cost ₩38 million.that hospital? dongguk university hospital? they love seeing his name on their patient list, don’t they?”

a slow, barely-there chuckle left him, as if this was amusing. as if your father’s failing heart was just another line on a page.

“and then,” he continued, ever so smoothly, “there’s the agency job. hanul creative. your fresh start. your dream, wasn’t it?” his eyes flickered with something like delight when you flinched. “you were good—no, you were great. but that didn’t matter in the end, did it?because talent doesn’t mean anything when the people above you decide you’re wrong for their ‘company image.’”

your mouth felt dry. you swallowed, hard.

“and then there’s her.”

the world tilted.

“cho hyun-ju.” The way he said her name—slow, deliberate—sent a spike of ice through your chest. “Your dear, your girl.” his lips curled, relishing the way your breath hitched. “two years together, six months in that tiny shoebox you call 'home' in gwangmyeong. the life you were trying so hard to build, despite everything crumbling around you.”

he let the silence stretch, his smile sharpening as he watched the war play out behind your eyes.

“she’s drowning too, isn’t she?” he mused, almost pitying. almost. “all that military service, all those years, and what does she have to show for it? a pension that barely scratches the surface of her debts? the loans she took out when she left? a future, maybe?” he exhaled, as if it was exhausting just talking about it. “i know she tried. tried to take the burden off your shoulders. but in the end… it was never enough.”

your throat burned. you felt exposed, gutted, like he had reached into your chest and dragged your ribs apart.

“h-how…” the question barely formed, your voice cracking under its own weight. “how do you know all this?”

the salesman tilted his head, the faintest ghost of amusement dancing in his gaze. “ah, now that’s the wrong question.” he leaned forward, voice lowering to something smooth, something dangerous. “it doesn’t matter how i know.” his fingers tapped against the briefcase beside him, rhythmic, calculated. “what matters… is that i have a proposal for you.”

he crouched slightly, setting the black case on the ground. your mind raced. was there a weapon inside? was he going to rob you? kill you?

you tensed, ready to run, but when he opened the case, there were no weapons—just two square tiles of ddakji and stacks of 50,000 bills.

“i’m sure you’ve played before,” he said, holding them up with a faint smile. “let’s play a few rounds. each time you win, i’ll pay you ₩100,000.”

you stared at him, your brow furrowing. “i don’t have any money to play with.”

“you can pay with your body,” he said matter-of-factly.

your stomach churned, and you recoiled. he must have seen the disgust on your face because he chuckled again. “not like that. if you lose, i slap your face. simple as that.”

the thought of ₩100,000—real, tangible money—made you pause. you could buy groceries with that. pay a bill. maybe even have something left over.

reluctantly, you took the blue tile.

“good choice,” he said, tossing the red tile onto the ground.

you threw your tile, trying to remember the strategies you’d used as a child. it spun through the air but landed flat, barely moving the red tile.

the man smiled, crouching to pick up his tile. with a practiced flick of his wrist, he sent it flying, and it flipped your tile effortlessly.

before you could react, his hand connected with your cheek in a sharp, stinging slap. your head snapped to the side, your ear ringing as you stumbled back.

the shame burned almost as much as the slap itself.

“again,” you said, your voice trembling.

the next round, you won. he handed you two crisp bills, and you stared at it, half-expecting it to dissolve in your hand. but it was real.

you played several more rounds, losing three and winning ₩700,000. each slap left your cheek burning, but the weight of the money in your hand kept you going.

finally, the man packed up his tiles, his movements calm and deliberate. “you’re good at this,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “you have potential.”

he handed you a small brown card. one side bore three symbols—a circle, a square, and a triangle. the other side had a single phone number.

“call this number,” he said, his voice almost kind. “you won’t regret it.”

you stared at the card, your heart racing. “who are you?”

“i’m just a messenger,” he replied, his toothless smile returning. “oh, look. there’s your bus.”

you turned, and sure enough, the bus was pulling up to the curb. you grabbed your bag and rushed to board, your hands trembling.

as you sat by the window, clutching the card, you looked back at the bus stop. the man was gone. but the sting on your cheek, the weight of the money in your pocket, and the card in your hand told you he had been very real.

*

you decided not to tell hyun-ju about the encounter.

you knew her too well—she’d worry, and get upset. the last thing you needed was for her to add another burden to her already heavy load. when she noticed the redness on your cheek that night, her eyes narrowed with concern.

“what happened here?” she asked, brushing her fingers gently over the tender skin.

“oh, i tripped,” you said quickly, offering a sheepish smile. “i’m so clumsy.”

her brows knit together, and for a moment, you thought she might press further. but instead, she sighed, shaking her head as she grabbed an ice pack from the freezer. “you need to be more careful,” she said softly, holding it to your cheek.

you winced at the cold but didn’t protest. her eyes lingered on you, doubtful but unwilling to push.

three days later, the secret unraveled.

you were working at your desk when you heard hyun-ju’s voice call your name from upstairs.

“yes, aein?” you called back, standing and making your way to the bedroom.

when you reached the doorway, you saw her holding the black jeans you’d worn on your trip to seoul. her other hand held the small brown card, its sharp edges catching the light.

your breath hitched.

she turned to you, her expression unreadable as she held up the card. “what’s this?”

“i can explain—” you started, but the words faltered as she walked past you.

you turned, watching as she went to her side of the wardrobe. she opened a drawer, rummaging for a moment before pulling something out. when she turned back, your heart nearly stopped.

she was holding an identical card.

“when?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“last month,” she said, her tone steady but low. “when you spent the weekend at ha-neul's. i was leaving work. and you?”

“when i went to seoul this week,” you replied.

she nodded, her gaze dropping to the cards in her hands. “have you called?”

“no,” she admitted. “have you?”

you shook your head. “no. but i’ve thought about it.”

you sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. the weight of the past few days pressed down on you as you tried to gather your thoughts. hyun-ju joined you, sitting close enough that your knees touched. she handed you your card, her fingers brushing against yours.

“i’ve thought about it too,” she confessed, biting her lip. “i made ₩300,000. how much did you make?”

“₩700,000,” you said, letting out a soft chuckle, and getting her card from her hands. “i put it in the savings account.”

her eyes widened. “that’s a lot. good. that’s good. i used mine to pay off an installment at the bank.”

you turned the cards over in your hands, comparing them. the symbols on the front were identical, but the numbers on the back were different. “they’re different numbers,” you noted, holding them up for her to see.

hyun-ju leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she studied them. “we made ₩1 million together just playing ddakji,” she murmured. her gaze shifted to yours, her expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. “what do you think it’s about?”

“i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice low. “but he knew everything about me—my name, my debt, my father. he even knew about you.”

hyun-ju’s jaw tightened. “the man who approached you… was he wearing a suit?”

you nodded and she sighed. “he knew about you too. he said there’d be a lot more where that came from.”

the room fell silent for a moment, the weight of unspoken possibilities hanging between you.

“what if we call?” you suggested tentatively. “just to… see what they say.”

hyun-ju hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. then she nodded. “okay. let’s call.”

you ran downstairs to grab your phone, your heart pounding as you climbed back up. sitting beside hyun-ju on the bed, you dialed the number on your card and hit speaker.

the phone rang once before a deep, robotic voice answered.

“say your name and birthday.”

you swallowed hard and replied.

“welcome. be at cheolmangsan park at 9 p.m. on october 30th.”

the line went dead.

hyun-ju stared at the phone, her brows furrowing. she grabbed hers and quickly dialed the number on her card.

the same voice answered.

“say your name and birthday.”

“cho hyun-ju, december 27th, 1991.” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in her shoulders.

“welcome. be at dogonaegogae trail at 9 p.m. on october 30th.”

the call ended abruptly.

“two different places,” you murmured, turning the cards over in your hands. “the same time and day.”

hyun-ju’s gaze was fixed on the cards, her expression unreadable. “what do you think is going to happen?”

you shook your head, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “i guess we’ll find out.”

hyun-ju turned to you, her eyes softening as she leaned in. her lips brushed against yours in a kiss that was both tender and grounding, a silent reassurance that whatever lay ahead, you’d face it together.

now that hyun-ju found the card, her sharp intuition pieced together parts of the story you hadn’t shared.

when you told her you’d tripped, she didn’t press you that night. but as she held the ice pack to your cheek, her eyes lingered on you, scrutinizing the redness. “that’s an odd place for a fall,” she’d said softly, almost to herself. you’d brushed it off, smiling through the ache in your cheek and the guilt bubbling in your chest.

now, as the two of you sat on the bed with the cards in hand, you could feel the tension radiating from her.

“i knew you were lying,” hyun-ju said suddenly, her voice quiet but firm.

you froze, your fingers tightening around the card. “what?”

“about tripping,” she clarified, her gaze steady. “i didn’t push because i thought you’d tell me when you were ready. but now…” she held up her card. “now i know why you didn’t.”

you sighed, guilt settling heavily on your shoulders. “i didn’t want to worry you,” you admitted. “i thought if i told you, you’d try to find him or—”

“of course i’d try to find him,” she interrupted, her voice tinged with frustration. “you came home with a red cheek and a lie, and i knew something wasn’t right. i just didn’t think it’d be this.”

her tone softened as she looked down at the card in her hand. “when he slapped me, i didn’t expect it. it wasn’t just the pain—it was the humiliation. it felt… calculated. like he knew exactly how to make you feel powerless.”

you reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. i just… i didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

hyun-ju squeezed your hand, her lips pressing into a thin line. “i get it. but we’re in this together, okay? no more hiding things like this.”

you nodded, the weight of her words settling in your chest.

the next few days were a blur of restless energy and unanswered questions.

you both tried searching for any clues about the cards, the symbols, or the phone numbers. late at night, you sat side by side on the couch, your laptops open as you scoured forums and social media.

“try searching the symbols,” hyun-ju suggested, her brow furrowed as she typed furiously.

you typed “circle square triangle card korea” into the search bar, hoping for something—anything—that would shed light on what you’d gotten yourselves into. the results were sparse, mostly unrelated posts about geometry or design.

“nothing,” you muttered, leaning back with a frustrated sigh.

hyun-ju let out a soft hum of agreement, her eyes scanning the screen in front of her. “it’s like it doesn’t exist,” she said, her voice tinged with unease.

occasionally, you’d stumble across a vague post or comment about “invitations” or “games,” but they were always cryptic and unhelpful. one post on an obscure forum mentioned a man in a suit handing out cards, but the thread was abandoned, with no replies or follow-ups.

“it’s like chasing shadows,” hyun-ju said one night, closing her laptop with a sigh.

despite the dead ends, the cards remained a constant presence, sitting on the coffee table like silent witnesses to your growing anxiety.

in the quiet moments, the weight of what might happen began to creep in.

“what if it’s dangerous?” hyun-ju asked one evening, her voice barely above a whisper.

you glanced at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her tone. hyun-ju was rarely one to admit fear, her years in the military giving her an air of steady confidence.

“i’ve thought about that,” you admitted. “but… what if it’s not? what if it’s the answer we’ve been looking for?”

hyun-ju didn’t reply immediately, her gaze fixed on the card in her hand. “it’s just… we’re already so far in debt. if this goes wrong, it could ruin everything.”

you reached for her, pulling her into your arms. “we don’t have to do this,” you said softly. “we can just throw the cards away and forget this ever happened.”

hyun-ju leaned into you, her head resting on your shoulder. “but what if it’s our way out?” she whispered.

the question hung in the air, unanswered.

the days leading up to october 30th felt both excruciatingly slow and suffocatingly fast. time moved like molasses when you tried to distract yourself with work or chores, yet every time you glanced at the calendar, the date seemed closer than it had any right to be.

*

on the morning of october 30th, the tension was palpable.

you spent the day trying to focus on work, but your mind kept drifting to the card sitting on the table. every time you glanced at the clock, your stomach churned.

hyun-ju was quieter than usual, her movements deliberate as she went about her day. when she caught you staring at her, she gave you a small, reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

by evening, the two of you were ready to leave. hyun-ju adjusted the strap of her bag, her expression unreadable. “are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice steady but low.

you nodded, clutching the card in your hand. “i am if you are.”

she reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. “whatever happens, we do this together. okay?”

“okay,” you replied, squeezing her hand.

the night air was cool, carrying with it the faint scent of autumn leaves and damp earth. you and hyun-ju stood at the edge of your small front yard, the cards tucked safely into your pockets. the house behind you, your shared sanctuary, seemed so much smaller now, dwarfed by the enormity of what you were about to do.

hyun-ju reached out, her fingers brushing against yours before clasping your hand firmly. her grip was warm, grounding you in the moment.

“you call me, no matter what,” you said, your voice steady despite the unease bubbling in your chest.

she nodded, her dark eyes fixed on yours. “sure. you call me too.”

the two of you lingered, neither willing to let go just yet. when she pulled you into a tight embrace, you melted into her arms, the familiar scent of her and the warmth of her body momentarily easing the tension.

hyun-ju tilted her head down, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, as if she were trying to pour every unspoken word into that single moment. when you finally pulled apart, her hand lingered on your cheek.

“we’ll be okay,” she said softly.

you nodded, not trusting your voice.

then, with a shared glance that held both fear and determination, you turned and began walking in opposite directions. the weight of her absence hit you immediately, but you resisted the urge to look back.

*

you arrived at cheolmangsan park fifteen minutes early, the chill in the air doing little to calm your nerves. the park was eerily quiet, the usual hum of city life replaced by an oppressive stillness. you paced along the path, your hands shoved deep into your pockets as you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.

unable to bear the silence any longer, you pulled out your phone and called hyun-ju.

“hello?” she answered on the first ring, her voice steady but tinged with tension.

“are you there yet?” you asked, your breath visible in the cool air.

“i’ve been here for a few minutes,” she replied. “dogonaegogae trail is just as creepy as it sounds.”

you let out a soft laugh, though it felt hollow. “i hate this.”

“me too,” she admitted. “but we’re here now.”

the two of you talked quietly, your voices filling the void as you tried to reassure each other. the conversation was a lifeline, a thread connecting you across the city.

then, headlights cut through the darkness, and you turned to see a black van pulling up to the curb.

“there’s a van here,” you said, your heart pounding.

“same here,” hyun-ju replied. her voice grew quieter. “it’s stopping.”

“so is mine,” you said, your grip tightening on the phone.

the van’s door slid open, and a voice crackled through a speaker inside. “enter.”

you hesitated, your pulse racing.

“i think… i think this is it,” hyun-ju said.

you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “be careful, okay?”

“you too,” she said softly. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you replied, your voice breaking slightly.

the line went dead.

you slipped your phone into your pocket and stepped toward the van, your legs feeling like lead. the interior was dark, the faint glow of a light casting long shadows across the seats.

as you climbed in, your eyes landed on a man slumped in the seat ahead of you, his mouth open and his head resting against the window. he wasn’t moving.

“what… what’s happening?” you asked, your voice trembling. you reached for the door, but it wouldn’t budge. panic set in, your breaths coming faster as you fumbled for your phone.

before you could dial hyun-ju’s number, a faint hiss filled the air. you turned just in time to see a small pig-shaped sculpture on the dashboard release a spray of gas.

your vision blurred, your limbs growing heavy as you struggled to stay conscious. “no… wait…” you mumbled, your body slumping against the seat.

[meo-eiru]

(don’t mind me as I write another fanfic in your asks 😗)

Elias x ghost reader (gender neutral)

tw: suicide, slight nsfw, ghostly activities, swearing.

————————————————————————————————

Ever since you’ve died 500 years ago, at the time you expected there to be no afterlife since you didn’t believe in the supernatural.. until your death happened and you became a ghost.

You’ve always been a bit of a prankster during the time you were alive and that habit didn’t really change once you’ve died in fact it only increased when you realized that no one could see or hear you, terrorizing villagers, possessing random objects or people, etc.

It always got a chuckle out of you when you would hover over churches as the priests chanted about how demons were among them when it was really just you, plus it was all you could do since the afterlife is kinda boring when your a ghost.

Fast forward to modern times and you roaming through the night bored out of your mind having nothing to do, people aren’t as horrified of ghosts as they used to be.

As you Roam the town you see a pretty girl walking down the street in a jacket and jeans, finally a good scare to cure your boredom, you slowly approach the girl or well.. float over to her then as you get closer and closer..

Wait. Is she looking at you? No no that’s impossible maybe it’s just a coincidence.. though you hover around her just in case she does and her gaze follows you the whole time, ok she definitely sees you but can she hear you?

you: “can you hear me?”

???: yea..

You: “What the fuck???.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

…………………………………………………………………………………

…………………………………………………………………………………

…………………………………………………………………………………

THATS A MAN???

You had no idea that a guy could be that feminine I mean sure you saw some pretty men before but this is on a whole other level, You didn’t even notice that he was looking at you mesmerized as well.

You snap out of amazement as you realize that.. this dude hasn’t blinked one time and it kinda looks like his eyes about to fall out if he keeps staring at you like that, you looked down at him curiously since the living has never been able to see you and yet here this guy is looking up at you as if your some goddess when in your personal opinion your ok looking at best.

You: “soooo what’s your name beautiful?

Elias: “Elias..”

You: “cool! So uh why are you walking out so late at night?”

Elias doesn’t answer you that time since he just continues to look up at you like your a goddess which is kinda making you feel awkward at this point since you haven’t really interacted with someone in centuries that isn’t either possession, jump scares or prank or what you consider a prank.

You snap your fingers in front of him to make sure he’s still in the right headspace, he hasn’t blinked in 5 minutes and it’s kinda hard to look at but after you nudge him a little he finally snaps out of his trance which makes you sigh in relief.

You: “so now will you answer me and tell me what your doing out so late tall, pale and beautiful?”

Elias: “o-oh Yea right, I was just strolling around the neighborhood for a breath of fresh air.

You: “at three am?”

Elias: “yea?”

You: “uh ok.. I’ll just go now.”

Elias: “WAIT!!”

You: oh god.. what?

Elias: “wanna come with me.”

You: “uhh ok?”

Elias: wait really?

you: “well yea I don’t do much anyways, the afterlife is kinda boring so lead the way pretty boy.”

Elias is kinda surprised that you agreed so quickly leads the way to his home and as you reach there, man his place is really nice yet he doesn’t seem to react to it much, Elias unlocks the door to him while you just float in.

You explore his apartment loft apartment admiring all the antiques, paintings, his bedroom, bathrooms, etc. but you do notice that his apartment doesn’t really have any personality in it other then the fact that it looks nice.

You float back to Elias who is sitting on his couch while watching tv and doesn’t seem to notice your there yet so you take this as an opportunity to give him a little scare, you slowly hover behind then jump out in front of him.

Elias doesn’t really seem to flinch all that much as he kinda just stares you, you lower your hands in disappointment as you hover over him

You: “oh come on your not even a little scared?

Elias: “No? Would you like for me to act scared darling?

you: “well ye- hold up did you just call me darling?”

Elias: yea? What’s wrong?

You: “woahhh let’s slow the fuck down and calm it with the pet names alright?”

Elias looks at you confused as he then tries to touch you but his hand just goes through your body, You kinda just look at him awkwardly as he looks at his hand then back at you.

You: “Ok so how about we start off slow and then I’ll get with you, sound good?”

Elias:…fine.

Elias pouts as he leans on the couch but doesn’t really stop staring at you, you two will have to work on his staring problem in the future.

Months go by and Elias becomes more clingy while you don’t really mind, it’s not like your really gonna be leaving any time soon, well you could leave at any time and there is no way that Elias could stop you from doing so which Elias knows and makes him kinda paranoid.

However you two have started dating a little while ago, Elias was ecstatic when you said yes to dating him, now you must be wondering how you and Elias’s sex life is going. Well it’s surprisingly going fine at least for you, since you can’t really touch each other physically you can still use toys on him which is great but..

Elias wants to actually touch you and feel you but he knows he can’t, he would sometimes go into meltdowns when you decided to leave the apartment, thinking that you were with someone and when you come home to seeing him have those meltdowns, you would awkwardly comfort and reassure him that your not cheating which somehow worked each time.

Since you haven’t exactly interacted with anyone else directly for centuries so your comfort skills aren’t exactly the best plus your too emotionally detached to fully care for when he has said meltdowns, though the main reason you comfort him is because you don’t want the possibility of being with him for eternity if he were to turn into a ghost when he dies.

You love him but only to an extent of which someone would love their pet, you find him entertaining, love him and spoil him with affection but at the end of the day they are just a pet and they are replaceable or at least that is how it is in your mindset.

One day you come back to the apartment but Elias seems nowhere to be seen, you explore the apartment from head to toe but still can’t find him for some reason, not even in his usual spots until you find a note that seems to be by Elias that says to meet him by the beach at night.

You wait until it gets dark then you float over to the beach just to see Elias and him holding a gun to his head with his hair a mess and clear tear stains from him crying, you slowly hover over to him trying to get him to drop the gun.

Elias slightly moves his finger over the trigger of the gun which for the first time in decades makes you panic a little, you love him but not enough to want to possibly spend eternity together.

Your voice starts getting a little shaky as you continue to try to provoke him to not shoot himself in the head and for a little while it seems to be working as Elias slowly begins to weaken his finger on the trigger.

You begin to calm down a bit but what shocks you next is that he pulls the trigger while.. smiling, you watch in shock as his body hits the ground while he bleeds out on the white sand.

You begin to frantically look around to seen any sign or trace of Elias’s figure anywhere but after a few minutes you sigh in relief, you look down at Elias’s dead body then float away.

As hours turn in to days, as days into weeks, as weeks into months, as months turn into years, you assume that Elias is fully gone, that he is in whatever paradise or purgatory that exists out there as you wander the world.

One day as your watching a solar eclipse with the living, you admire how spectacular it is and relish in its cosmic beauty, you feel a hand touch your shoulder which makes you confused but your assuming it’s nothing but then.. you hear HIS voice…

“Darlinnng~ did you miss me?”

You slowly turn around just to see Elias.. he’s gorgeous, ghastly, lavenders surrounding him, no pupils, his hair is long and lilac, wearing a silk dress. He practically looked like an mythological figure.

You finally look at him in a new way one that you would’ve never that you would ever feeling for someone..

Fear and respect.

(This took way longer than I expected 💀. But I hope you like it)

"Fanfic" YOU SENT A WHOLE BOOK MY WAY

This concept is sooo fun, as the ghost you're technically the one with the most control over the relationship. You can come anytime you want and you can go anytime you want.

But a human loving you to the point of ending his own life just to be able to touch and feel you... You no longer have an escape, he has obtained the power to go after you anytime anywhere, even if it costed him his own life.

And the said human is ELIAS, spending an eternity with him would completely break both of you it's horrifying

[enhaflixer]

Enhypen as the Bridgerton siblings!!!

wc: 1K

A/N: HI! this idea just literally came to me outtttaa nowhere! as always requests are open would love to do a proper bridgerton themed fic as well!

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 - Benedict Bridgerton

Why He’s Benedict:

Creative & rebellious. Prefers freedom over societal expectations.

Dislikes being compared to his siblings and wants to live life on his own terms.

Secretly poetic but pretends he’s not.

Wants a deep, passionate love—not a convenient one.

The sibling everyone confides in because he actually listens.

Casually roasts everyone at family dinners.

Often disappears to mysterious places just to avoid responsibilities.

Falls for someone completely unsuitable (aka a scandal waiting to happen).

Is the first to laugh at family arguments but never gets involved.

Would 100% elope just to avoid a high-society wedding.

Sibling Chaos Moment: Jay: Where were you all night? Heeseung: Finding inspiration. Sunoo: …Is that paint or a love bite? Heeseung: Wouldn’t you like to know. Jungwon: I actually wouldn’t, thanks. Jake: Wait, are you in love? Heeseung: I do not believe in such trivial emotions. Sunghoon: So why are you smiling at your phone like that? Ni-Ki: HE’S IN LOVE! THIS IS A SCANDAL!

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 - Anthony Bridgerton

Why He’s Anthony:

Overprotective of his siblings. No one is ever good enough.

Acts like love is a weakness but lowkey burns for someone in secret.

Carries the family’s reputation like it’s his personal burden.

Would personally duel someone if they break his sister’s heart.

Thinks he’s emotionally unavailable but is actually terrified of losing someone he loves.

Fakes being in control but his emotions are a mess.

The ultimate eldest sibling complex.

Thinks his word is law but is constantly ignored.

Would rather die than admit he’s jealous.

Sibling Chaos Moment : Jay: I forbid you from seeing her. Jungwon: Oh my god, Jay, you’re not my father. Sunoo: You just don’t like that she’s smarter than you. Jay: That is NOT the point! Jake: Are we sure about that? Sunghoon: She did look really elegant at the last ball. Jay: ENOUGH. She is unworthy. Jungwon: You don’t even know her! Jay: I know enough. Ni-Ki: That means she rejected his dancing offer once and now he holds a grudge. Jay: I DO NOT HOLD GRUDGES. Jungwon: Then I shall simply court her anyway. Jay: You wouldn’t dare. Jungwon: Watch me.

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧 - Colin Bridgerton

Why He’s Colin:

Falls in love with every girl he meets.

Loyal to a fault but too trusting.

Adventurous, spontaneous, and easily distracted by romance.

Would 100% get scammed while traveling.

Doesn’t realize when someone actually likes him.

Has written at least 10 love letters but hasn’t sent any of them.

Accidentally leads people on because he’s too friendly.

Absolutely convinced love is waiting for him somewhere.

Would elope with a girl after knowing her for two days.

Sibling Chaos Moment: Jake: I think I’m in love. Sunoo: Jake, no. Jungwon: How long have you known her? Jake: Three days. Sunghoon: That’s a new record. Jay: Absolutely not. You are not running away to marry someone again. Jake: …So, that means I can consider it? Jay: I will throw you into the Thames.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 - Francesca Bridgerton

Why He’s Francesca:

Rarely speaks but always knows what’s going on.

Hates social events but somehow always becomes the center of attention.

Prefers solitude but secretly craves deep connection.

Would disappear for months and come back married.

Deeply romantic but keeps it hidden.

Has an air of mystery that drives everyone insane.

Secretly a massive romantic but refuses to admit it.

The best at keeping secrets—but also the best at finding them.

Once shocked his siblings by actually participating in gossip.

Sibling Chaos Moment: Jay: Have you ever been in love? Sunghoon: No. Jake: You hesitated. Jungwon: You hesitated. Heeseung: You literally just blinked five times in a row. That’s a lie. Sunoo: Tell us who she is. Sunghoon: There is no one. Ni-Ki: Then why do you keep sneaking off to the gardens? Sunghoon: For fresh air. Jay: And why did I overhear you reciting poetry to someone? Sunghoon: I was practicing. Jake: Practicing for what? Sunghoon: …This conversation is over.

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨 - Eloise Bridgerton

Why He’s Eloise:

Knows everyone’s secrets before they do.

Speaks fluent sarcasm.

Pretends to hate romance but actually wants a dramatic love story.

Would rather be reading than dealing with society’s nonsense.

Enjoys watching the drama but acts like he’s above it.

Has accidentally started several scandals just because he was bored.

Absolutely runs the secret gossip column.

Refuses to dance at balls but somehow still gets the most attention.

Once called out a suitor so badly that they left town.

Sibling Chaos Moment: Jake: But what if she’s my true love? Sunoo: You met her yesterday. Jake: Love doesn’t have a timeline! Sunoo: What does she even do? Jake: She’s an artist! Jay: What does she paint? Jake: …Horses. Sunghoon: At least she has a passion. Sunoo: This is worse than the baker’s daughter.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧 - Daphne Bridgerton

Why He’s Daphne:

Charming, intelligent, and effortlessly respected.

Appears sweet and perfect but is secretly stubborn as hell.

Understands high society games but isn’t afraid to bend the rules.

Wants to marry for love but also wants the upper hand in the relationship.

Secretly the most intimidating sibling despite his charm.

Controls situations without anyone realizing.

Everyone thinks he’s innocent until they cross him.

Knows exactly how to get his way without being obvious.

Can make Jay lose his mind within seconds.

Would charm his way out of any scandal.

Sibling Chaos Moment: Jay: I swear if I catch you sneaking off with her again— Jungwon: Jay, please. It’s hardly sneaking if I let you see me. Heeseung: That’s actually a fair point. Jay: HE IS DECEIVING YOU ALL! Sunoo: And yet, you can’t stop him. Jake: That’s Jungwon’s superpower, really. Jay: I HATE THIS FAMILY.

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢 - Gregory Bridgerton

Why He’s Gregory:

Too smart for his own good.

Plays innocent but is actually the most cunning.

Would fake a scandal just for fun.

Loves watching the chaos unfold but never gets blamed for it.

Has dirt on everyone.

Started a fake engagement rumor about Jay just to see what would happen.

Knows all the gossip before it even reaches Sunoo.

Somehow gets away with everything.

Acts like he hates romance but will absolutely be the most dramatic when he falls in love.

Sibling Chaos Moment: Jungwon: Niki, what did you do? Niki: Me? Nothing. Sunoo: Then why is there a marriage announcement in the paper for Sunghoon and some random duchess? Sunghoon: NIKI. Niki: Oops? Jay: Why do you look proud of yourself? Niki: Because I am. Jake: What did you gain from this? Niki: Pure entertainment.

[biillys]

billy being bffs with heather cos pool and bffs with chrissy cos sports and suffering through life but thinkin well hey at least i've got my besties. but then one morning he has to drive chrissy home from a party that got a lil wilder than intended but also drive heather to work to open and the girls actually meet properly. next thing he knows they're fucking passing letters and txting and twirling their hair when they're around each other. he goes between being insufferable becos 'if it weren't for me, this [waves finger between the two of them holding hands on his backseat] wouldn't be happening. you both owe me SO big' and insufferable becos 'i regret ever introducing you two. i swear to Fuck'

[neverendingford]

.

[girlivealwaysbean]

i was praised and loved for being the most low maintenance kid in a family with three kids and now i try to make myself as small and insignificant as possible and yet

[our-lady-of-mcr]

.

[nayeoniiz]

WEBCAM PERV! (1)

pairings ❥ heeseung x fem!reader

point of view ❥ third person, omniscient

warnings ❥ mutual masturbation, cyberstalking, noncon recording

synopsis ❥ you meet heeseung on omegle and quickly hit it off until you accidentally disconnect. feeling at a loss from not being able to find him again, you give up and live life as if it never happened. unbeknownst to you, however, he turns out to be a hacker who hacked into your camera, resorting to watching your secretly from behind the screen… until he didn’t.

genre ❥ smut

word count ❥ 4.4k

taglist: @rayofsunshineeee

Webcam Perv! (2)

author’s note: sorry it took me a bit longer to release, i ended up rewriting over the whole draft. i was gonna write the full story in one go, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that i love making series. anyway i hope yall enjoy! & a reminder that my requests are open (send as an ask or submission pls do not dm me lol). go check out my other stories while you’re at it bc i have much more cooking! not proofread so don’t come for me!

y/n lay blank faced on her bed with her phone in hand. it had been hours since she’d gotten home from her classes, and now she was just scrolling mindlessly on tiktok out of boredom. her room was quiet except for the occasional hum of her heater and the everchanging audios blasting from her phone’s speakers.

she sighed, tossing her phone to the side resorting to staring at the ceiling. as the days were growing colder, y/n couldn’t help but to feel this growing sense of loneliness creeping in, like there was something missing that she couldn’t quite put her finger onㅡexcitement was the closest word she think of. she didn’t have many friends to talk to, or text, or hang out with—just her best friend natty, but the girl was currently unreachable as she had already fallen asleep after their brief phone call.

midterms were always the dryest times for y/n. after spending hours in the library, forcing far too many categories of knowledge down her throat for her own goodㅡ just to end up with barely above average scores, she was too drained to do much of anything else when she got home. but, it was hard to just sleep. she was intransigent when it came to resting after studying because she wanted to give herself the free time she’d lost instead. usually being on her phone, and rotting her brain away with the useless curated content that she handpicked for herself would suffice. but on days like thisㅡ where her studying ended close to (or in this case, after) midnight, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the dopamine she was longing for.

after a few moments of lying in a frozen state of staring off into nothing, she reached for her laptop, opening it on impulse. omegle. it had been a while since she’d used it, and honestly, it wasn’t the best idea, but she figured it might help pass the time. and maybe it’d even give her some form of human interaction, though her hopes weren’t too high given the website’s reputation. she typed “k-pop” into the category field, hoping it’d narrow down the pool to people around her age who might share at least one interest with her.

the first few chats weren’t anything special. she ran through the typical brief hellos, the awkward pauses, and of course the familiar “stranger has disconnected.” a few times, however, she was met with the sight of creepy old men who took pleasure in flashing, reacting at lightning speed to skip the chats before things could get worse. some people seemed normal at first, friendly even, but as soon as they’d start saying weird thingsㅡor worse, making noises that gave away their intentions, it’d soil her mood once again as she refreshed her tab.

after getting skipped again for the umpteenth time, y/n found herself hovering her mouse over the “new chat” button, debating. she looked at the clock in the corner of her screen, she had already wasted 30 minutes trying to find a normal human being to talk to. she was beginning to wonder if this was really a good idea to begin with. was it even worth possibly getting harassed for another half hour, in the name of being social? she weighed her options: she could either waste another 2 hours on tiktok, or go to bed. neither seemed appetizing for the hunger of connection she craved. with a sigh, she decided to try one more. and if it didn’t work out, it just meant that it was time to call it a night. she clicked to start a new chat.

stranger is typing…

stranger: hii

you: hello

stranger: m23

you: f22

stranger: cam?

you: earn it?

this one didn’t seem too bad so far, but she wasn’t going to make an early judgement. the man seemed to respect her decision as he quickly changed the conversation. they kept things light, alternating on asking each other random questions back and forth about hobbies, favorite foods, movies, shows, and music. the conversation was easy, fun even, and y/n found herself smiling a little despite the earlier frustration. it was like she was finally getting what she was looking for. with the conversation being tame, he took it as a green light to ask again.

stranger: can i see you now?

you: fine lol

y/n hesitated before turning her camera on and adjusted her hair quickly before looking at the screen. the male in her vision had a sharp, almost angelic face, with delicate features that seemed to be personally sculpted by the man above. his hair was dark and tousled, the slight messiness giving him a laid-back, calm vibe with his headset only adding character to his visual as they laid over his ears. his eyes were a captivating deep brown. they were soft and friendly, it made it hard to look away. even through the webcam, it was clear he had this undeniable charm, his steady gaze hinting that he knew the effect he had on others. the two of them stayed still, ogling each other for a bit, the stare down only being interrupted when he abruptly started typing again.

stranger is typing…

stranger: damn ur fine lol

you: thx so are you

stranger: you in korea?

you: yeah

stranger: me too

stranger is typing…

stranger: audio?

you: yk what? yeah

heeseung and y/n both go to turn on their audio. while her room was silent, disregarding the small noise coming from her room’s heater, heeseung had r&b music softly playing in the background. it only added to this boy next door vibe she was getting from him. the two of them were silent for a second before heeseung decided to break the ice by speaking first.

“hello? let me know if you can hear me.” his voice came through clearly, deep and smooth, carrying a natural warmth that drew her in without him even trying. a part of her was convinced he had to secretly be a weirdo. what was someone as attractive as him even doing on this site, yet alone at this hour? she took a breath before answering.

“hi, yeah i can hear you,” she replied, her tone a little uncertain, unsure of how to match his cool energy. she wasn’t exactly the extroverted type of person to begin with, you can only imagine how much harder it was to speak when such a captivating face was waiting for her response in real time.

heeseung only chuckled softly, the sound seamlessly exuding natural confidence. “so… i guess we finally get to talk now.”

y/n smiled at his words, her need for approval rising as she juggled through all the responses she could make to keep him engaged, “yeah, seems like it,” she responded, her voice was steady now as she tried to shake off the nervousness creeping in. 

heeseung chuckled, shifting closer to his keyboard as his fingers danced over the keys. the music in the background shifted, the beat changing just as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. his voice lowered a notch as he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. ”i’m, heeseung, by the way.”

“y/n,” she responded.

“i gotta admit,” he said, “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually turn on your mic.”

“why’s that?” she asked, an almost muted giggle escaping her lips as she twirled a strand of her hair, her fingers displaying how nervous she felt. heeseung watched her with a quiet intensity, noticing every little movement she made. the way her fingers fidgeted and how she avoided meeting his gaze through the screen.

“i don’t know,” he said, his tone lazy and nonchalant, but holding a teasing undertoneㅡ a subtle shift she didn’t quite catch onto. “guess i’m just lucky you did.” he didn’t say anything about her fidgeting, though. he didn’t need to. she seemed like the type to change her behavior once it was called out, and he was more captivated by it than he let on. there was something about her shyness, moreso the way she couldn’t quite hide it, that intrigued him. “so, what do you usually do when you’re not chatting with strangers on the internet?”

his question had caught y/n off guard for a brief moment, another nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she tugged on her shirt’s collar, adjusting it to make sure nothing was out of place though she didn’t actually need to. she didn’t know why, but something about talking to him felt different from the others. “uh, not much… if i’m not studying, i just watch tiktoks or call my friend if she’s not tired.” she replied hoping the answer sounded casual enough.

“hm, sounds like you’ve got some time to kill,” heeseung smirked, inching his chair closer to the screen. he opened a second tab, the soft clatter of his typing blending effortlessly with the mellow r&b drifting through the background.

“yeah, guess i do. life’s… kinda mundane, you know?” y/n replied sheepishly. her gaze followed his, noting the slight movement of his hands just out of view, but chucking it up to him searching for another song to play as the music shifted again. he didn’t back away from the screen this time, though. instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, unwavering.

“i get it,” heeseung replied, his voice lowering slightly, but still keeping its laidback manner, like they were just two people having an ordinary conversation. “i’m the same, but i'm more of a youtube guy, i found out about this site through a video on there.” as he spoke, his finger subtly danced across the keyboard, the screen flickering with the quiet download of her IP address. his eyes stayed on the camera, his expression open and unreadable, like he was genuinely listening to her.

“that’s interesting, this app usually has a bad rep. like, there’s only creeps on here,” y/n said, though her words seemed to be misunderstood as heeseung furrowed his brows.

“are you trying to insinuate that i’m a creep?”

her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. a stutter broke through her words. “what?! no! i’m just saying—i’ve run into a lot of them tonight before i landed on you. so i was just… i don’t know. forget i said anything.” she sulked, her face reddening with embarrassment at her failed attempt to relate. heeseung watched in awe, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, at her mannerisms, finding every one of her reactions so cute. sensing her discomfort, he smoothly shifted the topic.

“i’m kidding, y/n.” he grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. “so… what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never got around to?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying intensity to his gaze. he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he was studying her, absorbing every word she said, as if her answers would tell him everything he needed to know.

y/n paused, thinking for a moment before she answered. “probably traveling more. i feel like i’m always stuck in the same routine.”

“yeah, routines can be… limiting. but they’re also comforting, right?” he paused, his eyes flickering to a different part of his screen for just a moment before he continued. “you know, sometimes it’s those little moments, when everything feels a little too safe, that you need to shake things up.” he spoke so casually, like he was giving advice, but it sounded a bit odd to y/n. she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his words, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. regardless, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to know more. and she was always too paranoid for her own good anyway. it was probably nothing.

“i guess.”

“oh. yeah, but is that the only reason you’re on here?” heeseung’s fingers were still moving on his keyboard, the quiet clicking of the keys going unnoticed now. he wasn’t just talking anymore—he was already pulling the strings, weaving a subtle web around her, all while his words remained smooth and harmless. y/n’s lips pursed in thought, the sudden change in the atmosphere making her feel more curious than she was letting on.

“what do you mean?” she asked, confusion creeping into her tone as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. heeseung’s system, working silently in the background, had breached the security of her wifi by now, scanning through the connected devices, its main goal being to gain access to her phone.

“i mean… it’s almost 4am, saturday night. you’re a cute girl, seem kind of introverted, but you give off this vibe... like you’re looking for some fun.”

whatever dimwitted perception y/n formed of him had shattered. he was no different from any of the other men she’d encountered prior. “oh. i don’t really do… that,” she replied, a slight pout playing on her lips. she moved her mouse to hover over the skip button, but she didn’t click it. something was keeping her here. maybe it was the way he looked at her—too attractive, too confident. she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t move.

heeseung noticed her hesitation, his grin widening. “oh, neither do i,” he said in a humoring manner, brushing her reaction off as if his earlier comment didn’t mean anything. “i just had to test the waters. can you blame me though? it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl on here. you said it yourself, there’s usually only creeps on here, right?”

“yeah,” she laughed, the sound effortlessly drawn out as she got caught in the pull of his charm. any cautions she had before seemed to dissipate as she got lost in his eyes. she debated whether she should just give in—it wasn’t like they’d see each other again, right? but then, the stories about girls who made impulsive choices, and got extorted, crept into her mind. the fear of becoming just another statistic arose.

“what do you have in mind?” she asked, her words slipping out before she could think them through. her people-pleasing tendencies had kicked in, but the smile that spread across his face made her heart race. somehow, it felt good, like she was doing something right. and that made it feel worth it. rewarding, even.

“whatever you’re offering, baby,” heeseung replied smoothly, his voice dipping into an unfamiliar, alluring tone that made her body tingle. as he spoke, his hand moved subtly off-screen, clicking to start recording. the faintest smirk curled on his lips as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes burning into hers with a suggestiveness that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t before. desired. wanted.

“i don’t know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. a nervous smile played on her lips as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. her eyes darting away from the camera before flicking back to his. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”

heeseung tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening as he studied her. there was something about her naivety, the way she danced on the edge of her own boundaries, that made his pulse quicken. he decided then and there that if he wasn’t already obsessed before, he definitely was now. utterly and completely.

“well, i’m honored to be the first,” his voice dripped with seduction, but his eyes glinted with something far more sinister.

her cheeks flushed as she hesitated again, her fingers picking at the fabric of her shirt before she finally blurted, “could you maybe…” she paused, laughing softly at how ridiculous she felt to ask. “show me something, too? just to keep it fair.” her words made heeseung pause for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him, growing into full, unrestrained laughter. he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes never leaving her face.

she was truly a character—everything about her was so… adorable. her openness, her immediate trust in a complete stranger, and the impulsivity that seemed to pour out of her without a second thought. it was intoxicating. she was everything he’d been looking for, everything someone like him—a man with desires he dared not say aloud—would dream of finding. and yet, beneath his amusement, there was a darker realization. if she wasn’t careful and kept giving away pieces of herself so easily, someone would take advantage of her. someone crueler, more reckless, more dangerous than him. he couldn’t let that happen. not with anyone else at least. she was his now. and if she was going to be ruined, it would only be by him.

“would you like it better if i go first?” heeseung inquired, his voice smooth as the corners of his lips nearly curled into a restrained smirk. he watched her reaction closely, catching the way her quick, almost desperate nod betrayed her displayed excitement. it was endearing, almost painfully so. it drove him crazy. he pursed his lips, feigning contemplation, before his smile grew wider, softer. “thought so,” he murmured, his tone carrying just enough teasing warmth to make her feel both at ease. she was completely under his spell. 

he reached for his webcam, the movement slow as he decided to savor the moment. tilting it slightly, he aimed it downward, the lens capturing his relaxed posture, legs spread comfortably wide. the soft fabric of his sweatpants clung to him in just the right way, emphasizing his figure without him needing to do much at all. the unthought of confidence in his movements was enough to hold her gaze, her breath catching as the tension in the air thickened. his hands grazed over the fabric covering his length, a small hiss of relief leaving his lips as he did so. she had already gotten him painfully hard without even trying.

lifting his hips, he slides his sweats down. just enough for him to pull his cock out, an unintentional gasp falling from y/n’s lips at the sight of it. he couldn’t hide the rush of pride that surfaced at her reaction. it was a response he’d grown accustomed to from his long list of other victims on the site, but there was something about y/n that struck him differently. her wide-eyed gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words—it was enough to ignite a deeper need within him, a desire to draw her in further, to leave her completely captivated by him.

a quiet curse slipped past his lips as he stroked, his hand barely being able to wrap around its girth. his movements were meticulous, unhurried as he moved to spread his precum over the rest of his length. he leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. his dark eyes carried a silent command, the faintest nod of his head urging her to follow his lead. he didn’t have to say a word—his confidence, his control, it was all laid bare in the way he watched her, waiting to see how far she would go.

it was then that y/n realized she couldn't back out now. not that she wanted toㅡ her curiosity, mingled with the pull he had over her, kept her rooted in place. but it was starting to feel too real, the weight of the moment sinking in as she hesitated, unsure of what he was expecting. the fact that he left it up to her made it even more difficult. her mind raced as she nervously tugged at the bottom of her shirt, praying her choice would be enough to satisfy him.

heeseung's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable but intent, as though he were savoring every second of her hesitation. when she finally moved, lifting her shirt to display her breasts. her cheeks burned as she moved her hands over one, massaging and pinching her nipples. his lips twitched into the faintest smile. to her, his reaction was subtle, leaving her questioning if she'd done enough. 

but to heeseung, it was everything. to him, everything about her was intoxicating, from the nervous way she moved, to the unsure glances she gave him. he would have been satisfied just seeing her collarbone. his heart raced at the thought of how easily she gave in, how willingly vulnerable she was in front of him. it inflated his ego even more, knowing he was the first to witness this side of her.

he forced himself to keep his expression composed, though his excitement was nearly impossible to contain. the speed of his fingers absentmindedly sped up, thinking of how he’d be able to relive it again later tonight. and he’d make sure to replay every moment, over and over, obsessing over the way she unwittingly gave herself to him.“ah~ fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, unable to contain the heat growing over him. his eyes snapped shut, immediately imagining his hand to be hers. his hips bucked, as he began thrusting into his fist chasing the feeling of a body he knew now that he just had to get his hands on. tonight wasn’t going to be enough, he needed more. 

y/n didn’t know where her confidence was coming from when her free hand snaked its way down to the hem of her shorts as she pushed past them straight into her panties. she scooted into a slouch allowing herself easier access as she began rubbing on her clit, the pressure soothing its throbbing ache and sending a sweet, shocking sensation throughout her body. she couldn’t bite back the moan that slipped outㅡ the noise sounding like music to heeseung’s ears. oh how jealous he was of her hands now. being able to touch her because he couldn’t. it wasn’t enough, nowhere near it.

”look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough, making her cheeks flush as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. his gaze was full of desire, making her feel small in a way that was strangely exhilarating. she found herself wanting nothing more than to impress him. she bit her lip as she quickly moved to lower the camera, aiming it to display more of her chest and downward before returning to her prior position on the chair. it didn’t even matter to him that her shorts kept her beautiful cunt a mystery to himㅡ the whole picture was so fucking sexy. the way she was playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them, the speed of her circular motions increasing as she chased her orgasm, the way her tongue rested on her bottom lip before she bit it, the way sheㅡ

“heeseung~ oh my god.”

fuck. if he was wasn’t already stroking fast enough, he was moving at godspeed now. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. he rubbed his thumb along his tip’s slit as he kept his pace, the action leaving his hips stuttering. he was so close, and y/n was too. she couldn’t control the volume of her moans, gripping her breast like her life depended on it. “i’m gonna cum, oh my god, oh my god,” the desperation in her voice made him come undone as he bit back a loud, throaty moan. but she kept going, still chasing her climax as her moans got choked out the harder she went on herself.

just as she was about to cum, when she was almost there, her computer suddenly shut down. the screen went black without warning, leaving only an empty, lifeless void. heeseung watched as her screen flickered and then turned dark, his heart sinking in frustration. “fuck!” he swore, shooting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the blank screen. he slammed a fist on the desk in irritation before quickly ending the recording. his hands moved frantically over the keyboard, reopening his hacking program, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.

y/n didn’t even notice, her orgasm crashed over her as she felt like every nerve, and cell in her body had come undone. she kept her eyes closed as she let out a breathless sigh, regaining her composure. after a few seconds, y/n opened her eyes to see that her laptop was blank. she frantically clicked on buttons trying to turn it on, clicking the power button which only displayed a red drained battery as if to mock her further. of all times it could have decided to die, why now? the frustration and panic settled in as she realized she may never get to see him again. she didn’t have any ways to contact him, but would he even want to hear from her again? doubt clouded her mind. now there was no way of knowing. she wanted to keep talking to him, but the odds seemed slim. with a heavy sigh, she jumped up, scrambling to plug her laptop into the charger.

meanwhile, heeseung was still navigating through her information. he had closed out of omegle and now his focus was entirely on troubleshooting. he noticed her computer no longer showed up on the network, the last activity was two minutes ago. “that piece of shit must’ve died,” he grumbled under his breath. he figured now would be the time to access her phone’s camera as it would be useless trying to find her again on the website. switching servers on the program, he downloaded the data to his phone and went to lay down. he watched through the front camera on her phone, but it remained in the same spot unmoving. he was getting frustrated.

y/n had wasted almost 45 minutes skipping through hundreds of people in search of his face on omegle. but to no avail, his face never came up again. it was 6am, and she had plans with natty to go through with in the evening. as much as she didn’t want to right now, she had to sleep. oth of them, in their own way, ended up resigned to their separate fates. y/n reluctantly accepted her defeat, bitterly acknowledging that the night had slipped away. but at least for heeseung, there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he would have another chance to see her again. this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. he’d make sure of that.

Webcam Perv! (2)

[afterglowsainz]

gold rush | franco colapinto

pairing: brazilian!vet!reader x franco colapinto

summary: you were used to your boyfriend’s flirty personality, but still every now and then you couldn’t help getting jealous

fc: beca oliveira

request: here

a/n: i haven’t done a written fic in so long please bear with me 😭

—

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yourusername patients of the week 💖

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friend1 the cutest!

friend2 the way i couldn’t be a vet cause i would just be kissing them all the time

yourusername oh don’t get it twisted i am kissing them 24/7

bffusername dream job

friend3 how does it feel to live my dream 😭

francolapinto los amo😍 (i love them)

liked by yourusername, alex_albon and others

francolapinto ready for another race week 🤩

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username always with the mate

username ugh just look at him!

username didn’t expect my crush on this man to last this long

username casually serving face on the first pic

username idk how to explain this but he looks like a taylor swift song

yourusername agree

username omg girl hey 💕

—

There was no reason to be angry. No real reason, anyway. Deep down in your mind and at the core of your heart, you knew there was no way Franco was seriously flirting with anyone but you. Your heart on the other hand...

This wasn't the first time this had happened. Since joining F1, Franco had become known for his flirtatious personality and undeniable charm; it was part of who he was, and it had never really bothered you before—you knew what he was like. So why were you suddenly so upset after watching that interview everyone was talking about on Twitter?

The answer was so obvious you didn’t even want to admit it to yourself, but it was staring you right in the face. The reporter was what bothered you. It wasn’t her specifically, of course—you’d seen her a few times and knew she was the picture of professionalism, not to mention charming. But she was completely different from you. It was no secret that Franco had always liked blondes.

—

Damn. All the pieces of the puzzle fell into place with that single message.

Franco had never really stopped to think about the consequences of his actions. Of course he had seen comments online about his interviews, but he never worried about how his girlfriend might interpret them. He was simply doing his job by giving interviews to journalists. If there was someone his age he could feel relaxed around, he would do so—it was part of his personality. But he would never disrespect his girlfriend by insinuating something more. She was everything to him.

Franco quickly went to Twitter to look up the interview video he had given hours earlier. As he analyzed it, he realized how some of the things he said or the way he expressed himself could come off as insinuations on his part, and he cursed himself internally, imagining his girlfriend watching the same video.

He had to fix this, and fast.

liked by yourusername, olliebearman and others

francolapinto special gp coming 🇧🇷 (in the country of the most special person)

tagged yourusername

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username ngl i sometimes be forgetting he has a girlfriend

username THE ABSOLUTE GODDESS

username franco move i’m tryna see y/n

username the hand placement 🥺

username the power couple they are

username in love with them

yourusername okay i guess i might forgive you just this once 🙄

francolapinto i love you (only you) ❤️

[joelscurls]

I wanna show you off

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 4.1k

summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!

If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.

Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.

It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.

The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.

You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.

You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.

You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.

Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.

It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.

They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.

Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.

One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 

He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.

“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.

“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.

“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”

“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”

You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”

Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.

Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!

“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”

“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.

“You know I love you, right?” 

You sniff again. Nod. 

“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”

“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 

Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 

You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.

You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.

You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 

“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”

He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 

“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 

And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.

You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.

So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.

“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.

“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.

“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 

Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.

“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.

He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 

Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 

“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”

His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.

Yours, yours, yours. 

And nobody else’s.

“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 

“Got it.”

It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 

“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 

“Uh-”

“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”

“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 

But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.

You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.

“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 

Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.

“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”

“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 

Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 

You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 

Sheila pays you no attention.

“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”

Your vision blurs scarlet. 

Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“

“Sheila,” she reminds him. 

“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”

You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.

And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 

Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.

“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.

You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 

“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 

You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 

With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 

Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.

Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.

He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 

So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”

“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 

Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 

Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 

You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?

“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”

You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 

He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”

His belt falls to the floor with a clang.

He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.

“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.

“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 

His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 

“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.

“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 

Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 

Sheila is home. 

Perfect.

It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 

You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 

“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 

“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 

“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 

Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 

“You sure?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 

But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 

You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 

Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 

The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 

He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 

“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 

He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 

You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.

The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.

You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.

His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 

“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.

“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”

It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.

When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.

The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 

“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 

“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”

He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.

“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”

A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 

Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?

Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 

“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”

Oh my word!

Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 

The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 

If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.

“Joel, fuck-”

“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”

This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.

His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 

Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 

He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 

A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.

Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!

And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 

“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 

“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 

“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.

end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3

[buckyalpine]

Bucky comfort. What I need like air right now is a sweet, chubby baker Bucky who notices his bunny is down. She doesn't say anything out of the ordinary when she comes to visit the bakery, kissing his soft scruffy cheek before taking a seat at the booth with a fresh Danish he made.

Cherry, because that's her favorite.

He can tell something is off when her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes and she's curled up in his hoodie quietly nibbling on the pastry instead of clinging onto him like she usually does.

He doesn't like it. Not one bit.

He loves when his girl hugs his thick waist tightly from behind while his works at the dough and rolls out croissants. Her little hands usually knead at the fluff around his belly. Instead she seems to be in her own world, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and pushing herself further into her seat to hide from the rest of world. You tell him you have to run a few errands and he doesn't miss your steamy eyes and small voice as you scurry off out of the bakery and it just adds to his worry.

Bucky was having none of that.

He lets Sam and Steve take over a couple of his orders, cleaning off and deciding to go straight home to you instead, he knows you don't actually have errands to do, he always makes sure to take care of them anyway. When he arrives back home, he isn't surprised to see your smaller form curled in a ball on the couch, eyes wide, surprised to see him.

"Bucky?" the quiver in your voice gives away that you'd been crying moments earlier.

"C'mere baby bunny" Bucky cooed, scooping you up in his beefy arms, and cradling your body to his, holding you to his chest while you nuzzle into his neck. "Wanna tell me what's going on in that little head of yours" He whispered against your hair, stroking it while you pull back, giving him a shrug. He knows you don't always want to talk about it but he's going to do what he can to make you feel better

"I'm not sure" You say with a sigh, your mind still running around a thousand miles a minute. Nothing particularly bad happened but one thought led to another; questioning if you were happy with your job, if you were happy with where you were in life, if you were someone Bucky would actually even want to be with, someone so sweet and loving and handsome like him, all your friends seemed to have found their footing and you were still here so unsure-

"Shhh" he kissed your forehead as if he could hear your insecurities screaming at you from inside your head. "What do you need sweet girl" His lips brush against the top of your head, breathing in your soft scent of peach body wash and vanilla lotion. He has you perfectly tucked into his much larger form, as if he were trying to protect his baby bunny from the rest of the world.

"Cuddles?" You cling onto him, sighing contently when he shifts so he can wrap you up in his arms while you bury your face into his chest. Everything about him is so comforting, if you could find a way to burrow yourself into him, you would. Your wiggling and shifting to get even closer makes Bucky chuckle, cooing at the whine you let out when he pulls away.

"Not going anywhere bunny, just getting us more comfortable" You're not sure how he does it but with minimal effort and movement he's helped you strip off all your clothes along with his, tossing the fluffy throw to cover you both up. You love feeling his bare skin against yours, practically purring now that you can feel every bit of him.

The rumble of your stomach doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky and he makes sure to wrap you up in a blanket burrito before getting up and padding over to the kitchen.

"Where are you going now" You pout and he cups your face with the gentlest touch.

"You're hungry bub, I'm just getting a snacky" and with that he walks off, grinning at the giggle you let out watching his perfectly perky ass saunter off.

"Yummyy" You wiggle happily from under your blanket at both the sight of you very pretty, very naked boyfriend carrying in a plate of more Danishes and a bunch of other pastries and fruit he grabbed on the way out when he left the bakery.

Bucky adores seeing you like this, setting down the snacks so he can hold you again when you give him grabby arms. He doesn't let you lift a fingers, feeding you another Danish, kissing the crumbs that clung onto your lips. He runs you a bath next. His bunny doesn't feel like moving much so he's happy to carry you there while you wrap yourself around him like a koala bear.

By the end of the night he loves seeing the light return to your eyes, your soft giggles when he has you perched on the bathroom counter doing your skin care routine with him.

"Keep your little paws to yourself, doll" Bucky swats away your hands when you reach for the lotion, taking over the job for himself. He's more than happy to massage up and down your calves to your thighs. He massages all the knots out of your back and shoulders before carrying you off to bed again for more cuddles and kisses.

Anyway, this was sitting in the drafts for weeds and it's still what I need rn.

[tan1shere]

Freak

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: Oh hey ! It's tan. You know, the one who can't stick to one fucking story and never ends up finishing them anyways (I have 32 fucking drafts.) N E WAYS. I thought of this, yes another doja song. What can I say, she serves, ENJOY

Summary: you're both just as freaky.

Warnings: smut, car sex, use of daddy, riding, lowkey highkey fb billie - if there's anything else I haven't mentioned pls lmk !

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs @xxangelfarrlzxx

^comment if you want to be added^

Masterlist

Parties like these were the best, dressing up as someone unrecognizable. This theme was roaring 20s for your friends 20th. Music was fitting to the time of this era. People dressed in specific outfits. Women in the iconic dresses, men in the vest, suit. Some wearing the iconic hat. But there was one female who dressed axactly like that. "Well well. Y/n." She says with a smirk. "Billie, always one to stand out huh?" She chuckles. "Why not, kinda pisses guys off and turns women on. Win win." You look at her full outfit. It honestly was turning you on. "What women?" Her brows raise. "Plenty. Heaps." You had zero clue why but that rubbed you up the wrong way. You knew she's been out with heaps of girls.

But it just got to you. Maybe cause you haven't had a piece yet. That'll change tonight, you plan to do so. You and billie always had chemistry. Having near incidents of kissing, sometimes more. But something always happens to get in the way. You were honestly drawn to her and little did you know she was drawn to you too. "Come here alone?" You shrug at her question. "Might have. You?" She thinks for a moment. "Possibly." The tension was thick, and God you just wanted to kiss her. But you keep your cool. Thinking of some form of a plan. You notice girls looking at her. "Damn, maybe you weren't kidding." She laughs again. "Do I kid, darling?" Even her mannerisms were fitting for the theme. Was it on purpose?

"Well, maybe you should go mingle." You go to turn around but she grabs your wrist. "Hey now, what if I want to talk to you." Progress. You smile. "You do? Really?" You ask so innocently. Then she comes out with something that shocks you. "Yeah. Maybe tonight there won't be interruptions like usual." Now you were stumped. So she was known to the coincidence too. She cared... "Maybe you're right." You subtly bite your lip. "Why don't we get a head start and get out of here." Your smile returns. "Sounds like a plan."

The car ride was antagonizing. But once she'd gotten to your place it was go time. So much feeling was brewing inside the both of you. And as you reach the door, followed by your room you waste no time. Your hands reach for the hat, chucking it somewhere. Her hands move to your body, letting out a content sigh like she's finally reached her life long goal. She definitely had. Her lips go straight to your own and you practically do the same sound as she did moments ago, except it came out as a moan. She had zero idea what she was getting into with you, but you had always wanted to try this with someone. But you had zero idea how she'd react. Good thing you'd enjoy it. You had moved her on the bed, watching as she sat on her elbows.

You knew Billie was dominant with the stories she told. But she had no. Idea. Just how freaky you could be. If anything she'd have more fun with this. You go to your closet pulling out some rope casually. Her left brow raises. "What you plan on doing with that?" You say nothing, moving over her. Her hand reaches for your jaw as you sutuate the restraint. "Huh?" Your shoulders shrug. "You'll see." She was about to protest but in a blink of an eye you were already doing it. Pushing her back and tying her to the bed. "Really?" She says as you giggle. "You're a fucking menace." You shrug. "Guess you didn't know how I'd be. Did you?" She looks in your eyes. "Untie me." You contemplate. She looked a little mad. Bingo. Just what you wanted. "Mmm no, Im just getting started Bils." Your hands move to somehow get some of her clothes off.

But with the way she acted before you got a brilliant idea that popped into your head. You go for your own clothing, taking of the head piece. The gloves, your dress. Slowly you did so. Very slowly, you didn't have a bra on so she was unexpectedly blessed by the sight. "Oh God." She lets out. Seeing as all she could do was use her mouth. Use her mouth... Now she, had a brilliant idea. Seeing as you weren't going to budge anytime soon. "Come closer for me." You look at her. "Why should I." "These aren't tight enough. I'd hate to just slip out." Your slow brain doesn't process right away as you lean over. Tits right in her face. Boom. "But you didn't want to escape earlier-" You say, as you tie them tighter. Stopping with realization.

You go to move but suddenly feeling a wet pair of lips on your bud. It hardening on her tongue. You mentally stop, soon after, you move again. "You tricked me." She smirks. "Like it was hard." Oops. "No, come on. Just Untie me. Cone on baby I know you want to." The name had you considering it. But you weren't done. "Nope." This only made her rage heighten. "You're a fucking brat you know that?" She didn't even say that sexually, she was just annoyed. But you loved it. You shift slightly as the words pass her lips. Then she spots it, spots why you were doing this. So she tries again. "Want to get me all riled up huh? You like being a slut." You tried to ignore it. "Go on then, keep going and you'll find out how it ends." You still had some form of confidence. Your lips move to her neck, letting your breasts rest on her chest.

This was driving her nuts. You were so caught up in giving her a hickey, you had no clue she'd escaped. "We could flip the coin." Your brows furrow when she says that. But you knew things were fucked as soon as you felt soft hands on your naked waist. "Uh oh." She smirks maliciously. Flipping you guys so you were underneath. "Yeah, uh oh's right babe. Big fat, fucking. Uh oh." You've never seen her like this. You thought the girls she's been with were exaggerating. Definitely not the case. Your eyes go wide. "How'd you-" She tuts. "So silly. Im surprised you'd try me." A split of confidence shines through. "Yeah it was fun." She laughs. And it immediately compels you. "Cute. Very cute. You won't be saying that soon babygirl. I can promise you that." You just give into her, you're desire won over. "I'll be your slave."

Her head tilts. "That's much better. More so than earlier right?" Your breath increases as her hand slowly slides down to your underwear. "Now shut the fuck up, and let me do my thing yeah?"

Your eyes shut. "Yes daddy."

"Good girl."

I ain't afraid of a little pain.

Weeks pass from that unforgettable night. And let's just say, you and Billie had been seeing eachother on the down low, constantly. Her past flings or whatever they even were would call her. Text her. And she couldn't give a rats ass anymore. Ignoring every single one of them. You infiltrated her brain entirely. Once she had a taste she never wanted to go back. But aside from the sexual, she had asked you to go out tonight. Which you had no idea wasn't the norm for her. She was definitely swoon. She honked her horn letting you know she was here. You scurry out seeing her standing by your side. Already open for you to get in. "Wow." Was all she said. "Could say the exact thing about you." You say hopping in. She was bewildered. I mean sure she's seen you dressed up. But not like this.

The night went on, it was beautiful and peaceful. She was the sweetest, conversation was filled with laughter and meaning. When you two go to leave, heading to the car. Something shifts. All of a sudden conversation was dead. Maybe it was her hand on your thigh as she drove. Her rings clod on your skin. The chunky metal clunking together as she moves her fingers around subconsciously. Her eyes were on the road but her mind was most definitely on you. Her fingers move upwards, under your tight skirt. The pad of her index touches your lacy underwear. Her teeth grabs her bottom lip, hearing you suck in a breath. She dips her finger past the fabric, touching you. Already soaked just from the tiny action. "Fuck." She says under her breath.

Her other hand still on the wheel. She swerves into an empty parking lot swiftly. The act, oddly attractive. She moves her hand out, grabbing your waist, getting you to sit on her lap. "Couldn't wait till we got back?" You pout mockingly at her. "Oh shut up, you have no clue." You grab her face. "Then tell me." You look into her eyes so sweetly. "Fucking hell." She groans, ignoring you and immediately kissing your lips. You sink into the feeling. Molding perfectly. "Need this. Now." She breathes against your lips. You just nod in reply, getting needier. She fiddles with her belt, getting the strap out. It was red, it matched your skirt. How on earth? How'd she even know- But as you were wondering you didn't even realize your skirt was bunched and underwear to the side.

You realize when the tip prods you. "Bils." You gasp, feeling it suddenly go in. Your body rising off of her, slowly sinking down. And the moan you let out almost makes her finish on the spot. "Jesus." She moans. You ride her, but painfully slow. Hearing a sound of annoyance coming from her. You smirk, slowing down more. "God you're a little bitch." Her hands grip your waist forcefully pushing you down all the way. You whimper. You moan, so caught off guard. "That fixed you huh." Your eyes shut at the feeling, feeling full of her. "Billie-" You gasp yet again, shocked at how good this specific one felt. "Chose bigger. Just, for. You." She truly was down bad. She continues her movements, hitting spots you've never felt such pleasure from before. "Daddy I want it faster." You moan into her neck as you had just moved it there. Breathing heavily.

Her hands speed up with ease, loving how your own hips would move on her. "Fuck you're so good. Might make me cum before you do." You chuckle into her skin, moving so you're facing her again. "Them bitches you fuckin with, I know they gon need some practice." She hums. "Nobody does it like you baby." Both of your lips connect again in a heated kiss, more heated than all the other ones you shared. There was something firey about tonight. Her hand moves to grab your shirt, lifting it. "Actually get to suck these without you being a pain." You giggle. "Oh come on, I know you love it." She doesn't say a word, moving her lips to the bud. Your moans high pitched. Her other hand moves to push the seat back. Having her lay down, your own hips take control as your hands move to her shoulders.

Got me like, "Yeehaw," ride it like a horsey.

Kinda like see-saw, up and down on the D.

Her lips still sucking with intense need. Your head starts to spin as your argasm encroached. Moaning incessantly. She felt like she was in heaven, she could definitely die happy. Especially with your tits in her mouth. "Im so close Billie." You sigh out, feeling your movements getting sloppier. Her mouth retracts, moving her hands to your hips once again. Speeding you up. "Mmm, so am I." She bites her lip at the way you felt on her. She could feel your walls tighten as it get harder for her to move your body. "F-fuck!" You squeak, hadn't expected it to come out as fast as it did. The way she moved you, sends your legs to shake. Her finishing soon after, watching your face intently. Your eyes roll back.

After awhile you eventually catch your breaths. Calming down. "I had no idea you were this freaky. Pegged you to be more of the shy type." You smile as you lay on her. "Ain't ever been vanilla, honey, just wait until you get a taste." - "Think I already have." You sit up straight going close to her face. "You haven't tasted me yet though." She smirks at you. "Maybe I should do that. Right. Now."

;)

[saetiate]

i hope you find what you're looking for

☁  blade x f!reader s.mut, honkai: star rail ☁  reader is afab and goes by she/her. alpha/omega dynamics. blade helps you out during your heat, calls you “girl” “sweet girl” “baby”, consent is sexy and blade is very adamant about it. reader is jing yuan’s assistant. ☁  A/N: i cannot get sweet gentle blade off my mind after that car scene and this fic is what happened ☁ 5k words

“Watch where you’re going, miss.”

His hands fall to your waist as your back crashes against his front, attempting to blink away the frazzled state you’re in. Despite his warm hands, his touch feels like the first gulp of ice cold water on the hottest day.

Alpha, your head wants to reel. It’s sickening sweet, the way your slick pools at just a whiff of his scent.

It’s even worse when you turn around and realize who it is. Even with the mask and the sunglasses (does he really think that helps?), your heart drops.

Blade. The Stellaron Hunter who escaped from the Shackling Prison less than an hour ago.

Aeons, this really is the worst day to be getting your heat, isn’t it?

Blade immediately retracts his hands when he realizes your state. He’s been alive too many years to need to run away before his body starts reacting, but he’s still — at least partially — human. Your scent is sweet, almost needy, has his biology wanting to follow you wherever you go.

You whine at the loss of contact, your hand immediately slapping across your mouth as you come to terms with what just happened.

“I-“

“No need to apologize, it’s perfectly natural.”

This little alleyway is only used by those working with the Divine Foresight, and in the middle of a work day, nobody is walking through it. Nobody was supposed to walk through it. Maybe you should’ve figured a long lived, previously acclaimed man like him would’ve known about it and used it.

That thought would’ve been way more helpful when you were trying to track his movements earlier.

Blade’s in no rush. He hasn’t been for a long time. The time will pass anyways, after all. Elio makes no mistakes in his script, so he’s sure whatever happens here won’t affect the later situation. It’s whether you’re in the right mind state to know what’s happening, that’s his biggest concern.

“You’re-! You know rightfully, I should cuff you and bring you back to the Shackling Prison.” You try to be stern, but your core turns, causing you to buckle forward. Blade swiftly reaches across to hold you up.

“I… can help you get close to a medical bay. If your mind is still clear-“

“My mind is perfectly coherent,” you snap, and then your face immediately winces with regret. He might be a so-called criminal, but it’s not like he’s hurt you personally, and Jing Yuan strangely but oh-so-kindly asked for your understanding of him. “It only started today. My mind won’t fog until at least tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Hold up. You’re a criminal. On the run. And you want to help me get to a med bay? Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, running away?”

“All will come to be as it should.”

You roll your eyes. It’s like when Jing Yuan tells Fu Xuan that it’s “not her time” with some fancy words.

Blade rephrases. “I have nowhere to be, as of right now.”

You feel your knees threatening to buckle, wincing as your hand squeezes Blade’s shoulder tight. If it affects him, his face doesn’t show it.

“Fine. Since you’re the nicest criminal looking to be a Samaritan, please help me get home. It’s not far from here.”

~

Blade is surprisingly patient, even bothers to remove his shoes before coming into the house, gracefully placing you on your sofa.

“Thank you, wanted criminal.”

He scoffs at that, but nods politely. His sunglasses and mask are tucked somewhere away now, no need for them since you know exactly who he is.

There’s a beat of silence. He should leave. He’s done his job. But you’re an omega in distress, alone. And the worst part is, you’re not doing anything.

You’re not grabbing items to make a nest, or calling an alpha, or taking any medication. Are you waiting for him to leave? You likely would’ve said something, given your clear ability to clip back. Your scent most certainly tells him to stay, but he knows better than most what it’s like to be a prisoner to your own physical body, in more ways than one.

All you do is grip at the edge of the sofa and stare at your coffee table, like an endangered animal with nowhere to go.

Maybe it’s his biology talking, but he somehow feels like he should do something.

“Is there anything else you need?”

It’s your turn to scoff, doing your best to shake off your mind. “Wow, you really are nice.” You remove your shoes, slotting them under the couch for later. And then your eyes narrow. “Or were you just looking for a pretty little omega to fuck, hm?”

If this were any other situation, he would’ve taken this opportunity to turn on his heel and leave right out the door, but something about the situation prickles at the back of his neck.

“Is this your first time handling a heat?” He asks directly.

You wince at that, wrapping a throw blanket over yourself. “No… Is it that obvious?” You sigh, bringing your knees towards yourself and pressing them against your chest. “I’ve been on suppressants for a long time.”

Blade gives you your options sincerely. “There’s an app. For those in your predicament. Otherwise, you might want to consider a nest. If you have painkillers on you, that could help too. I’ve heard it’s not much help, but it’s better than nothing.”

You breathe. “Nest. Right.” Your eyes scatter around, holding the blanket around you tight. You look like you want to get up and then you don’t, mind volleying between thoughts and decisions that end up leaving you nowhere. Blade’s chest can’t help but tighten at how lost you look.

“May I?” he asks for permission to step further into your home.

What a criminal, you want to remark. But the way your heart is pumping both from the stress and the heat within you just has you nodding. He opens your bedroom door before walking back towards you and carefully picking you up, slowly, like he’s giving you every chance to interject. To your surprise, you let him, the omega inside of you feels like it’s almost cooing at his embrace. He places you down on the armchair in the corner, washing his hands in the bathroom before taking your blanket and bunching it up in a circular motion, propping up your pillows around it.

“Okay. This is a good start. Add things that bring you comfort around you. If you like soft toys, or something like that. If you’re up to it, it would be ideal for you to shower and get into something comfortable.”

Your scent peaks, making him turn around. Your knees are tucked close to you once more, your eyes glassy. You can feel yourself descending into something, more quickly than you realized.

“Whilst I’m still coherent… I would…” you swallow, your throat feels like you’ve drunken something sweet and forgot to drink water before falling sleep. “I would appreciate if you stayed. Since you said you’re not doing anything. Not that I’m pressuring you. Your scent is…” you feel your face get hot, but Blade just nods.

“I’ll be just outside.”

~

It’s perfectly normal.

Okay, that’s not the right word. Maybe more like, it’s perfectly natural. To ask an alpha to stay with you during your heat. There’s apps for that. That’s what Blade said, right?

The shower water beats over your skin as you lightly scrub it.

Definitely not embarrassing. Or strange. Even if he is a wanted criminal. What was it, something like 8 billion credits? Would Jing Yuan even give you that if you turned him back in?

You press the edge of your palm against your eyebrow. His scent, like the woods and bergamot and faintly of incense. The wanted posters did not do him justice.

~

Blade presses a hand to his pants the moment he closes the door.

Your scent, sweeter than any sin, the glassy look in your eyes that you were so desperately blinking away, the way you gripped him as you gasped into his touch… He is not someone who struggles with self-control, but he can’t deny the way his member hardens.

He desperately tries to think. What do omegas need again? Medication. Something soft. Water.

He hears you enter the shower, the thought of you naked passes quickly in his mind, but has him gripping your doorknob tight all the same. You said something about his scent too, didn’t you? He removes his outerwear, shuffling back into your room to place it on the armchair. Just in case.

He spots your laundry hamper on his way out your room, and forces himself to look away before he gets carried away.

~

As he places a jug of water and a couple glasses on your bedside table, you chuck your hand holding a towel into his field of vision.

He doesn’t take it, instead curiously arches an eyebrow at you.

“Okay, fine, I’ll say it, since the shower cleared my mind. I am aware that you are a big bad criminal. And we’re both aware I’m in heat. But you’ve been nice. So this is my official invitation. Stay with me during it.”

“That sounds more like a demand.”

You push the towel into his hands, and this time he takes it. “We both know you’re perfectly capable of leaving here if you wanted.” You stomp back to your nest, courtesy of the handsome man in front of you, and wrap yourself into your blankets.

“The jacket gesture was nice,” you add, “but you’ve been in the Shackling Prison. Aeon knows what’s down there. So shower, and come back here.” Maybe he’s right. This does sound like a demand. “Is this arrangement… okay with you?”

The corner of Blade’s mouth upturns just a bit, but he steels himself for what he’s about to say. “I’m one of the most dangerous men the IPC has a bounty on. You’re clearly under the influence of your heat, which means we can’t be perfectly clear of your consent.”

“My mind is clear. I’m Jing Yuan’s assistant. You might be strong, but I can take a fight too. Also…” you flush with embarassment, “I have no idea what I’m doing. You clearly know more than me, and I’m guessing I’m about to get worse. Also… Jing Yuan may have told me to be nice to you even though you’re a criminal.”

Blade laughs at that, a warm sound that hits straight to your core, your hand pressing against your stomach.

“You trust the General’s words that much?”

“There’s a lot going on right now! Just take the goddamn shower!” You chuck a pillow at him, which he catches with ease and throws back.

A closer whiff of your scent has him swallowing a noise in his throat. He rationalizes that he surely can’t leave you in the hands of a random Alpha who might take advantage of your lack of knowledge, especially not someone so close to Jing Yuan.

~

“Alphas can act more… barbaric, shall we say, the heavier an omega’s heat gets. You have to fight and say it straight if you don’t want anything, you understand?”

Maybe you should’ve thought this through a little more before, because now you certainly can’t. Blade is wearing nothing except the towel you gave him wrapped low around his waist, his muscles clear and evident, scars littering his body like streaks of comets. He’s stunning.

He watches you ogle him, sighing as he cups your face gently in his palm, forcing your gaze to his face.

“Did you hear me, girl?”

And oh, maybe that’s a mistake on his part, because the moment you make eye contact with him, his breath catches. Your lips are still slick with the water you’ve been drinking, your pupils widened and full of lust. That blank look that is clearly only thinking of him. How long has it been for Blade too, since he’s had a moment like this with someone else? Centuries? Your omega scent fills the air at the skin-to-skin contact, and it makes him feel like you’re a siren pulling him in.

He can see your mind working, doing your best to force your brain to think. “I’ll tell you. I will.”

It’s only then that Blade sits in your nest with you. He notices the way you lean into him, until your head rests against his shoulder, breathing his smoky scent in.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Blade chuckles. “My only concern is being able to control myself through this.”

You reach for him, press your face closer to his, until your noses are touching. He lets you lead, wants you to lead, so that he knows exactly what it is you want and what you’re okay with.

And you do, your mouth pressing against his, getting the first drink of what he has to offer. He thinks he could drown in you like this. His hand moves to the small of your back, his lips gentle and slow as they move against yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and then you’re pulling him in, and it’s like a dam that breaks open. He’s careful not to rest his whole weight on you, one hand propping himself up against your headboard, even as you squeeze your arms tighter. You didn’t realize heats could feel like this, having someone with you to hold as it sinks you in deeper. You bring your nose to the scent gland at his neck, kissing it lightly, and your scent that fllls the room in return has him making a noise akin to a growl as he presses his hand into your waist.

“Careful, girl,” he warns, but you don’t care. God, you don’t care. You feel your heat settling into your body deeper, slick pooling between your legs as you wrap them around his waist. You’re sure he can smell it, especially from the way he tries to still you.

“Mm, a little fast, don’t you think?” His teeth nips at your ear as your hands trail down his chest, over his back, the bumps from scarring only making it clearer to your heat-addled brain that he’s strong, a strong alpha.

“It’s your-,” your words die down before you can say them. It’s your job to keep us in check, you want to say. But your body starts to warm uncomfortably. Blade runs a hand up and down your torso, thumb pressing circles against your waist. Your eyebrows cinch together, kicking of the sheets yet wanting the comfort of them close to you.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It’s called a heat for a reason.” He kisses your cheek gently, like a lover. You chase his lips, bringing him in for another kiss.

“You don’t feel hot,” you tell him as you break away, confused. Strangely enough, Blade’s body doesn’t add to your irritating warmth. If anything, it feels like the only relief. His body is warm, but where he touches you tingles softly, staving off the heaviness.

“Mm, that’s because I’m taking care of you,” he presses a kiss to your neck, dangerously close to nipping at your scent gland, before descending down your collarbone. His hands move under your shirt, a reprieve from the sweat that’s starting to sheenson your skin. You want to beg him like he’s a god to release you from the cage your heated body has become. Instead, you remove your shirt, pulling him into you once more, his skin against yours like a reverence.

He continues to kiss at the skin he’s been given access to, one hand moving to your breast, cupping it from below and pinching at your nipple. You arch into his touch, and his mind immediately goes to the thought of you arching your back as he presses his member into you.

He wants more. He wants so, so much more.

Does he dare let himself indulge? His thoughts flitter away as you release him from the death grip your arms had him in, allowing him to descend his mouth down to your breasts, to kiss at the skin, teeth scraping lightly over a nipple, his hands skating over your stomach and to the waistband of your pants.

You’re sobbing into him now, somehow he’s skin to skin with you and it feels like it’s not nearly close enough. Your head feels full of cotton, his body and the feeling of his wet tongue lapping at you, lips wrapping around your nipple, encompassing you so fully you sometimes forget to breathe.

You tap his shoulder as he kisses down your stomach, and he looks up at you with curious eyes.

“Can’t- can’t take it,” you heave, hands stroking his hair. “Take me now,” your thighs tighten around him. “Need- I need”

“No.”

His answer is so clipped that it shocks you, and you’re almost distracted by him removing your pants from you, leaving your soft panties for his view.

“Wha- Blade,” you sigh his name, you meant for it to be a scolding, but then he’s kissing right above the waistband of your panties and you feel the air rush out of you all too delicately. “You- don’t you want-”

“This is about what you want.”

“I just told you what I want!”

“You’re not ready.” His words are almost a whisper now, voice gruff between your legs, his hair tickling the inside of your thighs as he presses his nose to your clothed core and breathes you in. God, he feels like an animal, his member hardening at just the scent of your slick. Don’t you know he’s already holding back? Don’t you know the way you’re beckoning him to give it to you now is more torture for him than it is for you?

“What? Blade, you can’t be serious.”

He grunts. “I’m serious.” His saliva coats his mouth, gripping your thighs a little tighter. “May I?”

“God, Blade, yes. Do whatever you’re gonna do since you’re not gonna-”

He relishes in the way your breath catches and the words fall out of your mouth the moment he laps his wet tongue over your clothed core. The sound you let out is a wrecked thing.

You distinctly hear a ripping sound, the material giving way against your skin and chucked somewhere behind him.

“Blade!”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he groans, and then his tongue is pressed against your folds and oh, it’s like heaven’s greatest sin, so close to the relief you so desperately want. He doesn’t sound any better, moans falling from his lips that are pressed against your core, purposefully wrapping his arms around your thighs and pressing them towards his face so he can have you all around him, your skin and scent and sweat only adding to the way he has to grind his hips into your bed.

You intertwine your fingers with his, gripping tight, and he can’t help but feel his heart lurch a little at how cute the gesture is. You know exactly who he is, but the way you’re gasping his name asking him for more, more makes him feel like less of a monster and more like a lover, your lover.

He swallows every drop of pearly wetness you afford him, his suckles over your folds slowly growing more desperate. He wants to breathe you in, drink you up, give you all he can. He settles with splitting your folds with his tongue, flicking your clit over and over again, gripping your thighs tight, and mumbling into your skin about how “you’re so pretty like this, wanna watch you make a mess on my face” between breaths.

He doesn’t have to wait long, your grip on his hand gets tighter with each lather of his wet muscle, your core tightening as you try your best to tell him that you’re close, so close.

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna give it to me?” he whispers against your skin, lips glistening as they delve back in. “Go ahead then, show me how pretty you look when you cum.”

He watches you as you cum, letting out a broken moan, your thighs pressing against the sides of his face impossibly tighter, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. You sob as your hips thrust into his face, his hands never letting yours go, tongue working you through every shock of your orgasm. He does his best to savor every drop. It’s for him, because of him, after all.

You’re shocked he’s still going when you come back to, your thrashing going from intense pleasure to overstimulation, your hands pushing against his in an attempt to get away from the way he’s still sucking on your clit.

“Too much! Blade, I’m so sensitive, it’s so much, oh, gods.”

“Mm,” he acknowledges you, but doesn’t let up, still holding your legs tight against himself. He’s not done, doesn’t want to be.

“Blade, BladeBladeBlade, I can’t, I really can’t, wha-“ Something shifts inside of you, and the feeling is like being choked, your lungs out of breath and desperately trying to take in air as the pain gives way to pleasure. Every wave feels like a drug, so quick to become putty in his hands as he drags you to another orgasm. This time it’s slower to build, but so much more intense, your body uncontrollable as it tenses harshly, gripping his hair, and you come undone on his tongue once more.

“Blade, holy, what-“ you try to catch your breath, desperate for each gulp of air you take in.

He groans in satisfaction, his grin carnivorous as he swipes his tongue over his lips, wiping the excess with the back of his hand.

“Good girl. Came so well for me, didn’t you?” His smirk is evident, canines pressing down just slightly against his tongue. He peppers kisses against your inner thigh.

“Gods, Blade. Just-“ your legs shake as you attempt to reel him in, grabbing his hand with yours, and this time he lets you, kissing you deep, his tongue grazing against the back of your teeth.

You lay your hand flat against his abs, sliding them down until your fingertips reach the towel, haphazardly pulling it off. He draws in a sharp breath at the feeling of the cool air on his member, pressing his hand down to your waist. His mind reels with just the thought of having you, the thought of his cock sliding into you, lubricated by your slick and his spit.

When he pulls his lips away from yours, you finally get to look at him, your hand wrapping around his dick as he exhales a soft ‘mm’.

You pump your hand up once, twice, before he’s taking your hand in his and putting it away.

“Blade, please. You’re so hard,” you’re sure between your legs is shiny with your slick and his spit. He doesn’t falter anymore, pressing your thighs back towards your chest, lining himself up with his cunt, gritting his teeth as the sensitive head catches against your folds.

“You’re-,” he grips your thighs a little harder, steeling himself against you. “Stay still, girl.”

“Please.”

“I’m getting there*.”*

“You’ve been teasing me for hours-”

“You’ve cum twice. Don’t make me show you what teasing really looks like.” He finally presses himself into you, a short intake of breath passes through his teeth as the head slips in. He plays with you, he has to be, sliding in and out of you, giving you just a little more each time.

You’re gripping his shoulders, pulling his body close to yours, his grunts so soft you might almost miss them if his mouth wasn’t against your ear. You’re faring no better, pressed chest to chest against him as he sinks into you.

“Oh,” you gasp, and he grunts in return, his forehead pressing against yours so he can watch and feel your every reaction. His hand grips the headboard, the wood creaks as if it’s about to give in to him, trying his damn best not to slam into you like he knows he wants to. He sheaths himself in whole, finally, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. It feels downright cruel, the way you grip around him, your pretty whines against his ear.

“Are you-”

“Please,” you beg him, because nothing has ever felt so right and you think you might die if he doesn’t give it to you.

He huffs. “You’re not gonna die, baby. I’ll give it to you.”

“Well hurry up with it or I might,” you tilt your hips up, trying to move under his weight but he’s heavy, pinning you down and yet it’s exactly what you need. He moves off of you slightly only to bring his hands behind your knees, pressing them to your chest, and there’s a moment where you’re not really sure where he’s going with this until he-

“You’re so tight,” he grunts, and then he’s slamming into you hard. “Wanted to make this easy for you, ease you in, but you just had to go and be a brat.” You think your mind bluescreens from the pleasure-pain of his cock sliding all the way out to the tip only to press back into you, ramming against your cervix with every other press of his hips against yours, your heat coiling like a serpent in your core, like the slow drip of syrup through your body.

He brings his hand down between your bodies, fingers tapping against your clit. “Taking my cock so well, aren’t you?” His voice is low and heavy, and all you can do is say his name in return. “You’re a good little omega, aren’t you baby? Good girl, good fucking girl.”

You thought he’d be quiet, but something about his cock inside of you has the words tumbling out of his mouth. You can both feel his knot starting to swell, the heat of it making him sweat, the way it widens right at the base. It makes his hips stutter, more desperate, prevents him from sliding out all the way like he was before so he fucks you faster.

“Wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Your legs are over his shoulder now, one hand running circles over your clit, the other making its way around your neck. He doesn’t choke you, doesn’t press down, only holds you there as a show of power, but something about it has you arching your back into him.

He thinks it’s dangerous, makes him feel like you belong to him.

“Wanna cum around your cock,” you whisper to him in return, and he grunts.

“Yeah?” He smirks, but it’s gentle, almost like a smile, a soft upturn at the corner of his mouth. “Been aching for an alpha’s cock inside of you, haven’t you?”

“Just yours,” you tell him, your fingernails scratching at the nape of his neck. The confession has him pressing his teeth right next to your scent gland, making a mark where you can’t hide.

“This pussy belongs to me now, then,” he says it like something between a demand and a prayer. You gasp yes into his ear as you get closer to the edge, teetering off it. “Show me how my pussy cums for me. Cum around my cock, baby. You’ve been aching for it, haven’t you?” You can feel the pulse of his knot, his adam apple jumping as he swallows, mouth dry. “Go ahead and cum for me then.”

It’s your alpha’s order, your body follows like it responds only to his demands, it feels like it’s being ripped out of you as your chest presses against his and your mind goes blank, your slick gushing around his knot. He’s only seconds behind, spilling into you with a groan, his face in your shoulder, his nose against your scent gland so he can memorize the sweetness of you right at your peak.

It’s with a deep intake of breath that you both relax. He’s careful to position his body next to yours, to make sure he doesn’t crush you, even as his cock stays inside of you, his knot still slightly swollen. He swipes your hair back, thumb tracing over your hairline as he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then presses his lips against yours for something saccharine sweet. You let him, drinking him in.

“Stay,” you tell him, and he chuckles, because it’s still more of an order than a request.

“Still got attitude,” he holds you close, rolling both of you over so you’re lying on top of him. “Not going anywhere, baby. Relax.”

“For my whole heat. Take my number too, while you’re at it.” Your words slur together, but the genuinity shows in your eyes.

“I’m a wanted criminal.” He says frankly.

“Oh yeah? Should’ve- fuck- should’ve told me that earlier. It’s almost like there’s a wanted poster on every street of you.”

“It doesn’t look like me.” He rakes a hand through your hair, his other massages the soreness in your thigh.

“Why’d Jing Yuan let you go anyways?”

“You wanna say another man’s name with my dick still inside of you?”

“Ah, sorry, so possessive. I think it’s going down now.” You lift yourself off of it slowly, and Blade watches with reverence as his seed slips out of you, milky white. He catches it on his fingers, pressing it back.

“S-Sensitive,” your nails press into his chest, and he kisses your shoulder in apology.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Can’t move.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“We just showered.”

“Just a rinse. Then I’ll add your number, okay?”

“Okay.”

[soobnny]

yellow sticker — seungmin x reader ; established relationship & happens in the universe of ‘cops and robbers’ (1.5k words)

kim seungmin, resident fuckboy turned soft boy, is on a mission to quit smoking

this was a request by @.notmyblogsblog and i loved it too much not to write it. i hope this is how u pictured it :) btw posting again bc it didn’t show up in the tags the first time

There’s a certain tone in Kim Seungmin’s voice that tells you he wants your attention. It’s partly whiny. Almost annoyed—though, only because he refuses to believe other things weigh heavier in gravity over him in your life.

“Babyyyy.” The drawl in his ‘y’s. The exasperation of his sigh. All very clear tells for the boy.

He hasn’t moved to interrupt you yet, hasn’t moved to block your line of vision and whatever the fuck picture you wanted to take, but you see him enough through your peripheral vision to see the pout of his expression.

You can only laugh. “I told you it’d be boring if you came with me, and you did anyway.”

“Is it such a crime to want to spend time with the girl I like? Besides, I like watching you. Passion looks very sexy on you.”

Well. You’d be lying if you said there was nothing you felt inside from that.

“Shut up.” You swallow, though you can sense relentless teasing from him with the way you set your camera on the desk behind you to try and avert his gaze from your heat-stricken cheeks. “Don’t you have to go now?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. “I… do. Yeah.”

“With the boys, right?”

Seungmin and his friends have this thing where they meet at specifically set times. You’d jokingly called it the Fuckboy Assembly, but stopped since the boy had expressed his distaste for the word “fuckboy”. He didn’t like the connotations anymore, didn’t feel like he deserved you if he kept at his ways before he’d met you.

And while he couldn’t get rid of his ties with that title fully, especially not from strangers who liked labelling him, he at least didn’t want it to come from you.

“Yeah.” There’s that surge of dejection in his voice.

You keep your eyes on him, the way his eyes look downcast on his phone to check for the time before looking back at you. He looks like he wants to say something. You start to feel guilt at your lack of attention to him whilst you’d practiced your shots.

“How about… you come over to my dorm later and I cook us dinner? You know, after you hangout with your friends? …If you want.”

The way he perks his head up is cute, and more so when his lips pull into a smile.

Seungmin looks at you like he needed that response, as if making sure you actually want to spend time with him too. He tries to sound suave with his response but all you hear is a giggle he fails to mask. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Then there’s a soft love tap on your cheek before he kisses it. “I’ll see you later?”

You hum. “Just knock four times so I know it’s you.”

“I’ll make up every excuse to get to you faster. I’m starting to get sick of the boys’ faces anyways.” You laugh. “See you later!”

–

“Earth to Seungmin?”

The younger boy perks up like he’s just realized what trance he had been in. “What?”

“What’s that on your jacket?” Hyunjin sounds like he’s on the verge of laughter, and the way Seungmin tilts his head down to look at it makes him look cute.

There, in the midst of his scruffed up bad boy image and the leather jacket he’s wearing is an uncharacteristic bright yellow star, just where his heart is.

All the boys lean close enough to notice the little sticker.

“(Name) gave it to me for not smoking for a week.” There is a soft smile on his lips at the memory of your eyes—the way you’d looked at him after he’d confessed he’d been a week clean of cigarettes. “Says it’s for my health. Plus, she doesn’t like the smell so I’m quitting.”

“Well, shit. He really has gone soft.”

There’s loud wolf whistles and tossing and turning coming from every direction, but it all just falls deaf on his ears. He doesn’t even care to be teased anymore, doesn’t find the reason to be defensive. All he really cares about is making you happy—only cares about the smile on your face if he’s clean for another week, and another week, and a month, and a year.

“He was probably with her earlier too. That’s why you were so late, hmmm, Seungminnie?”

“So what if I was?”

The whistles don’t stop, and certainly also not the playful shoving. Flits of moments like this with his friends are stupid, but it’s also endearing.

“Who was it that said she wasn’t even their type anyway?”

“Shut up. I lied, okay? I like her. A lot.” Seungmin shoves them back. “So stop fucking smoking in front of me because I plan on getting another sticker next week.”

“There’s just no hope for him anymore.” Changbin laughs.

“Yeah. I feel like I know everything about her, and I haven’t even met her yet.” Felix adds.

“Oh, none of you are meeting her. Absolutely not.”

“What the fuck? Why not?”

–

There’s four knocks on your door just when the clock hits 7pm, and you fumble to open the door while trying not to burn the dinner you’re cooking.

“You’re early.” You say sternly, pointing your ladle at him—almost accusing.

“I missed you, so I ditched them.”

Seungmin has no trouble admitting he’s attached. He likes being around you, even when you aren’t paying any attention to him. He likes the way you curl your lips when you concentrate, the way your eyes narrow at your viewfinder, the way you hold a smile to yourself when you take a shot you like.

He likes it even when you scold him for the smallest things.

“‘M not finished cooking dinner yet.” He sets his shoes aside, just by your shoe rack, before he moves towards the direction of the kitchen where you’d returned to after opening the door for him.

“Need any help?”

“I’d rather not burn my dorm down.”

Seungmin can’t quite see your face when you have your back turned towards him, but he can already picture the laugh-laced smile on your face.

He moves over to wrap his arms around your waist, chin rested on your shoulder as he gets himself comfortable. Your face feels ticklish to the strands of his hair, but you don’t make a move to push him away. “Missed you.”

“It’s only been 3 hours since we saw each other. You’re so dramatic.”

He hums. “How did your pictures turn up?”

Seungmin doesn’t miss the way your eyes lighten up at the question. “I got a really good shot. I think I’m gonna add it to my portfolio.”

“Yeah?” He asks, fingers toying with the ends of your shirt. “Can I see them later?”

“Really?” You pause your concentration to look at the boy, freezing from your stirring even. His head turns to the side so he can look at you better, and damn, what a sight he’s subjected to. Seungmin can’t help but coo at how adorable you look. Your eyes are little wide with something akin to childlike wonder and your smile is so genuine, and fuck, he is so in love.

“Of course.” He coos softly. You’re eye-to-eye, and it’s almost intimidating the honesty you see in his. Seungmin loves lying, considers it his pastime even, but not to you. He’s always honest with you.

“Okay.” You whisper more to yourself, turning your attention back on your cooking. He doesn’t miss the chance to pepper kisses from your ear down to your neck.

His lips feel soft against your skin.

You can’t help but drift back to when you’d first met him.

If you’d told yourself then about the compromising position you were in now, you wouldn’t have believed it true. But fuck, you’re thankful to yourself for giving him a chance, and you’re thankful to him for holding true to his words.

Here he is, bare with vulnerability and honesty, and so quiet and kind behind you, quitting the things he never thought he’d be able to just because you didn’t like them.

You know you care about Seungmin. And while maybe you aren’t in love quite just yet, you know you’re already on the way. The feelings you have for him is different than the ones you’ve felt before. Falling in love with Seungmin feels contradictingly safe. It doesn’t feel as scary as you thought, because he made it so easy for you to feel happy and secure.

There is comfort in the slowness of your relationship, in how he didn’t pressure you to feel as much as he did.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You.”

“Among other boys?”

You laugh at the familiarity of the words. You’d thrown them at him just a few months ago. “Just you, and about how much I like you.”

“Well.” He smiles. “If it makes you feel any better, I really like you too.”

You feel yourself smile back at him, even bigger than before, and Seungmin feels his heart nearly burst at the sight.

“Go set the table. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Whatever you need, baby.”

Yeah, definitely in the process of falling in love.

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 8- The REAL beloved princess

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"This is so fucking bullshit" someone says as she storms out her used to be office, this someone got fired from her job after management found out she was stealing from the company

She's frustratingly fondling with the keys of her car and drives off in a pissed off state, "What's so good about them anyway.. I was top of my class you assholes! It was just a couple hundred thousand dollars, I needed vacation money!" She yelled

What she didn't notice was the light turning red meaning all cars should stop, then she crashes and hits a teenage girl, she swerved out to run away from the scene but her frantic driving makes her hit a pole and she dies

Then she wakes up as a 9 year old girl, she wakes up as "Viviana"

She's a little socialite and influencer who bullies people poorer than her, once a scandal about her was shown after she was seen throwing her leftovers at a homeless person's head

She's the daughter of a famous whore model and an unknown dad, her mom slept with one of the guests at fashion week and had her

Life was good for Viviana, vacations, designer bags and clothes, private school

When Viviana was 10, at one of her lavish birthday parties an earthquake happened, she was about to get crushed under the debris but a screen popped up

Welcome Reader! To the favorite child au!

Your story goes as someone who lives a normal life, but then when your mother dies, you find out you're the daughter of none other than Bruce Wayne! Aka Batman, the family immediately loves you and you become the most cherished person in the Manor!

After that Viviana's life changed, she was then actively trying to poison her mother so she can start the story of her being loved

She was given missions that gave her points and superpowers as rewards,

So far she has

Super strength, Lazer eyes, and infinity bag (a bag that has whatever she needs or wants at the moment)

At first Viviana didn't want to become a vigilante like the system was telling her to be, but then the opportunity came when she was transferred to Gotham prep, there was a school shooting and her brothers were watching, of course she had to show off

She apprehended the bastards and was praised by the school

Soon she was appearing alongside the bats, She was then given a love meter by her system to see how much they loved her, so far she's at 30%

There was one problem, that one girl

(Name) Wayne.

She wasn't part of the original family!?

Then her system informed her that she was another reincarnated person, but she reincarnated as the "neglected" one

How pitiful, Viviana laughed to herself

The problem is that bitch (Name) made the family love her... She had years with them!? It wasn't fair!

They were even throwing a gala for her birthday, the last straw for Viviana was when Bruce, the man who's supposed to love her most and declare her as the favorite child, danced with the bitch he's supposed to hate!

She couldn't wait and introduced herself right then and there, it was really unfortunate that her mom had died due to the Joker's attack

Why are her brothers smiling at her!? Why are her sisters adoring her!? This wasn't how it's supposed to go! She's the beloved daughter!

Viviana vows to make that change.

The party ended abruptly and now the family find themselves in a private room

Duke leans on the sofa "So you're that protagonist vigilante right?" He looked wary of the new girl

Viviana looked shocked "How did you!?-" Duke laughed recalling a memory, he looked at (Name) "Someone once told me 'A new vigilante appears, Bruce gets a new kid, it's not rocket science' huh (Name)?"

"we'll have to verify the DNA test you handed me" Bruce coughs "Until then you'll stay in a guest room-"

"Master bedroom." Says (Name), the system informed you that his girl is another reincarnated person! You've never thought you'd meet anyone back in your old world! Maybe you and her can help each other with missions and stuff!

Everyone looks at you "What? If she does end up becoming our sister are you going to treat her like how I was first treated? Make her feel welcome" you smiled, you found out that she was reincarnated as the "beloved" one of the Bat family, and her mission is opposite to yours, make everyone love her, you'll help her with that, and maybe she'll help you too

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Bruce feels tired, he had just made you feel part of the family after years of neglect, he feels like you were finally opening up to them and now you guys can be one happy family

Then Viviana comes.

"Maybe I should just fuck infertile women", he groans, the door opens and comes in the devil "Viviana... Why are you up? It's so late?"

She smiled "I saw how stressed you were at the family meeting earlier... I made you some tea" she said, Bruce falters "How... Thoughtful of you, thank you Viviana"

Bruce smelled the aroma, a sweet scent, he doesn't like sweets but it's fine, it was from his daughter, he took a sip... He was surprised it wasn't sweet at all, it was a bit bitter with a tangy taste, it wasn't a good tea, but who is he to complain?

Reader- um I mean... Protagonist! His love meter is going up in an alarming rate! What happened?

"I told you to not mess up on what you call me..." Viviana angrily whispered, I mean, she was the protagonist, so she doesn't see a problem on why the system shouldn't call her that

Viviana relaxed in an armchair near her father's desk "You know... My tea has a special ingredient... First it's him then the others... And then the entirety of Gotham..." She whispered

But protagonist... Using a love potion to up your love meter is considered cheating... If you get caught, or the love potion wears off, we'll both get in trouble! I suggest you get their affection the natural way!

"I hope you have a goodnight Father..." Viviana smiled then left the room

Protagonist! Bruce is still a vigilante! A scary one at that, if he finds out about this your love meter might plummet!

"it won't. Don't worry, I won't let it happen" she looked at her stats

Super strength- 6/20

Lazer eyes- 8/20

"System why aren't you doing anything to make this go up!?" She growled

You're the one who's supposed to make that go up on your own! By fighting villains! With every criminal you rehabilitate or put in jail, your stats go up, so far you've only managed to out the school shooters and some muggers

"powers aren't that important anyway... What matters is that girl, who does she think she is!? She was even trying to show her influence in the family by changing their minds and making me sleep in a Master bedroom!"

She was probably only trying to help you... She's been informed of your mission by her system

"Screw that! She's just scared that I'll take her place, so she's being kind to me to make herself stay! I'm going to take everything from her, those warm gazes, the gifts... They were mine in the first place!"

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Look who I met on an outing!

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@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator