#he didn't leave i don't know what you're talking about

[salontiwon]

- 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 ִ ֶ 𓂃

[nonidol!hubby jw x fem!wifey]

࣪𓏲ּ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃

Summary: [you and jw are married, and lately you've been feeling insecure/left out cuz he's been spending so much time with him co-workers, staying late at the company and work "parties", he hasn't even slept with you in bed for a long while, it made you feel less specially bcs you're unemployed and just his housewife, your intense insecurities made you think that you're just there for his pleasure, in a heated argument he says some words that were heavy on your heart, he felt guilty and decided to take a break with you away from this world]

Warnings: unprotected sex, breeding, fingering, creampie, cock stroking, pet names? (Baby idk), insecure/paranoid reader,smoking, overstimulation, idk what else tell me if I forgot or didn't know abt something

Note: I can say this is my first (I've been writing tho) but it's my first time posting in this acc and I'm kinda embarrassed/anxious idk why, hope nobody judges and if there's any mistakes I'm willing to receive corrections and education from anyone who comes across my work, thank you.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT FOR YOUR OWN GOOD OR IMMA GENUINELY CRY.

Waiting on the couch, finally deciding to confront your husband about his insanely busy time lately, despite knowing it even before marriage that his job as an important part of that company will automatically take most of his time.

biting on your nails as your insecurities race in your head, like you're hearing another version of yourself making fun of you, look how the "sweet" husband is making you wait, he's out at work parties and god knows where, but all you can do is sit here and clean his dirt.

as the door clicks open, you sit up without a second thought, leaning on the wall at the end of the entry hall "jungwon we have to talk" you say firmly before walking back to the living room

with a loose tie and a few buttons of his shirt undone he follows you, "now? But sweetie I'm so tire-" , "jungwon I said we need to talk" you repeat, making his frustration grow slightly, "and what's so important that you're willing to take the time I should be resting in to 'talk' huh?" He says, and your sensitive heart already started beating faster, scared of not handling this discussion well.

"where are you staying till this hour this last period? Yes you'd say at work but even work won't give you the right to leave me like that!" Your voice trembles, and yes to keep strong, you thought raising your voice slightly would make you feel strong but it only fueled the fire of his frustration and exhaustion, "really?! Are you questioning my loyalty now?! You knew what you were getting into the day I knelt to propose to you!" He yells back.

"I'm not questioning your loyalty I'm just saying, whatever it is, you shouldn't have been THIS absent, it's like I'm single!" You argue.

"'it's like I'm single' my ass, darling please stop being so paranoid I'm too tired to deal with your insecurities right now" he walks to the bedroom, taking his clothes off and slipping under the blanket.

"really jungwon!! You're infuriating! Get up and let's discuss this!" You walk to bed madly throwing the blanket off his body, he sits up but with a deadly gaze this time.

"oh really now you wanna be like this huh?! Okay guess what, I didn't tell you to be here 24/7 , I wouldn't mind if you went to work anywhere and stayed all you wanted doing your job! But you can't force me to drop everything and come running to your arms because of your little insecurities probably about some stretch marks and a massive inferiority complex! You chose to be a housewife then be it! I don't have to fucking pay!" He stands up, his pillow in his hand and a blanket he grabs from the closet in the time you were frozen there, goosebumps all over your skin and tears threatening to fall. It was like a slap on the face making you feel ashamed, embarrassed, hurt and even more frustrated.

he walks down to the living room, falling easily asleep on the couch, signaling that the exhaustion he was going through wasn't as satisfying as you thought it was for him. You slip under the blanket crying yourself to sleep, feeling slightly guilty for ruining his rest, yet you feel hurt yourself.

The night then passes quietly and so are the next few days, awkwardness growing between you two, both feeling guilty but obviously his guilt was greater, he'd occasionally buy your favourite snacks and put them in the drawers without talking to you, or asking about you, above all the stress he was under, your expression that night couldn't leave his mind, how could he say such a cruel thing to such a sweet little soul, he understood your frustration because from where you saw it, it was just the surface, he only thinks about how he left his exhaustion get the best of him, he had the perfect way to gain your smile back but he still has to work on it a little more.

-

Your eyes slowly fluttering open, you feel a gentle hum, like a car's engine, and after a few blinks and checks, you finally hear

"finally awake?" You feel a big hand on your thigh waking you up completely.

"what's that..my head's spinning" you place your palms on your temples.

"you'll be fine, just lean back and take a deep breath" jungwon smiles pushing you against the back of the car cushion gently by your chest, and as minutes pass, you feel better as you get distracted by the view of the rainy weather and nature surrounding you both and running back as the car paces forward, you even forgot to ask the questions that were in your mind, with your head resting against the window, the sadness started creeping through your calm heart, you immediately start feeling frustrated again at being stuck with him in the car, "how did I get here and where are we going?!" You look at the car's clock, noticing it's 6:00 am, where the hell could he be taking you at this hour. "Do you trust me?" He asks, "jungwon answer me and stop-" he cuts you off "I said, do you trust me?!" He turns to face you just seconds before refocusing on the road, you can't help but nod, after all, an argument won't immediately kill the trust you had for him, "yes I do, so stop being ridiculous and answer my questions" you insist in a slightly annoyed tone making a reassuring smile spread across his face, even tho deep inside you, you knew it's whether a surprise or a way for him to reconnect with you, you wanted an answer.

"just relax, I'm kidnapping my wife is it illegal now?" He smiles making you scoff, you were still so frustrated, but at least seeing this side of him, now you know it really is something good for you, taking you to a restaurant or something, just before you get distracted again by the view and you find yourself out in Dreamland.

-

At the slight trembling of the car and the sounds of the wheels crashing the hard dirt rocks, you wake up again, your eyes immediately at the clock and they widen, it's now 11 am! You really slept for another five hours in such a position , you look through the window at the pine trees everywhere then look back at him.

"where are you taking me you've been driving for hours! My back is sore" just after hushing you, a wooden, modest house in the middle makes its way to your sight, making you let out a "eh?" , A wide smile you tried to suppress taking over your confused features and a slight flush of embarrassment, cuz after all, you're still hurt and frustrated.

His own face breaks into a grin, brushing your hair back to take a better look, "looks like my girl's excited" , your blush deepens and you push his hand away but gently, "stop it...tell me where we are instead"

without answering, he's stepping out of the car, rushing to the trunk under this heavy rain, he carries the bags he prepared last night, the ones you saw him preparing and thought he was leaving you before you fell into a strange slumber, while he's heading towards the front door, he stops outside the passenger's seat side, knocking at your window with one busy hand.

"afraid of rain?" He jokes, his voice muffled by the door and the sound of rain drops surrounding you, making you shake your head before opening the door and stepping out yourself.

"You look like a maniac" you take one of the lighter bags from his grip.

"oh madam mature, we used to kiss under skies like that". He smirks again, his words making your heart skip a beat at the memory.

-

With that you finally are stepping inside this house, welcomed by a warm, well tidied up place and the natural fragrance of pine trees surrounding the place outside, the sound of the heavy rain again gets muffled letting both your ears buzzing, you drop the bags in the entry and step in, looking at the modest place, old fashioned couches and handmade details, everywhere you look you'd see a frame, a vase, a rug, and it makes you feel so warm inside, it's nothing like those modern almost empty houses that look nothing like your inner soul, a fireplace at the end of the living room making you mumble

"wow..." You turn back around to face him, he was ruffling his damp hair in the little mirror by the entry and fixing it, before smiling and walking up to you, "like it?" He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, you immediately tense, you were still frustrated with him, still insecure and slightly embarrassed that this all might be just because he noticed the dilemma you were in. to play it off, you step away taking one of the discarded blankets on the couch ,that was part of the house aesthetic and you knew it, but you're too nervous to play the knowing girl, "god.. why's this here.." You whisper nervously like ‘to yourself‚ making him roll his eyes, a flush creeping to his ears at how you pulled away but he tried not to focus on it for now, but again he didn't give up , grabbing your busy hand, "let me show you the rest", you nod with a blank stare and follow him.

Walking up a few rugged stairs, it was a larger space, with two closed doors and an open one, he steps inside, "here's the kitchen" he turns to face you but you were already stunned, looking at the small fridge, the colored napkins on the counter, the small window and the colored, decorated plates, unlike the plain ones you had back at home, it was like the kitchen you always wanted, since you were a little girl even, the sight makes you squeeze his hand excitedly, and he excitedly responds by stepping out to show you more, he opens one of the closed doors, and there it was, the cozy, warm bedroom with printed walls, and a bed in the center with a soft thick mattress on it, covered with soft printed sheets and pillowcases and a thick blanket, a big window with the incredible view of the rainy weather outside, a beautiful, old fashioned wardrobe with beautiful carved details. You continue looking around in pure awe before he breaks the silence again.

"I'm going to bring the bags so we can make ourselves home"

You turned to ask but he was already walking down the stairs, you were again left with unanswered questions and a frustrating confusion.

Ignoring the awkwardness of the situation he left to do so as you continued checking the place, time passed and you two organised almost everything, showering and changing into comfortable clothes, the sky darkens and the house gets warm when he turns on the fireplace, your housewife and caring nature kicking in, heading to that kitchen of your dreams wanting to cook something, he stepped in behind you, "need help?" He asked, "of course I do, I don't know where anything is" you manage to make him chuckle, immediately start opening the drawers and closing, you two delve into the task and it turns to awkward jokes and forced giggles, you were still deeply hurt and paranoid about his love for you, and he was still thinking about how he could envelope you in his arms again.

Dinner, cleaning, joking, organising, it all passed now and it was kinda too platonic too. you're sitting alone by the fireplace with a cup of cinnamon tea in your hands, he was sitting on the couch across from you, his laptop on his lap completing the final point of his work as he said.

"drink your tea before it gets cold" , without being told twice, he folds his laptop closed and places it beside him, grabbing his mug, you kinda regret telling him that, your paranoia making you think that you're forcing him to enjoy his time with you, you zone out on the fire that's eating on the woods, minutes passing as you both sip and sip, before he immediately places his mug down.

"y/n, I'm sorry..." He breaks the silence making your heart jump with his directness, but you feel guilty for making him feel bad for doing his job, so you just go with "sorry? For what..or what exactly?" You place your own cup down.

He moves to sit beside you, "we know each other too well to act this clueless.." his voice drops to a low murmur, and there you were, realising he's right, you're both mature, adults, grown ups enough to address the elephant in the room. Or at least FINALLY cuz you told him to do so multiple times before his hurtful words, but now that he isn't busy and you're both ready, it'll be more logical.

"you're right...but jungwon, I genuinely hate feeling triggered by you doing your job, I wanna change it but...I just can't and.." hearing your voice admitting that, it almost makes his eyes tear up, as you look into his eyes and you both admire the vulnerability in each other's features, he cups your face and leans closer.

"why are you so precious?" He couldn't hold himself back anymore, his nose tracing your jaw, you squeeze your eyes shut and take a shuddering breath.

"jungwon i.." you were stopped by his burning lips against yours, you immediately melted into the kiss, despite your insecurities eating at you, don't give in, it's just for his pleasure, just for his satisfaction, but fuck, you were deprived of his touch for too long to complain.

He pulls away to look into your eyes, his cinnamon scented breath brushing against your delicate features. "Can I fuck the doubts out of your little pretty head?" He asked, and a slight, shy smile spreads across your face, he's my husband, he chose me to be his, he picked me to be his wife, you think looking at him then back at the diamond ring on your finger "do you want to?" you whisper almost shyly.

"do I want to? Do you wanna find out if I want to?" He whispers with a smiley, deep voice, one of his hands unbuckling his belt, his face nuzzling your neck to make you smile and you did despite your attempts to fight it back, your thighs squeezed together as if trying to hold back the wetness that's uncontrollably leaking out of you as well, cuz with the way his breath is brushing against your skin, and the way he was licking and kissing on your neck? You couldn't say no. All you could do is let out a whisper of "I want it..."

Now with your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, you don't even notice the way to where you're now bouncing on that bed as he threw you.

Unbuckling his belt completely and baring himself before you, he straddles you and rips your pjs top off, tracing the outline of your bra.

"so insecure for what" he whispers as if in disbelief, mostly to himself, before turning you around like you weigh nothing to unclasp your bra, throwing it across the cozy room, followed by your undies, making you shiver.

and he can finally see the ass he loves , the stretch marks he adores,his palm connecting with your ass in a hard slap, making you whimper, reminding you both of the first night after your wedding party. He gets up again, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and lifting your hips, placing it beneath you.

He turns you back to face him, smiling up at you reassuringly, his big hands on your skin, it reminds you of all the times you let yourself go with him and ended up being a satisfied little thing nestled in his arms ,you uncontrollably smile back at him.

He kneels beside your legs, lifting one to rest on his shoulder, his finger gently running along your slit, "so wet bby" he murmurs, making you hiss and squeeze your eyes shut "am I?" You whisper, before whimpers start falling outta your mouth like a broken record when you feel his finger slipping inside your desperate hole, you open your eyes to look at him, seeing him too focused, his cock rock hard against his stomach as he fingers you, a second finger was already in, curling and stroking your g-spot with ease, as if he had a perfectly defined map of your body.

His lips kissing and nipping at your inner thigh, before he sniffs deeply, "you smell like love bby.." he murmurs, one hand gripping your thigh, and the other inside your pussy as you moan and squirm on that bed enjoying yourself, all your worries and frustration is aside for the moment when you're feeling this good.

You look down at him, before your other foot moves to his cock, stroking it gently, he buries his face deeper in your soft thigh as he groans "uh...fuck..." His fingers start moving faster before he looks down at you again. The sight makes him smile even in this hot mess, you both giving pleasure to each other, like the real couple that you are.

"you like that bby? Here?" He strokes a specific spot, making your eyes water as he looks down at you, teasing yet genuinely loving you, his fingers started moving even faster overwhelming that spot, before he feels a pressure pushing his fingers out, just as he does, they were followed by a heavy flow of your waters, and this sight made him leak down your toes, "fuck...Fuck you just squirted baby.." his hot seed spilling down your foot and your essences covering his abs.

you pant, covering your face before he straddles you again, kissing your neck, "are you alright baby?" He tried to peek at your beautiful, flushed face, little did he know you were giggling shyly behind those little hands "yea..", his eyebrows furrow in light curiosity and he pulls your hands away with his "look look who just made a mess and is now giggling .." he said, trying so hard not to ravish you, he wanted to be buried deep in you RIGHT THEN AND THERE, but he has to ask, knowing how paranoid you can get afterwards.

"..can you handle intercourse right now?" He asked, gripping a fistful of your hair and dragging your head back to bite on your neck and sniff, making you know that even if you say no, he'll never stop jerking off on that bed all night long because of you, you look down at his hard cock, making you bite your lip, his hand cups your pussy , caressing your sensitive folds, coaxing you to say yes, "is this a yes? You feel that pretty pussy asking for hubby's cock baby?" He coos, You moan, letting him know that it's a damn official yes and he didn't waste any more time, immediately pushing his tip inside your cunt followed by every inch, he groans in sync with your loud moan at the sensation of finally feeling this again.

Minutes pass and you're now a flushed, moaning mess with tears running down your temples and hair tousled in the sheets, the sight only making him go feral, changing angles every two minutes, hitting deeper and scratching every itch of yours, "you're so tight...fuck and you smell like pure debauchery right now baby.." a hot, panting laugh escapes him, as he continues his thrusts, but even in this situation, your insecurities were still there, and you decided to try to make him look at you, even tho you knew he becomes an animal in heat when he's like that, but it was as if your insecurities were challenging you...you mumble weakly "babe look at me .." but all you get back is two hungry, mad eyes "shut up not now...not when your pussy is feeling this nice baby..okay?."

His gaze softens SLIGHTLY as he looks at you and remembers you're his little lovely woman who's always paranoid and insecure, before sliding his middle and ring finger inside your mouth, he loved being surrounded by your soft inner flesh squeezing him everywhere, he loves feeling possessed by your warmth and giving it back to you, your pussy immediately clench around his cock when you feel his possession of you, the fierce love and lust making you spread your legs wider looking for a fourth orgasm when you feel your pussy getting this slippery, and when he sees the sight in front of him, his eyes almost pop out of his head, your legs wide open, your face flushed and tears all over it, hair in the sheets and your breasts bouncing.

the thought that his thrusts can't get stronger already gets forgotten when he starts fucking you senseless, the bed creaking and skin slapping and here is when your screams couldn't be held back anymore, you grip the sheets in your hands and scream his name nonstop "won... please don't stop..." Your voice making him grip your waist tighter, fucking you fast and hard , the strokes making you feel like your walls are about to explode due to the thick pressure pushing them apart , he reaches out, rubbing your clit, his gaze on his bulge beneath the skin of your lower abdomen.

you start gasping for air when the familiar lightness of your hips starts taking over you making you grind against him, your eyes rolling back as you let out a choked moan, your walls yet again squeezing his dick inside you, and this was all he needed to let go, his hips jerking deep inside you as he groans, his head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut, his hot seed planted deep in your precious inside as he gives a few more thrusts riding out your orgasms. You thought he'd stop now, but the thrusts to calm his twitching dick down only seemed to arouse him again, he didn't stop, and there you were overstimulated and still taking his cock like the good wife that you are, more tears spilling down but your worn out expression only makes him go insane.

His hands grip your breasts making you gasp, it was satisfying, even when you thought you can't cum a fifth time, he continues fucking you madly, there was another hole in the back, but he always thought why would he use it when your puffy tight cunt is there?

Sweat forming on his whole body as he fucks you like a psychopath, you look at him with your completely wrecked expression and it melts your heart seeing obsessed he looks right now, you'll never stop him, even when his thumbs spread your folds to look at his length getting sucked inside then harshly pulling back out, he hisses at the sight, eyes fixated in there and as he starts rolling his hips sensually you knew he was in the verge of filling you up again, you start tightening your cervix muscles, making him roar "uhhh just like that...fuck that ..." He smacks your clit making you whimper just when he buries himself to the hilt, throbbing his hot seed yet again deep inside you, he's now with both elbows on each side of your head, giving the last thrusts to feel the best of his orgasm before he finally collapses on top of you, sticky with sweat and his softened member inside you.

after catching his breath, he rolls off of you, pulling out making you both wince at the light stroke of your two overstimulated privates, he looks down watching his cum leaking out of you and falling on the towel beneath you, before he lights a cigarette as you both stare at the ceiling, the smoke coming out of his mouth, giving you that familiar atmosphere after every sex session, and the silence after that sex with so many unspoken things left you two in confusion, he looks over at you before whispering in a hoarse voice "c'mere" pulling you with one arm around your bare waist easily, you automatically rest your head on his chest, you hand on his abs as he continues smoking his cigarette for minutes.

After it's all burnt, he sits up resting your head on the pillow, crashing his cigarette off in the ashtray on the nightstand, he surprises you by kissing your lower tummy "you were such a good girl for me" he whispered making your tired self smile, brushing your legs against one another despite the discomfort in between them, you stay there drowning in your thoughts again when he heads to the bathroom, wetting a towel with warm water before walking back to you, parting your legs with caring hands and cleaning up the mess, without forgetting to take the towel that's soaked in your fluids from beneath you, heading back to the bathroom yet again, you hear him washing things and moving around, when he steps back into the room, he heads towards the wardrobe slipping in one of his boxers and grabbing one light, silk nightie for you, he helps you into it and kisses your neck softly "are you tired baby?" He asked as you nodded, he gets under the blanket seeking warmth when your bodies come down from the high and processes the chill weather, pulling you with him, letting you rest your head on his chest again as he caressed your scalp and shoulders.

meanwhile, you were fighting sleep there, the only thing stopping you was your doubts, and you finally look up at him,after all this vulnerability and connection, you can't keep being so bitchy about it, "jungwon" catching his attention "hm?" He looks down at you, before you blurt out:

"do you look at me sometimes and wish I was more.... sophisticated? More...into serious, important society? Like.. employed and all?" You look away feeling ashamed of your way of thinking and the fact that his hurtful words from that heated argument actually did have an impact on you.

he shakes his head.

"babe, I know I said some hurtful things and used your insecurities against you, I feel like a bastard for doing so I swear..." He looks into your eyes, leaning dangerously close that your noses are touching before he whispers again "you're as serious and as important as any other human being on this earth ..and even more for me" he kisses your lips gently, leaving a faint taste of cinnamon and cigarettes before whispering again with one hand buried in your hair locks and the other pulling the nightie's strap off your shoulder to caress it:

"you keep that house a home for me, you make me laugh and ease my burdens..you even blow your back cleaning and cooking...and if it wasn't you making me feel alive...god..I don't know how I could've survived every obstacle that has ever came my way baby"

You nuzzle his nose sensually, your vulnerability taking over you as your whispers shake

"I'm sorry for doubling your stress Hun.."

He captures your lips in a deep kiss, sucking your lips into his every time the kiss was about to break, but it eventually does as you both pant, he lets out a breathy chuckle.

"god, many women at work say they wish they were housewives and creating families, I'll never understand women" he laughs, making you smack his chest gently "shut up won you know nothing" you whine tiredly, he smiles tenderly looking at you.

"oh babe I know everything, I know what's going on inside that little head of yours, I know what you love, I know the exact same house you dream of spending a few weeks with me in" he winks as realization hits you like a truck, it was it, the place you always wrote about in your notes, the simple old fashioned house with simple decorations and a fireplace, the cozy bedroom and the painting of the girl by the river that was exactly facing the bed.

you gasp softly and look up at him "no you didn't..." You whisper in disbelief, feeling guilty for all the times you hated how he's always busy, before he cuts you off "yes I did, those nights out, those busy days were all for working on this..." He knocks on your head gently "little dream haven of yours, woman" you immediately hug him tightly,

"I love you I love you I love you" he hugs back "pull away you smell like sex.." he teases along while burying his face on your neck and hugging you tightly against him "ugh go away, go away you little beautiful woman.." he laughs and you do as well.

"sometimes I can't believe you're a grown man, doing things such as putting snacks somewhere and disappearing like santa.." you laugh at him.

"oh shut up, we both know we both have high ego, just imagine after that argument i give you a packet of candies and be like here's your favourite , woman, you'd put it up my ass" he looks at you, his smile softening "but I managed to make you sleep deeply with the last bottle of chocolate milk, you were drinking like a child being all grumpy about me packing 'my bags' , not knowing I was actually planning to kidnap you" he makes you both giggle, continuing the lazy banter in the sheets.

joking for minutes before sleep steals both your minds, the comfort in each other's arms even making you oversleep the next day, cuz your mind and his, had finally found the answer to everything, and you finally feel worthy again.

@twiishaa @slut4hee @stvrrylove @nodoubtily @nanahachi3 @enhard @onlygarden @kikidoul

[levanterhaze]

GAMEBOY — BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader this one is just pure angst and drama, no smut, just teasing each other like two idiots.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i had to continue this fic in a 2nd part, i felt necessary. maybe i'll continue it in a few more chapters (PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME) and thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has commented and appreciated this piece. it means a lot to a person who is non-native english wrt. without further ado, have a good read, loves!

♡ [part one]

you’re so indecisive of what I’m saying tryna catch the beat, make up your heart don't know if you're happy or complaining don't want for us to end, where do I start?

The pounding in your head was a testament to last night’s choices. Aspirin was non-negotiable. You could hear Eunji and Sohee's voices from the living room and were surprised that both of them were already awake after their all-nighter.

After leaving the room with Bangchan—because, of course, that happened—you ducked into the bathroom, shot off a text about vomiting and existential regret, and decided to make a graceful exit. Well, as graceful as one could manage after wild sex with the person you’d sworn to hate forever. Pride was nowhere in the equation, but who cared?

As soon as your eyes saw daylight, Eunji and Sohee looked at you judgmentally. You froze in your tracks, still wearing pink Hello Kitty jammies like a monument to your shame. Their judgment was immediate, sharp as a blade. Your heart sped up.

“You’re alive,” Sohee deadpanned, taking a bite of a cinnamon roll. “And looking like shit.”

“Appreciate it,” you shot back, throwing yourself into a chair. “Really warms the soul.”

Eunji’s smoothie slurp was unnecessarily loud, drilling straight into your skull. “We thought about waking you for breakfast but figured you’d need the recovery time.”

You dismissed the idea with a hand wave. "That's okay. Wouldn’t have gotten up anyway.”

"We can have lunch together, if you like. I really need a detox after last night." Sohee curled her lips into a grimace and you almost smiled. Detox advice from Sohee was peak irony.

But then Eunji, ever the chaos-bringer, dropped the bomb. “Oh my God, you guys, I heard the craziest thing last night! Jiwoon—my lit classmate—said he walked in on someone having super loud sex at the party. Guess who it was? Bangchan!”

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

Silence remained and Sohee raised her eyebrows at Eunji.

“Apparently, the guy is a structural hazard,” Sohee chimed in, amused. “Minho said he once broke a floorboard. Who even does that?” Your red-haired friend says giggling.

Eunji giggled. “The girl’s lucky. If Bangchan wrecked me, I’d consider it an honor.”

You summoned your most convincing disdain, rolling your eyes with the energy of someone deeply unimpressed. “Honestly, can we not make him sound like some sort of deity?”

But guilt clung to you like a second skin, mingling with vivid flashes of last night—the furniture banging against the wall, Bangchan’s muscles taut as he tried to steady it. The memory burned, searing and humiliating, until Eunji’s voice yanked you back to reality.

The memory faded like mist when Eunji said it again. "Anyway, the girl’s lucky. I wish I was knocked down by Bangchan."

Lucky. That’s what they’d call you if they knew. Lucky—and a traitor to everything you’d loudly professed about hating him. They didn’t know it was you, and you intended to keep it that way.

From the tone of the chat, Jiwoon didn't see who was in the room with Bangchan, which means he didn't know you were the girl. Trying to ignore the talking and the sweat growing on your hands, you got up and declared that you were going to take a shower and maybe run some laps around the athletics track, because you really needed some fresh air.

The dorm felt claustrophobic. Eunji and Sohee were your best friends and you felt awful for not telling them the truth.

These were your best friends, but the truth felt like a grenade you couldn’t risk dropping. For months, you’d built your personality around despising Bangchan, and now? One night had unraveled it all.

Worst of all? You couldn’t stop replaying every second of it—and how much you’d loved it.

Sex had always been an exercise in mediocrity. Your exes? Predictably average, hitting the bare minimum on their way to their own finish line. As for finding the clitoris? Let’s just say they navigated like someone using a map upside down—an unsurprising disappointment every single time.

Now, though, Bangchan was something else entirely. A campus legend with a reputation as vast as it was unshakable. Everyone knew about his conquests—more women than you had fingers to count. Every rumor you’d rolled your eyes at turned out to be painfully, thrillingly true. He was better than anything you could have imagined.

Even after a long shower, his touch lingered, like phantom fingerprints etched into your skin. You could still feel him, every moment replaying in a maddening loop. No one had ever made you come twice in one night. No one. That fact alone made him unforgettable—and insufferably smug, no doubt.

Pulling on comfortable clothes, you grabbed a bag, stuffed in some essentials, and checked your phone. The group chat was overflowing with photos and messages from last night’s chaos, but you scrolled past all of it. There was only one person you needed right now.

You: Up for a morning run?

The reply came in under two minutes.

Hyunjin: It’s two in the afternoon. You: Morning for me. Hyunjin: Fine. Be there in five.

You tossed your phone into your bag and took a deep breath. A run was exactly what you needed—to burn off this restless energy and, hopefully, forget how guilty you felt.

You found Hyunjin on the running track near the outdoor field, surrounded by lush greenery and bursts of flowers the campus meticulously maintained. He looked effortlessly good, of course—baggy clothes hanging just right, dark hair falling over his face like it had been styled by the gods.

You started running side by side, silence settling between you. It was comfortable but heavy, like a bubble that needed popping. The kiss was the unspoken elephant on the track, but Hyunjin, ever observant, didn’t push. Not yet.

The day was crisp, the kind of weather that made you feel invincible. You poured your focus into your pace, and before you knew it, you’d pulled ahead. “Okay, okay—hold up,” Hyunjin called, his voice carrying just enough humor to make you smirk.

You stopped a few strides ahead, spinning on your heel to face him. He sauntered toward you, not even winded, like running was merely a mild inconvenience.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, his tone playful but probing.

“There’s nothing to tell,” you countered, already feeling your resolve falter.

“Uh-huh.” He stopped in front of you, his gaze narrowing. “Then why, exactly, did you ask me to kiss you last night?”

Well. There it was. No escaping now.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool as you grabbed the water bottle from your bag. “I was... needy, I guess.”

Hyunjin raised a brow, crossing his arms like he wasn’t buying it. “Needy, huh?”

“Look,” you said, exhaling sharply, “I’m sorry if it made things weird. You’re my best friend, and the last thing I want is for that to get messed up.”

“Relax,” he said, grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. “A kiss isn’t going to scare me off. You’re stuck with me.”

His easy laugh melted some of your tension, but before you could respond, he clapped his hands together with mock seriousness. “Tell you what—first one to the other side of campus owes the winner a banana milk.”

The sudden challenge caught you off guard, and you raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, already turning on his heel to start jogging backward. “Unless you’re too scared.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you bolted after him. “You’re so on.”

You lost the run, but of course, Hyunjin still paid for the drink. That summed him up as a friend.

After he dashed off to rehearse with Felix—because apparently, everyone else was rehearsing but you—a thought hit you like a lightbulb flickering to life. Rumors? Easy to spread. But if you wanted to get ahead of them, you had to go straight to the source.

With a mission in mind, you swaggered toward the gym where the basketball team was practicing. It wasn’t exactly classified info—every girl on campus could probably tell you when and where their training sessions were. You zipped your jacket up to your chin like it was some sort of emotional armor, grabbed your water bottle for moral support, and marched down the corridors. The door to the gym was already cracked open, and as you pushed it, everything seemed to slow down in the most dramatic way.

The guys were running drills, their shoes squeaking on the court like a broken record. The noise grated on your nerves, but you weren’t here for the sound; you were here for the spectacle. The stands were dotted with girls, some wrapped up in their player-boyfriend fantasies, while others... Well, who knows what they were thinking. You didn’t care. You had your eyes on the real prize today.

There he was, standing out like a sore thumb. His black and white uniform somehow looked too good on him. Focus, girl. You hid behind the staircase, crouched like a sneaky little spy, waiting for the game to wrap up.

It took nearly ten minutes, but eventually, the whistle blew. You adjusted your posture, trying to act casual, though you were definitely still paying attention to how the sweat trickled down Bangchan's forehead. It brought you war flashbacks. When the players scattered to grab towels and water, you took your cue to appear from behind the bleachers, giving a quick, awkward wave before ducking back again.

Bangchan's eyes scanned the area, and when they landed on you, his brows shot up in surprise.  In the meantime, he did the inevitable: he took off his shirt and used it to get dry. Great. Just great.

"Did you come to watch?" He smirked, that cocky grin of his. "Didn't know you were into basketball."

You rolled your eyes. His ability to flirt in every situation was almost impressive.

"Ha-ha. No." You sucked in a breath, desperately trying to obey your brain's commands. Don't look down. Don’t you dare look down. "Actually, I came to ask for a favor."

He leaned against the wall, eyebrow quirked, looking amused. "Okay...?"

���Right. I want what happened yesterday to stay a secret.”

Bangchan's eyebrow arched higher, an expression of entertained disbelief crossing his face. He crossed his arms, flexing those muscles in a way that made the mission of not looking at them impossible.

“'You think I'm going around saying we fucked?"

You roll your eyes, frustration building up, and clench your hand into a fist. Sure, say it louder, let the world know.

“Isn't that exactly what you do? Brag about your sexual life?”

The boy nodded, puffing out his chest, he shot back. "Ever heard me brag about it?"

“I don't need to hear it from you. The campus does it for you.” It was infuriating how this worked out. Everyone thought Bangchan was the type of guy, praising his victories and glorifying him every time he got between some girl's pants. 

Meanwhile, girls were severely censured for even kissing a guy at a party.

"Right. So you're just going off what people say about me?" His tone was challenging, like he couldn’t care less.

In a long drawn-out sigh, you fidgeted with your hands, intending to put the matter to one side. "Can you just keep this between us? I don't want anyone to know."

"Whatever, it's no big deal," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "If it's that important to you."

The words stung more than they should have. It wasn’t just the lack of care, it was the way he made it sound like it didn’t matter. No big deal. It hurt your pride, even if you didn’t mean it to. But that was Bangchan, wasn’t it? Haughty and self-righteous. Yeah, he was great in bed, but his attitude? Utterly shitty.

“Thanks.” You said it briefly, biting down your pride and leaving the scene as fast as you could. Speaking to him seemed like a fool's errand, but you couldn't risk it.

Behind you, Bangchan pursed his lips into a thin line, watching you go. To him, you were hopeless—always on guard, never letting your walls down. He knew he was right, even if it was a thin line. Sure, it was fun to rile you up, but it was maddening that you hated him for things he hadn’t even done.

Getting you to change your mind, though? That was the challenge. But if that’s what it took, he was more than willing to play the long game.

Early next week. Only Tuesday, and auditions loomed just a day away. You’d been agonizing over the perfect solo—one that wouldn’t just get you a role but the role. Monday was a blur of brainstorming with Hyunjin and Seungmin, your trusted theater comrades. Between swapping notes, debating song choices, and plenty of eye rolls, you managed to help each other refine your audition pieces. It was productive. Chaotic, but productive.

Your last hour of the day belonged to the theater, and it was sacred. The stage wasn’t just a place; it was a state of mind. The second the music hit, the world faded. Bills, homework, exes who ghosted you—it all melted away. Up there, you weren’t just alive; you were electric. It wasn’t just a hobby; it was instinct.

Your mom used to say you were born for the stage. She loved telling the story of how, as a kid, you’d belt out The Little Mermaid soundtrack so often the neighbors probably debated filing a noise complaint. Singing “Part of Your World” at the top of your lungs? A daily ritual. But the first time you sang for real—no plastic microphone, no stuffed animal audience—it clicked.

This was more than a passion. It was home.

Since high school, your hunger for the stage—and the spotlight—was insatiable. If there was a club, you wanted in. University was no different. People noticed you, not just for your knack for hitting sharp, glass-shattering high notes, but for your versatility. You could slip from sweet soprano to soulful belter faster than a drama major running late to class. On stage, you were magnetic.

Everyone gathered on stage, and Mrs. Baek appeared a few moments later with her round glasses and wavy hair around her face. Her figure was solid and powerful, as was her voice and knowledge.

But today, something was off. The crease on her forehead gave her away before she said a word. It was like a ripple of unease spread across the stage, and you didn’t miss a beat. You were already bracing for the bad news.

Then, a slim figure in a long skirt and boots strode into the center of the circle, sighing like she’d just carried the weight of the world—and maybe she had. “Okay, kids. Listen up.” Every pair of eyes locked onto her as if she were delivering the prophecy of doom. “We’re postponing the auditions. Indefinitely.”

Her announcement hit like a gut punch, and the stage erupted into chaos. Whispers turned to complaints, and complaints turned to full-blown outrage. Seungmin cast a skeptical glance at Mrs. Baek, then at you and Hyunjin, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

What the hell was going on?

“All right, settle down,” Mrs. Baek said, slipping her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose with that practiced mix of authority and exhaustion only she could pull off. “Jun-ho, our sound engineer, has officially dropped out of college. And to make matters worse, the university has decided to cut funding for the theater department in favor of... sports.”

“You're shitting me.” Nahee’s voice sliced through the commotion like a whip. She quickly caught herself, mumbling, “Sorry... but seriously—”

“That’s so unfair!” another voice chimed in from the back, frustration rippling through the group like a shockwave. “Basketball and soccer aren’t the only things this university has going for it.”

“I get it, kids. Believe me, I tried.” Mrs. Baek’s tone softened, but her words were anything but comforting. “I went to the administration, pleaded our case... But unless we can find enough volunteers and funding, I’m afraid auditions are canceled. Indefinitely.”

It felt like a cruel joke. The theater had always been your sanctuary, the one place where you could shed your armor and just be. And now? It was slipping through your fingers.

When Mrs. Baek dismissed the group, some students stormed out in anger, others lingered, trying to process what had just happened. For you, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, the next logical step was the canteen. Food couldn’t fix this, but it was something.

“This is absurd. Now we're all supposed to close our eyes and applaud this nonsense?” Seungmin boomed as the three of you walked to the canteen. It was packed every day, regardless of the time of the day.

At a table outside, you spotted Sohee and Minho. Eunji, Changbin, Felix and Bangchan.

Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse...

“Tell me about it, I'm so pissed off!” Everyone looked at you, hearing loud and clear about your discontent. All three of you pulled up a chair and you sat down facing Changbin.

“Someone's jumpy.” Sohee leaned across the table. “What's wrong? You three look like shit.”

“It turns out the university cut the theater’s funding in favor of sports.” Your voice was sharp, and your glare shot directly at Bangchan, who was busy texting like the world wasn’t crumbling around him. He looked up, one eyebrow raised in confusion, as if you’d just accused him of single-handedly ruining the arts.

You looked away, rage bubbling in your veins.

“That sucks.” Felix shot back with a supportive smile. “I know how important the theater is to you guys.”

“Everyone’s been working so hard,” Seungmin muttered, sinking into his chair like the weight of the news had finally crushed him. “It’s just... unfair.”

A heavy silence settled over the table, broken only by the sound of Bangchan’s nails tapping on his phone screen. You glanced his way, the sight of him completely disengaged making your blood boil.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Eunji twisted her lips, hopeful.

“Car wash?” Changbin suggested with a mischievous grin. “Classic fundraiser, right?”

“Sure,” you shot back, deadpan, “let’s exploit women for the sake of art.” Your glare could’ve leveled him then and there. Changbin leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, fine. What about food?” Sohee jumped in, glancing at Minho for support. “Muffins, cupcakes, something simple. People love that stuff.”

Hyunjin's face lights up like a light bulb. “Felix makes brownies. Amazing brownies.”

Felix smirked, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I don’t wanna brag, but they’re basically legendary.”

“Alright, then.” Changbin grinned, pointing a finger gun between Felix and you. “You two make the brownies. And we,” he motioned to himself and Bangchan, “sell them.”

You and Bangchan exchange glances for a millisecond.

“I’ve got the perfect idea,”  he says, a wicked smile slipping from his lips.

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “What? Are you going to sell brownies naked around campus?”

The grin widened, and that’s when you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Felix had assured you he could handle everything, but your stubbornness wouldn’t let you sit this one out. If it was for the theater, you were all in. He handed over his famous brownie recipe like it was a national secret.

So, on Thursday, you got hands-on. Literally.

Eunji had come through with the shopping, and soon your dorm looked like a war zone—chocolate smudges on the counters, flour dusting the floor, and batter splattered in places you couldn’t quite explain. You only had a cramped space and a big dream of pulling this off.

You were just pouring the batter into a pan when a sharp knock at the door startled you. Wiping your hands on your skirt, you swung it open, expecting maybe Eunji or Hyunjin. Instead, there stood Bangchan, leaning casually against the door frame like he had nowhere else to be.

“Uh… hello?” You blinked, your brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Bangchan stood back for a second, observing how exceptionally good you looked.

“So… newsflash,” he started, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You might wanna double that recipe.”

Confusion flashed across your eyes. “What do you mean?”

He straightened up, clearly enjoying your puzzled reaction. “I may have the entire basketball team to help out with the sale.”

Your jaw dropped as his words sank in. “You what?”

His grin widened at your disbelief. “You heard me. More hands, more sales. I figured we could use the hype.”

It was insane. But it was also brilliant. A rush of excitement shot through you, lighting up your face. “That’s… that’s fantastic!” you blurted, beaming before instinctively biting your lip to rein in your enthusiasm.

Bangchan tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “Thought you’d like that.”

“Oh, shit. I'll tell Felix, we're going to need an extra oven.” You walked over to the coffee table, where your phone was.

Before you could dial, Bangchan’s voice cut through your focus. “You shouldn’t go there.” He was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression surprisingly earnest. “It’s a mess. Like, biohazard-level chaos.” You lose heart, trying to think of another alternative. “You can use my dorm. If you want.” He quickly adds the last sentence.

Your stomach dropped at the suggestion. The idea of stepping into Bangchan’s dorm felt like walking into enemy territory. Risky. Dangerous. Not worth the potential fallout. “It’s fine,” you said, waving him off. “I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.”

But Bangchan leaned against the doorframe, his smirk resurfacing. “You sure? There are a lot of brownies to bake, and I don’t think you’ve got all night.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. Time was slipping through your fingers like sand, and with the entire basketball team now involved, efficiency was critical. “Fine,” you muttered, hating the way the word tasted in your mouth. “But only if you help.”

“You don't have to ask twice.”

It turned out Bangchan’s “help” involved more than just offering his kitchen. He insisted on carrying every utensil, baking sheet, and ingredient across campus himself, as though showing off how capable he was. By the time you arrived at his so-called dorm, you’d pieced together another puzzle about him.

Rich, but not obnoxiously so. Still, his “dorm” was more like a chic little apartment, complete with a full kitchen, two bedrooms, and sleek decor that screamed privilege. The space was annoyingly Bangchan—polished, put together, and just distant enough to be intriguing.

“Cool place.” You muttered after he closed the door behind you. Scanning the room and trying not to sound impressed.

“Thanks.” he gave you a smile. “So, this is the kitchen.” He motioned to a modern setup that looked like it belonged in a Food Network show. Top class stuff. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” you replied, slipping your hands into your pockets. “Not just for the space but… you know, for helping.”

It was obvious that he was making this effort because the theater was important to his friends Seungmin and Hyunjin. Why else would he do all this? Still, you appreciated it.

His lips twitched into a grin. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back the retort bubbling at your tongue. Play nice. He’s helping. 

“Relax,” he added, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just kidding. There’s booze in the fridge, by the way. Help yourself.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you said, sidestepping the offer.

“I’ve gotta sort something out with the coach,” he said, grabbing his phone. “I’ll be back in 20. Think you’ll survive here alone?”

Honestly, being in his apartment without him sounded like the best possible scenario. You gave a small nod. “Yeah, no worries.”

With that, he left, and the door clicked shut behind him. You exhaled, a long breath that carried the weight of the past few days. Now you were in enemy territory, surrounded by his world, and somehow, that felt far more personal than it should.

How had this become your life? Baking brownies in Bangchan’s kitchen? It was almost as absurd as sleeping with him—a mistake you’d promised yourself you’d never make. But here you were, crossing one forbidden line after another.

You weren’t exactly a disaster in the kitchen, but you weren’t a pro either. Somehow, though, in thirty minutes flat, four trays of brownies were baking away in Bangchan’s fancy oven. The rest of the kitchen, however, looked like a war zone. Eggshells piled in the sink. Flour scattered across the floor. Chocolate batter smeared on your shirt. Your skirt? A masterpiece of handprints from raw dough. But hey, it was all for the sake of art—and funding.

While you whisked and poured, you couldn’t resist turning on your favorite song, What Is This Feeling from Wicked. Singing along word for word, you hit every high note with a grin. That song had landed you the role of Glinda in high school, and the nostalgia hit you square in the chest. Those were good times. Simpler times.

The chorus was still ringing in your ears as you crouched to scrub a stubborn chocolate stain on the floor. That’s when the door swung open, and Bangchan walked in, freezing mid-step as he surveyed the chaos.

“Holy shit. Are you all right?” he asked, his tone somewhere between amusement and genuine concern.

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as you scrambled to turn off the music. In your rush, your phone slipped from your flour-dusted hands and landed on the counter with a soft thud. You straightened, cheeks flushing. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing your hands on your already-ruined skirt. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

He looked around, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. His eyes flicked from the chaotic kitchen to you, taking in the state of your clothes. “You’ve got something… there,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the chocolate smear on your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. “As soon as I’m done here, I’ll head back to the dorm and clean this up.”

Bangchan tilted his head, clearly unimpressed with your plan. “I can lend you a shirt. Might make you feel more comfortable.”

“No, no. I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “But thanks.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Then, without hesitation, he reached behind his neck and yanked off the black shirt he was wearing, leaving him in nothing but his jeans and a devilish grin. “Here,” he said, holding the shirt out to you like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You blinked, completely caught off guard. “You know you could’ve just grabbed another shirt, right? Like, one you’re not currently wearing?”

He leaned in slightly, the grin widening in a way that made your stomach flip. “And where’s the fun in that?”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at him, equal parts annoyed and flustered. His shirt hung in the air between you, a silent dare. Finally, you snatched it from his hand, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, unbothered, and strolled over to the counter like he hadn’t just walked into the kitchen half-dressed.

After a few minutes, you walked back into the kitchen, now wearing Bangchan’s shirt. It hung a little loose on you, the soft fabric brushing against your skin and carrying a mix of fresh laundry and whatever cologne he used. Not that you noticed. Much.

Bangchan was at the sink, scrubbing a mixing bowl. His back was to you at first, but when he turned around, his gaze lingered a second too long before he coughed and looked back down. “Did you know,” he started, shaking his head with a teasing grin, “that you’re officially the world’s clumsiest cook? There’s brownie batter... under the sink.”

You glanced at the cabinet beneath the counter, then back at him. “Hey, I said I’d clean up,” you defended, marching into the kitchen with your head held high. “And for the record, I never claimed to be a good cook. I’m just trying to help.”

Bangchan barked out a laugh, drying his hands on a towel. “Help? No fucking way. You’re a disaster, love.”

You froze, raising an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms, the oversized sleeves of his shirt only slightly undermining your indignation. “I didn’t see you stepping up to bake anything.. Let’s see you handle a whisk without breaking something.”

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. “Trust me, I’d still be better than whatever chaos you’ve got going on here.”

Your lips quirked into a slow smirk, and you reached for the bag of flour on the counter. “Oh yeah? Well, let’s see you handle this.” Before he could react, you scooped a handful of flour and tossed it right at him, the fine powder exploding across his chest like a smoke bomb.

Bangchan froze for a second, blinking down at the mess. Then, his lips curved into a wicked grin that should have been your warning. “Oh, it’s on now.”

With your hands on your lip, you realized that you had fucked up. “I'm sorry, I...”

Too late. In the blink of an eye, Bangchan scooped up the sugar and poured it all over your hair. You stared, half-shocked, half-impressed by his audacity. You parted your lips to fire back, but before a word could escape, the sound of his laughter erupted from deep in his chest.

“Really? Is this how it’s gonna go?” You grabbed the cocoa powder with a grin. Oh, he wanted a war? You were so ready. “Bring it on,” you shot back, face lighting up with mischief. 

You were almost halfway to smearing him with chocolate when his hand shot out and stopped yours midair. The cocoa slipped through your fingers, and just like that, your plan hit the ground.

Then, you collided—chest to chest. Bangchan wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the shift in the air, the heat between you two now undeniable. His lips curled into that damn smirk, the one that told you everything. Your heart was racing, but the thought of pulling away didn’t even cross your mind. The only question now was who was going to make the first move.

A silent battle passed between you two. His gaze locked onto yours, sensing the shift in your expression—less defiant, more... willing. And just like that, the tension morphed into something else, something undeniable.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, your lips brushing his. Bangchan’s breath hitched, a soft grunt escaping him at the sudden contact. Your hands, still coated with the remnants of your baking disaster, slid over his broad shoulders. You were a mess, sugar and flour everywhere, but somehow, it made everything feel a little more real. And Bangchan? He didn’t seem to mind one bit.

All he seemed to care about was having your lips on his. And fuck, you could feel how much he wanted it.

Bangchan grabbed your ass possessively, squeezing it and making a raspy moan escape your lips. You pushed him against the wall, without detaching your lips, savoring how the softness of his lips felt like cotton candy.

When you finally broke away, your chests heaving, your fingers still pressed into his skin, you met his gaze. His chest rose and fell beneath your touch, and you could feel the pull between you intensify again, magnetic.

“I should probably clean up this mess.” your voice broke the tension, but the realization hit harder than it should’ve. Bangchan was clearly fed up with your habit of diving in and then ghosting the consequences. 

“Don’t you dare.” his voice was low, the words like a command you weren’t about to ignore. His eyes locked with yours—intense. “You want this.” his lips brushed against yours, a tease that made your heart leap, while his words hung heavy in the air. “I know you do.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but him.

“Bangchan.” You whispered, barely able to breathe. The heat from his hardness spread like wildfire, and your body seemed to betray you. “We can’t.” you licked your lips—stupid, because he was already there, sealing your protest with a sloppy kiss, stealing that last ounce of restraint.

You were losing it. Why did he have to be so... goddamn good at this?

“Oh yeah?” he pulled away, just enough to make you regret the distance. “Tell me one good reason. Just one.”

You snorted, doing everything you could to hold it together, but the pull between you was undeniable. “Please.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching like he wanted to argue, but instead he closed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, walking away, but the air between you two still crackled.

The rest of the kitchen cleanup was like some strange form of punishment. You moved in sync, two people acting like they hadn’t just burned down every ounce of decorum in the room. The silence was deafening, the kind of awkward that made you wish you could pull the floor open and swallow you whole. But instead, you just scrubbed harder, hoping it’d drown out the thundering thoughts in your head.

He pulled away, no jokes, no teasing—just silence. It was like a switch had flipped, and the tension that had once sparked between you now lay dormant, suffocating. You didn't know if you hated the quiet or if you hated yourself more for letting things go as far as they had.

When everything was finally done, he still helped you carry your things to the dorm, his touch lingering just a little too long as he adjusted the bag over your shoulder. You were too busy battling the whirlwind of your own thoughts, replaying every moment, every look, and cursing both him and yourself for what you’d just crossed into.

You hated how easy it had been. How natural. And you hated even more that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to regret it—at least, not yet.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik

[edward-munson]

kissing the cold away | E.M.

Summary: Eddie always visits you at the coffee place during his breaks, ordering the same drink every day.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!reader

Word count: 1.6k

No warnings

❆☕︎

Eddie walked in the coffee place, trying to warm his hands that were almost hard as rock from the cold. It was snowing outside, and he was on his break.

The Hideout was in the same street as your work. He would always come to get coffee whenever he was free in the afternoon. It was always almost by 4 pm. The bell above the door rang and you looked at it, facing him. He was wearing a black beanie, leather jacket on top of a sweater and ripped jeans. God. He can never let go of his style, even when it's freezing cold.

He sits on the stool close to the espresso machine. He loved the smell of it. He loved the smell of it mixed with your perfume, actually. And it's probably something he could never admit out loud. You turn around and shoot him a warm smile. One that makes your eyes crinkle. He smiles back at you and crosses his arm on top of the counter.

"What can I get you today, nerd?"

He grabs the menu from the counter and lifts it up to his face. You roll your eyes. He pretends he's reading the list of coffee options. You know he just likes to drink cold brew with almond milk. You don't know how or why. Even if it's not that, he just chooses a Frappuccino instead. You think it's because it's warm inside, because how else would he drink that outside? Might as well just pick up the snow from the floor and make a snow cone.

"Uhhhh" He stalls, purposely. "I'm going to want a cold brew with almond milk. And please add extra ice"

You gasp. You're not sure if he's joking or not. He starts chuckling, throwing his head back.

"Wouldn't you like me to pick some ice from outside? Maybe there's some with pee on them" You retorted, playfully mocking him.

"Now that's–" He points his finger at you in objection "Really low of you, honey"

You melt with the nickname. Your ears start to burn immediately every time he calls you that. You're not sure it's because you're shy, or because it sounds too sweet coming from him.

You shrug and start his order as you catch up with the news of the day. He says he's going to play a small gig next weekend. You tell him you're going to have a week off next month.

He drinks his coffee and makes a scene whenever he takes a sip. He closes his eyes, knitting his brows, and his lips leaves a sigh in delight.

"You're such a dork"

He muses towards you, placing the mug on the counter, and tilts his head.

"A dork yes, but you love him"

You eye him up and down and grimace mockingly. "Yeah, you wish"

You turn your back to him, only to serve a new customer. He watches as you smile at them, giving them suggestions about the drinks. He swallows his coffee slowly, gulping when you glance at him for a split second before using the machine.

He suddenly became incapable of speaking. You're just in your usual barista uniform, your hair tied in two small braids on the front. Your eyeliner is very discreet. Eyelashes with mascara fluttering as well. Your makeup is so light, and yet it lasts an entire day.

His coffee is sitting on the counter for almost five minutes, because that's how long it took for you to finally be free to talk to him again. You look at it first, and then to his face.

"Your coffee ain't getting colder, you know" You speak up, nudging your head towards the mug.

He creases his brows in confusion, looking down at it. Eddie didn't think he was being too slow to drink his coffee today and you seemed to have noticed it though.

"What do you mean? I'm a slow drinker" He tries to be bold about it, but you scoff at him.

"You almost always inhale your drinks. Unless it's a Negroni, which is like the worst drink ever"

Eddie opens his mouth in offense. "Don't you dare speak of the best recipe invented!"

You're staring at him, defiantly. You're leaning against the counter, holding the edge of it with both hands. He downs the entire cold brew, placing the mug back on the counter. He licks his lips and glances up at you, wiggling his brows.

"Now you're just going to get a brain freeze, dork" You giggle at him.

Eddie is the king of acting. So when you least expect from him, he shows his skills. "Ow, fuck. Ow, ow"

He's squirming in his seat, one hand spread over his forehead like he's having a headache. You immediately take a step further and hold his head with both hands, looking concerned. He removes his hand from his face and smirks at you.

"You're the most insufferable person I know, Munson" He watches as you slap his hands away, laughing at your reaction. "You finished your beverage. Now get out of here"

He is still giggling at you. Your face might show how annoyed you are, but deep down you match his energy. His sense of humor is one of the things you like the most about him. You love the way there's never a bad time for him, even if he's short on money.

"Hey, you can't kick your clients out! It's snowing outside, it's a crime to let people freeze"

When you look at him, he knows you're about to be serious. "I'm gonna commit a crime myself if you don't stop annoying me"

Your forehead is wrinkly because of your eyebrows that are knitted. He tries not to laugh at you, but he finds it difficult when he's having fun pushing you.

"Sorry, honey. Just trying to lighten up your day a little more" He raises his hands up in surrender, his bangs moving as he shakes his head.

He stays there until he has to get back to work. He tells you the most stupid jokes, he tries to flirt with your friend Betty and when you try to whack him with your dish cloth, he shields himself with the menu. Eddie makes your day better, no matter how it's going. He knows when you're in a bad mood, too, which makes him dial down his clownish demeanor.

He always offers to pick you up from work and drive you home. Even if you live only a few blocks after him. He doesn't care if he has to go back. You try to bring your own food every day so you eat better, but sometimes he makes up the idea of having different food whenever he thinks of it. And today you were going to eat pizza.

You're sitting on your couch as Thundercats is on TV. You talk through eating and watching the TV, laughing every now and then when you start gossiping.

Eddie finds the most random things to talk about and, strangely enough, you like to hear about them. He geeks out about Lord of the Rings and D&D, which you don't understand but you nod anyway.

You're talking about your plans to go to college, rambling over your insights, and how you're planning on getting a place to share with Robin. You're distracted by your own subject, when Eddie impulsively reaches out his hand to rub off the pizza sauce from the corner of your mouth. He slightly ran his rough thumb over your skin, removing the stain off of it.

He gave you a kind smile as soon as he dropped his hand back to his plate. You sheepishly smiled, like you just lost confidence by standing next to him.

Sometimes he doesn't want to leave your place, he wishes you would ask him to stay, but he doesn't want to overstep his limits. As he dries the dishes, Eddie stays in his daydream, thinking of how he could ever ask you out. Because he would love to. He just wouldn't know if you'd love to.

As you stand on your doorstep, you say goodbye to each other while he makes another joke or two. It's always like that, he wants to make sure you're still having a good day when you lie in bed.

It didn't cross your mind before, but now it feels like you could actually have him around sometimes. Do some sleepover, or something. You take a step towards him, lifting your feet up to stand on his height. You press your lips against his cheek, inhaling his fragrance that slightly lingers on his skin. One of your hands reaches for his shoulder for support.

Eddie stays frozen for a moment, until he holds your waist against his arm. Suddenly he doesn't feel cold anymore. He turned his head only a few inches, pecking your lips gently. They're plushy and soft. You don't know why you haven't done that before, and you're great he did for you.

He stands still, holding your face with his hand, rubbing his thumb over your chin. Both your noses are cold.

You're both a little shy. He can't express the feelings that are bubbling inside of him. But he doesn't want to cross a line yet. And he thinks you would agree with him.

"Till tomorrow, honey" He says as he takes a step back, walking to his car. "Don't forget to lock the door!"

You chuckle at his words. He's always been too protective over you.

Once he's inside his car, he buckles the seat belt and grins at himself. He's feeling like he's on cloud nine and it was only a kiss. Eddie stays in the car for a couple of minutes, digesting what happened. He tries to remember your taste, pinching his lower lip.

You're still standing by your door, your back leaning against it. Your heart is hammering against your chest, and you can't describe how good it was.

He can't wait to see you again tomorrow, and he wonders if he's still going to kiss you again. You can't wait to see him, wondering if he still wants to kiss you again.

[sphireath-wisp]

#Backstage Pass!

Synopsis -> What an electrifying performance, it was worth all that money and time waiting. It was so good that you wanted an encore - in private, with less talking and more action.

Warnings -> Not proofread, all aged up, suggestive, language, Rin is objectively sweeter than Sae and Kaiser, mean Sae and Kaiser

Featuring -> Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi x F! Reader

"Oh, of course, you like MICHAEL KAISER, of all people," You force a sarcastic smirk, eyebrows creasing as if you eye her up and down as if you were judging her for some sort of malefaction. Honestly speaking, you should have foreseen this. You're the one who wants to go to the concert; you dragged your friend along so it wouldn't be a solo trip, but she's developed a liking for the blonde boy. He's the playboy type who goes on stage shirtless, flaunting the ink adorning his skin. Even when he makes the gracious decision to wear a solid-coloured tank top, it doesn't take away any attention from the prominent cerulean rose blooming on his throat. Her blase favouritism of Kaiser was nothing new.

Beneath the charisma - so lamentable, it was laudable, Kaiser had an ego that reached for the stars. But it was his solipsism that made him such a star, an unbreakable confidence that shined even brighter as he played. It's unusual for a bassist to get so much attention in a band, but everything was absurd about Kaiser in the first place. And the worst part is: he had the skill to back it up, every single shit-eating grin.

"An encore?" You watch Kaiser mouth out to the audience, and the crowd goes wild - especially the fans with the tips of their hair dyed a gaudy blue. Your friend shakes you back and forth, spilling a mix of 'thank yous' and 'ohmygosh' past her lips. His grin only grows wider as he hears the crowd cheer, almost expectantly, like the crowd was supposed to meet his expectations.

"You have a backstage pass, right? Do you think I could snatch his number?" Your friend nudges you, readily waiting for a supportive response. You hum - pretending to think so you wouldn't have to turn her down so flatly. "He's kissed fans before, so you'll need to try your luck, yeah?" You give your friend a comforting pat on the back, but you're the one who needs to reassure yourself, "Anyway, he's just eye candy, right?" She nods insouciantly: after all, it's not like they know each other.

When you see her soothing smile, for a split second, you wonder if you're being too critical of Kaiser. Your friend seems to enjoy the concert, maybe this has created common ground for you and her to bond. This smug bastard and his god-given charm may actually be a blessing in disguise.

"Don't you know how to swallow? You're drooling," You soon learn that you're a good judge of character when Kaiser forces his thumb into your mouth. You realize that your gut has always been right, and you can't decipher whether the uncomfortable churning in your stomach is due to butterflies or the sickening taste of nail polish on your tongue. Gosh, you feel like an idiot for doubting yourself and, most of all, doubting how much of a bastard he can be. Kaiser pulls you closer on his lap as if he couldn't get enough of your Carolina Herrera, and palms the swell of your ass when you scrape your teeth over his knuckle.

Your nails, freshly coated in a shade of rose that disgustingly reminds him more of that keyboardist than himself, scratch his forearm on their way up to his clavicle, leaving a trail of hot fire in their wake. Your raspberry-flushed skin matches his, especially when your fingers - more suited for loving than burning - wrap around the expanse of his neck and threaten to crush his airways. His fingers are out of your mouth, and his breath is already lost before anything has begun; you're starting to see the appeal in womanizers when his half-lidded eyes - glossy and lovestruck - stare with a shimmer that rivals stars.

"Didn't expect to find a beauty like you in the crowd, but you were giving me such a dirty look," His words are coated in honey, like flattering women is second nature for him. Your grip unconsciously loosens at his praise, and he uses his newfound leeway to capture your lips in his. He smells like Maison Margiela's Jazz Club, rum rubs off your sweat-slicked skin, and you swear you feel his teeth on your tongue when you press your chest against his.

His hands undo the clasp of your bra, and his tongue plays with the rest of your sanity. You swear to whoever's listening that you need another bottle of beer to wash this feeling of longing away because you're sure you're drunk on him. Kaiser's always been known to kiss his fans, but he kisses his haters even harder.

"SAE ITOSHI, apologize this instant!" Kaiser mimics their manager, arms crossed and voice in an ear-gratingly, squeaky high pitch. Almost condescendingly, he grabs the keyboardist by the hair and forces his gaze down - to the point where he's at a 90-degree bow. "How could you treat a young lady like that?!" He scoffs as Sae swats Kaiser's hand off of his hair, clicking his tongue, irritation crystalline clear.

"R-Really, it's okay...!" You try to get a word in, raising your hands awkwardly to try and ease the situation. Kaiser is dead set on humiliating Sae, though; he's planning to get a good laugh like the carefree narcissist he is. You have to visibly hold back your laughter, heaps of air gathering in your lungs, and it bubbles in your chest. Sae straightens himself out, clearing his throat as he looks down at you from on the stage. Hopping off the platform to get on your level, the only thing separating the both of you is the railing set up for crowd control (and the bodyguards), he lets out a deep sigh.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get your shirt wet and... I hope I didn't ruin the performance for you," He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and cranes his neck to look away, not out of shame, though. Rather, Sae isn't sure where he's supposed to look. Your see-through white shirt is drenched, and the lacy black bra you have under is clear as day (though it is partially your fault for wearing black under white - Sae's gone through enough girlfriends to know that women are aware of these things, but he'll admit his faults and apologize anyway.) To be frank, he finds the event a blessing in disguise; you're gorgeous in lace, but he wouldn't say that aloud lest he be considered a pervert.

It was already past midnight, and the concert had ended, fans still stuck around to snag a photo with their favourite member, though. Seeing you at the front of the crowd (and the obvious 'accident' with your shirt), Kaiser caught him staring and decided to be a bigmouth. Swooping in like the playboy he is, he acted all righteous when he heard what happened and well... Sae Itoshi has his head bowed like a little boy apologizing to their mother.

"I'll make it up for you, yeah?" he states firmly, and the air shifts when you agree oh-so-sweetly. Ladies first, he would say, to avoid staring at your chest, but you could feel eyes glued to the mound of your ass from under your miniskirt.

He's making it up to you, alright, with his knee between your thighs. Long, slender fingers slip up your skirt, and the lacy black panties you have under make his star-etched pupils morph into hearts right before your lovestruck eyes. He's patient, he's graceful, and he's deft with every kiss to the point it makes you feel hungry. Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae plays on the radio, and he cages you onto the cushioned seats.

Your legs wrap around his waist like poison ivy, and there's sweet venom every time your collar is stained royal purple. His tongue dances on your skin, and it's even more mind-numbing when his tongue traces yours. With a gasp, or a squeal, or maybe a mix of both, you wonder how long it's been and why he's torturing you like this, and your eagerness tastes like honey to Sae.

Sae swears he's never met a girl so noisy before, but hell if he cares. He wouldn't mind if he met you after every performance, or if he snuck you into the studio to have you right there and then whenever that bastard Kaiser opens his mouth. Bleary-eyed and half-lidded, he thinks you look cute like this and, damn, his eyes weren't lying when you looked good in lace. He almost feels bad. You swear your skin feels like it's on fire, and he's your fuel. You breathe him like oxygen and he's as starved as you, he never knew what air felt like before you.

Sae's fingers, the ones that used to be so rough from playing the guitar with his little brother, the ones that have grown long from years of playing the keyboard, slip under the waistband of your lacy panties. He whispers apologies that he doesn't mean, and he swears to buy you another set as soon as possible. You don't care about his apology, you knew he was a half-hearted bastard the moment he blatantly ogled at you earlier. What's more important is the new set and this perverted idiot better give you another stress-relieving night for the trouble he's put you through! You know Sae Itoshi always keeps his promises.

RIN ITOSHI, the exceptional newbie in the band. Introduced as the 2nd electric guitarist, he hid his prior connections with Sae Itoshi to avoid accusations of being a mere product of nepotism. People had already acknowledged his skills by the time the truth spread. He didn't really catch your eye in terms of personality. He was as reclusive as his older brother but more vocal with his thoughts. If his brother had an "enigmatic" appeal to him, he would be "unapproachable".

"He's cute, isn't he?" Your friend playfully hums by the shell of your ear, and you shrug indifferently in response. Your gaze trawls through his black leather jacket, which looks like it was inherited from someone older, with its sleeves folded to the middle of his forearms. His stringed necklace dangles down to his electric guitar when he slouches, calloused fingers hovering over the strings. "Pretty good for someone new..." Your friend continues, her own eyes the furthest thing from chaste. Yet, instead of chiding her, you'll be the one apologizing sooner or later - you couldn't catch anything she said when Rin happened to glance up in your direction, no less. Coincidence or not, his tongue peeks out of his mouth, the pink muscle running over his lips.

Slim teal eyes narrow at you sharply when you don't look away immediately. You stare back as if you haven't sensed his annoyance and sheer arrogance, and you're utterly shameless about it too. As if mocking the guitarist, you stick your tongue out before openly running it over the canvas of your teeth.

You pass it off as flirting with no goal in mind, especially when his face scrunches up in belying disgust. It was nothing more than passive teasing, the kind of thing you'll dream about when the boys you know act stupid and the tension you'll crave when life gets dull. It's something you'll romanticize for the rest of your life until Rin Itoshi is muddled in a scandal, and you can't see anything attractive in those piercing eyes.

Well, you were half-right.

"Isn't your friend looking for you?" he half-mocks with a tone that makes you want to slap him stupid until the apple of his cheeks is as swollen as your cherry red lips. His mouth is as dirty as it tastes, and he doesn't know how to treat a woman at all. There's nothing remotely sweet about Rin, but the naivety blinding him - convincing him silently that he doesn't want this as bad as you do - is caramel on your tongue.

He's too young and dumb, your voice of reason echoes in the expanse of your skull, and you're sure he hasn't locked the door, but he's already kissed you silly. The black dressing room table feels a little shaky whenever his tongue slips into your mouth, or perhaps your whole world is shaking because of him. Your back crams against the mirror, and the warmth of the LED strips make your brain fuzzy. Eagerness and embarrassment conflict when he holds your waist, rough fingertips shyly slipping under the hem of your shirt and tapping against your skin as if asking for permission. His hesitation is evident when you pull away and the thought of upsetting you strangely eats him whole.

Your chest heaves up and down, off-beat from the temperamental percussion of your heart. "You're asking that now?" you manage out whilst guiding his curious hands further under your shirt, "Sweetheart, don't act like you're worried someone will catch us." Catching your breath, you yearn to lose it again as you lean forward for another round, the white quartz of his stringed necklace cold against your skin once he flips your shirt up.

You can't tell if the lights are flickering or if the flash of a camera has caught you so vulnerable, like putty and moulded into Rin's embrace. But, you don't care, and Rin seems to care even less with the way he whispers sticky sugar promises to buy you another Dior lip gloss and a new bag to boot. It'll be his first scandal if the paparazzi have caught the both of you, but you'll celebrate it with a bottle of champagne in the walls of his apartment, for sure.

Taglist: @dewwberry, @mikmwehehe

[kyeomkuppie]

Me? Jealous? Pfft!

Pairing: Minghao x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, a tinge of angst

Synopsis: in which you were jealous but your boyfriend knew how to exactly comfort you.

Why has he standing with her for over 10 minutes?! It wasn't like it mattered to you. Pfft! of course not.

You've known your boyfriend to be very respectful, so it wasn't like you didn't trust him, I mean he clearly carried the Victoria's secret shopping bag that obviously belonged to you. It was as if 'I have a girlfriend' was written in his forehead. But it didn't help that some thoughts were starting to invade your mind.

She was refined. Her back straight, making you suddenly aware of your posture. Her voice quiet, making you too conscious about you naturally outgoing nature.

And most importantly, she embodied everything you wish you were. But this wasn't the time to go through internal monologue of how you think she's better than you! She has been talking to your boyfriend like she has known him for 30 years.

You were starting to go over 30 ways to commit murder without getting caught but your boyfriend finally made his way to you, after, in your opinion, a conversation that has been going on for too long.

"I'm sorry if I made you wait." He smiled guiltily.

"It's fine." Your sudden quietness caught him off-guard, and for someone as perceptive as Minghao, it wasn't hard to guess that something was off.

The store names in the mall were suddenly very interesting and it was painfully obvious that you were avoiding his gaze.

"Baobei, are you upset?" He knew you were weak for that nickname and it was apparent from the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you were giving one-word responses, which wasn't like you at all.

"No, Why would I be?" You manged to fake a smile which pretty much looked like a grimace.

You scoffed "Me?Jealous? Pfft!"

"Did anyone bother you while I was talking to [girl's name]?"

Oh, so he also knew her name?

Unfortunately for you, he noticed the furrow of your eyebrows when he said her name.

"Or is it me?...Are you jealous?"

He raised an eyebrow at how defensive you suddenly got. You two were back to his car and as soon as you closed the doors, you knew he had something to say.

"Baobei, talk to me. You know I don't like leaving things unresolved." His tone was serious but still gentle.

"No- No, It's not something to resolve. It's silly and I don't want to make a big deal out of nothing." You bit at your fingertip.

"It isn't nothing if it makes you upset, please tell me." He grabbed both your hands.

"She was just so...you. She is everything I want to be and that just made me a bit insecure and it really isn't your fault and the fact that I didn't know what had you so focused on what she said made me feel...I'm sorry I'm being childish." You look down at your hands.

He raised your chin with two fingers and slowly pulls you closer. "First of all, she is the choreographer of our new comeback. She wanted to ask about my input for the choreography. And what do you mean she's so me? You're a part of me that could well enough define who I am. No other person could ever replicate whatever you could do to make me feel how I do."

At this point these words were too much for you, and how he described you so romantically wasn't helping in how red your face was getting.

"Yes- I mean no and um you know-" You could no longer make sense of what you can say. You were too hyper-aware of the distance between you two.

He smiled knowing the buttons he pushed and decided to pull the final move.

He pulled you in and his lips landed on yours. You grabbed onto his shoulders and started kissing him like it was the last time. The slow yet desperate rhythm of both your lips was too much for you and when you suddenly pulled away a realization dawned upon you.

He could talk to a thousand girls and only you could get to devour his lips that way. You smiled to yourself at the thought but you instantly snapped out of it at your boyfriend's voice.

"Was it that good?"

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[paulyenvol6]

Bruised, Not Broken

Based on this lovely request! Thank you so much for the idea and I hope you like it :)

Daemon and you have an ugly fight which leads to him leaving the red keep and you having a panic attack.

Contains: angst, anxiety, mentions of a miscarriage, very slight smut, mentions of physical pain, hotd typical themes like death and fighting, comfort

Wordcount: ~4.43k

Masterlist

The sun was about to touch the horizon when you looked out of the window and it looked so pretty that for a moment you forgot about your upset state of mind.

"Darling, can we please talk about this another time?" Daemon's voice brought you back to the moment and you rapidly turned your head to your husband remembering what he had just said.

"No, we can't. I can't believe you didn't even talk to me before agreeing."

Daemon shook his head like he was speaking to a child that couldn't comprehend the easiest connections and you felt the blood rushing in your ears.

"I'm pregnant, Daemon. I want you by my side when I deliver our child and I most certainly don't want our child to grow up without its father."

You walked towards him putting every emotion you felt in your eyes but his nostrils flared dangerously.

"So you think I would get killed off just like that by some idiot follower of the crabfeeder? My wife thinks I can't fight properly?"

You exhaled deeply and grabbed his upper arm.

"Of course I do. But don't you get the point? It is dangerous and you can't deny that. And as I said, what if you're not with me when I give birth?"

Daemon briefly looked down to the well-visible swell of your belly but then glared at you again.

"I will be back in time," was all he pressed but now your eyes filled with tears.

"You don't know that," you whispered your hands gripping the fabric of his tunic.

"I do, y/n, seven hells. The maesters say you're gonna deliver in two moons. That's plenty of time for me to put this crabfeeder in his place."

"But what if not? And what if the child comes too early?"

You searched for his eyes but this time Daemon avoided your gaze and instead looked to the side.

"This is our first child together, Daemon and I – I'm scared. You know that. I want you with me when it happens."

Now it was him who exhaled loudly and his lips curled in anger. "I will be with you. I promise you that."

"You can't promise me that."

Daemon scoffed and turned away from you all of the sudden.

"Then tell me what kind of marriage this is if my wife does not trust me? Mhm? If my wife thinks that I won't make it at the stepstones and thinks I'm too weak. And if my wife tells me what to do."

He pointed at you with small eyes but you wouldn't let him intimidate you. You pressed your lips together and made a step towards him.

"I fucking wish I could tell you what to do, Daemon Targaryen."

He threw his head back laughing loudly and aimlessly walked around the room.

"You do it all the time, y/n. You do it from the moment I wake up. The last thing I hear before falling asleep is you telling me what clothes to wear in the morning."

Your heartbeat fastened and you clenched your fists trying to fight the urge to scratch or squeeze something.

"How dare you. I want the best for this family and all I do is try to make sure that you're fine and that my child has a good life."

"Oh wait. So you're telling me what to wear because… You want the best for our child?"

You grinded your teeth. "This happened once," you hissed quietly but loud enough so you were sure he would hear you. "And it was because your brother wanted you to behave and present yourself nicely because he had guests."

"Yes. Exactly. So it is not enough to control my life but you're also conspiring with my brother because wild and messy Daemon needs to be controlled and can't be left alone because he might do something stupid. I'm not a fucking child and I don't need your or my brother to act like you're my parents."

You panted heavily and placed your head on your forehead.

"You really don't get it, do you?"

He closed his eyes and laughed uncontrolled. "Do you know that you always do this? You throw all these things at my head and when I don't agree with you you tell me that I'm just too stupid to understand you."

"That's enough, Daemon," you shouted and pushed yourself away from the table you had leaned against. "You don't listen to me, that's why. As soon as I critises something about you you always get into this defensive attitude instead of just listening. I'm not saying these things because I want to upset you."

"Mhm yes, you're just so caring and kind and it's me who brings in all the trouble. Why did you marry me then, huh? Have you only just now noticed that I'm not gonna spend my life chained to our chambers in king's landing while my men are fighting for our comfortable lives at the stepstones? Did you think I'd change my entire personality once we're married and I fucked your cunt once?"

"Shut up, Daemon. I mean it," you hissed close to tears.

"It's good, yes. Fucking you, I mean. But it's not that good."

"OUT. GET OUT RIGHT NOW!" you screamed and pushed against his chest.

For a brief moment he stood still ignoring your attempts of pushing him away and not moving an inch but soon he flared his nostrils one last time and then turned around to leave your chambers.

~~~~~~~~~~

Daemon stomped rather than walked through the streets of king's landing and he was almost certain that there was actual smoke leaking out of his nose. His whole body was on fire and he knew that only two things could calm him now.

The first one was very difficult to do because he didn't know where to find a person that would willingly let him beat him up so Daemon now headed to his favourite brothel that was located on the street of silk. He rarely went there anymore now that he was married and had found a partner that enjoyed sex just as much as he did but tonight he found that he didn't have a choice but to return to this place that had once been his favourite place to be. You wouldn't open your legs for him tonight so someone else had to. There was no way Daemon would be able to sleep or eat or do anything in this state of mind so he had to calm himself.

He saw the familiar wooden sign from the far and contently sighed. There was this signiture smell of this part of the city and when he had been a young boy and Viserys had taken him to a brothel for the first time he had found it to be disgusting and obscene. Today he was in some way used to it. Oddly enough it smelled like a woman's cunt and as filthy as it felt, the scent now excited him.

Daemon entered the brothel and immediately noticed all the women lolling lasciviously on the couches. In the dim light the owner of the brothel, a short man that everyone only called One-Eyes Rog because he had lost his left eye in a fight in an inn a few years ago, didn't notice him at first but when his eyes fell on his silver hair he immediately bowed his head.

"My prince. What an honour it is to welcome you here."

It was obvious that One-Eyed Rog had suspected to have lost his loyal guest to you after his marriage which was why he was so surprised by his unexpected visit.

"What can I do for you, my prince? I just got a handful of new girls from the north. One of them, Ysa is her name, is the loveliest redhead you'll ever see. So young and soft, you'll feel like you're touching a maiden."

He laughed loudly which sounded more like a horse snorting and held his stomach as if he couldn't keep himself up. Perhaps he actually couldn't. Daemon didn't feel like spending so much time in One-Eyed Rog's presence so he rolled his eyes while walking past the man.

"Bring her up to my room. I expect I still have my own room," he whispered quietly and it sounded a lot more threatening that he had intended to.

"Of course, of course, my prince," the owner of the brothel assured him while bowing again. "Please, let me know if there is anything you require. Anything you want, we will bring it to you."

Daemon almost didn't hear his words because he was already making his way up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~

You panted heavily and placed your hand on your chest.

You just couldn't help it, his words had hurt you like little knives that he had driven right into your heart. And now you couldn't reach inside to pull them out so all you could do was wait and stare at the door.

You didn't even know whether you wanted Daemon to return. After all it had been you who threw him out but still you wanted him to tell you how sorry he was and that everything had been a big mistake.

'Fuck,' you thought and squeezed your eyes. Everything spinned around you and you quickly gripped the table to your right so you wouldn't fall to the ground. What if you would never reconcile? What if Daemon just left to fight at the stepstones and wouldn't come back? What if you would never see him again? What if your child would grow up without its father and what if you would have to raise it on your own?

The sob came unexpected but since you were alone in your room you didn't fight the waves of tears washing over you. You allowed yourself around ten minutes of self-pity during which you imagined the worst things that could happen but after there were no tears left to cry you raised your head again and inhaled a few times.

Your surrounding were still spinning so you blinked a few times until you felt brave enough to take a step forward. The stumbling that followed wasn't caused by your dizziness but rather by how powerless you felt and suddenly you remembered that it had been hours since you had eaten something. And that was although your doctors had told you to eat enough.

Fresh tears formed in your eyes because how was it that you didn't manage to care for your babe before it was even born? You sat down on a chair and stared at the bowl of fruit in front of you. You had to eat something, that much was clear but you didn't crave anything. For some reason the sight of the apple made your stomach turn and you were aware that you would have to force yourself.

Your trembling hand reached out for the bowl thinking that a peach was the least unbearable food to eat right now so you grabbed it and examined it closely. Despite feeling the rejection from your belly you moved it to your lips and took a careful bite.

It wasn't like it tasted bad. It was a peach after all. And still you almost wanted to throw up and immediately put the fruit down. Your face was drawn with disgust and despite everything the maesters had told you, you would have to ignore their advice tonight. You just couldn't eat anything.

Feeling very helpless and pathetic suddenly you placed your arms on the table and rested your head on top of them. You didn't know how long you were laying there like this. Strangely, you suddenly felt numb and so tired that you couldn't even feel anger towards Daemon, so you just waited and wished you could go to sleep and wake up to find everything as it was before your ugly fight.

But of course none of the gods granted you this wish and instead you were soon disrupted by an awful pain in your core. It started as a light pull but soon you had to straighten up because you thought the position might be the problem. But it only became worse and you anxiously touched your belly.

'What is going on?' you thought and gasped for air when a sharp and intense ache spread throughout your body. It was way too early for you to give birth, that was clear, but what was this? You were more than familiar with the usual and normal difficulties during pregnancy, like morning sickness or your aching back but you had never felt something like this.

'Daemon,' was the first thing that shot into your head but in the very same second you remembered what had happened between the two of you and you wished you could slap yourself. Or Daemon.

Gods, why did this happen right now? You needed him now and you had no idea where he was. You tried to stand up because either way, you needed a maester to look after you and the babe but your knees were so wobbly that you instantly fell down on the chair again which caused another wave of pain. Shouting, it was then.

"Ser Tomas," you said loudly on the verge of crying and after repeating your words two more times the door sprang open and the knight rushed into the room.

"Princess. What is it?"

You held your heart trying to fight the panic that was slowly but surely creeping up on you.

"I-I… Something's wrong. Please get the maester," you whined and you felt your toes curl at the pain. What was happening? This couldn't be true, no. You didn't even want to form the thought in your head but what if – What if you were losing the child.

Suddenly, and you didn't even know when it had started, tears were rolling down your face and combined with your dizziness you feared that you might faint. Ser Tomas had answered you but you hadn't been able to understand him so all you could do was wait while the knight left the room as quickly as he had entered it and you just hoped that he went to get someone.

Daemon. You needed him so badly. You needed him to hold your hand and stroke your hair and tell you that everything would be fine. You needed him to rub over your belly and hear his voice close to your ear. Your eyes sprang open at another sting and you watched your stomach as if you could see if something was wrong that way.

And then, you didn't know how much time had passed the door opened again and Maester Fynnes rushed in as swiftly as his old body allowed him to.

"Princess," he shouted and although he was not the person you wished to see it gave you comfort to have somebody at your side.

"I-I don't know what's wrong," you managed to press. "It hurts, it hurts so bad. W-What i-if I… I don't wanna lose it."

Once again the veil of tears didn't allow you to make out your surroundings but this was your smallest problem right now.

"Breathe, princess. Breathe. That's the most important thing."

You tried to follow his advice and inhaled deeply but it didn't help you at all. It rather increased your panic because you feared you would suffocate as the lack of air entering your body made your head turn.

"I-I don't know what to do," you sobbed hands gripping the chair you were sitting on. The maester had sat down next to you and watched you concerned.

"It's too early for the child to arrive."

"I'm losing it," you cried panting hectically. "I-I think I'm losing the child."

"No, my princess. You need to calm down, it might just be – "

"NO," you interrupted him and threw your head back. "Fuckkkk…. I need Daemon. Please. Get him here. Now."

Maester Fynnes almost jumped to his feet and ran to the door. The next few minutes passed without you comprehending what was happening around you but you were too focused on the pain and trying to breathe to listen to the maester. Only when he was next to you again did you hear him.

"They will search for Daemon. I'm sure he will be back soon."

"Where is he?" you whispered and grabbed the maester's hand. "Where is he, why is he not here with me?"

Fynnes actually looked pitiful when your eyes had found his and soothingly ran his thumb over the back of your hand.

"I don't know, princess. But they will find him."

"I need him now. I need him, fuck… He's the only one – Please, find him. What if he has left? Is Caraxes still here, has he left on his back – "

"Shhh," Fynnes made. "This is not helping. It would be better for you to try and relax."

But how were you supposed to do that? Your thoughts were spinning, your heart was beating so fast that it was almost uncomfortable and your whole body was aching.

"I will bring you milk of the poppy, princess. It might help you sleep."

It took you a moment to comprehend his words but once you did you were shaking your head rapidly.

"No, no, no. I need to help the child. I can't sleep, I have to save it."

Maester Fynnes rose to his feet while patting your shoulder.

"The child will be fine. There is nothing you have to do beside calming yourself."

When the maester returned with a cup your head was still shaking. It was still shaking when he offered you the cup. But then at some point you were simply too tired to refuse and you were actually quite thirsty.

So even before your lips touched the cup your brain already felt cloudy and the liquid evenutally did the rest.

~~~~~~~~~~

Daemon licked over his lip and tasted sweat. He had his eyes closed and his head thrown back in pleasure but somehow he still wasn't in the present moment. His thoughts wandered to you over and over again no matter how deep he fucked Ysa or how tight she clenched around him.

"Oh fuck," she moaned and Daemon registered how her hands gripped the bed sheets but his body felt disconnected to his mind. He felt the pleasure he was receiving but it didn't reach his brain.

And yet he went on to chase his release, gripped her hips and reached around her body to cup her breasts but just as felt himself getting closer to the edge the door opened and Daemon exhaled in dissatisfaction.

He stopped fucking Ysa but stayed inside of her while turning his head to see who had disrupted them. Noticing that it was a knight from the red keep, he frowned.

"My prince. There is an urgent matter. You have to come back to the red keep, your wife has requested your presence!"

At first Daemon hesitated but he knew you so well. And he knew how proud you were. Never would you swallow your pride and ask for him if it wasn't a serious matter. That was why Daemon quickly pulled out of Ysa without looking at her for another second.

"What happened? Is she alright?" he asked while putting on his clothes. He didn't care whether the man would be able to recognise the concern in his voice; it was about getting a grip of the situation now as fast as possible.

"I don't know, my prince. I was just sent to search for you and I was told to be quick."

Daemon nodded and closed the buttons of his shirt with his slightly shaking fingers. "Let's go then."

The prince rushed through the streets next to the knight whose name he didn't know and the longer they went the more scared Daemon became. He wasn't the kind of person that was scared a lot, because what did he, the rogue prince have to be scared of?

But he knew that this was a different situation. You would never ask for him to come to you during a fight if it wasn't important. He remembered all too well how you didn't speak to him for 4 days last year after Daemon had called your traditional wedding gown "prim". You were stubborn. And you wouldn't send knights searching for him just to yell at him again.

That was why when the two men finally arrived at the keep Daemon felt a bitter feeling in his stomach. He really needed to check on you now and make sure that you were alright because despite all the fighting and disagreements he loved you deeply and would never leave your side.

"Where is she? Is she in my rooms?"

The knight nodded and Daemon noticed how he looked anxious as well which didn't exactly calm him either.

"I-I think so. They told me to bring you to your chambers."

"I will find the way."

With these words the prince started to walk through the corridor and once he was around the corner he started to run. Although he wasn't a particulary religious person suddenly he caught himself praying that you were fine. And then he finally arrived, energetically opened the door to your rooms and his eyes sprang open.

A man with a black scarf over his head stood by your bed, and Daemon could see the tip of a dagger glinting in the moonlight. His brain quickly processed and then he hasted towards him exactly in the same moment as the assassin started to approach your sleeping figure.

That was the moment the man noticed Daemon and shifted his attention to the prince as well.

"Little bastard," Daemon hissed while the man made his way to him and quickly pulled out his sword. By now you had woken up from the noise and shrieked when your mind comprehended what was happening.

"Daemon," you gasped and watched with big eyes how your husband swang his sword at the assassin.

It would be an exaggeration to say that it was a long fight. He was Daemon Targaryen after all and within seconds he had managed to disarm the man and then drew his sword through his throat. Blood sprayed everywhere, the man sank to the floor and then everything was quiet so all Daemon heard was your sobbing.

You had buried your face in your hands and uncontrollably cried and of course your husband had to do something about it now. He swiftly cleaned his sword with the assassin's cloak, dropped the weapon and then made his way towards you.

"Come here, darling," he whispered and lifted you up by your arms to pull you against his chest. "It's alright, I'm here. I'm here, love and you're safe."

His left hand held your back while his right stroked your hair and it felt so surreal and good at the same time that you simply couldn't stop crying.

"D-Daemon," you sobbed and buried your hands in his muscular arms.

"Yes, I know. Everything will be alright now."

"I-I… I," you muttered and looked up to him with teary and round eyes.

"What is it, babygirl? What happened?"

You crouched against his strong body hoping that everything would be easier if only you were as close as physically possible and in this moment you were so grateful for the way his arms wrapped around your back. He just knew you and what you needed right now.

It took you a few more minutes until you felt calm enough to explain to him what happened but even then your voice was trembling.

"It was so… It was terrible, I… A-After you left… I j-just sat there," you started and your husband nodded encouragingly.

"A-And then after s-some time…. I felt a p-pain in my stomach. I-I was so scared, Daemon…"

New tears welled in your eyes and your whole body was shaking while you buried your face in his neck that smelled so much like Daemon. His soft voice cut through the air while his hand repeatedly ran over the back of your head.

"What happened then, love?"

"I panicked. And I-I thought t-that I… That I'm g-gonna lose our child. S-So the maester came and I don't know… I don't remember everything. B-But I asked f-for you b-because I w-was so scared and then… Fynnes g-gave me milk of the p-poppy a-and I slept. Until now."

You finally looked at him again and his eyes looked so soft that you wondered how this was the same person you had fought with a few hours ago.

"Oh darling," he said quietly and pressed a kiss on your forehead. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. How are you now? Are you still in pain?"

Slowly you shook your head because to your relief the ache had actually vanished.

"No, it's better."

"That's so good to hear, my love."

You quietly let him hold you for a while until you couldn't wait anymore; you just had to share your biggest fear.

"B-But what if I actually l-lost it, Daemon? What if I had a miscarriage in my sleep?"

Your voice sounded so thin and weak that in any other case you would've felt embarrassed but right now you just couldn't think of anything but the babe in your womb.

"No, honey. Do you see any blood on the bed? You would've bled if you'd lost it." He placed a hand on your swollen belly. "Let's see. Perhaps we will hear it."

He rubbed over your skin a few times while kissing your shoulder. For a few minutes you only paid attention to Daemon's steady breathing and the warmth of his hand on your body until you felt something inside of you. It was a kick and you instantly teared up again.

"I-I felt it," you gasped and heard him chuckle softly.

"There you have it. It's alive and it's healthy, sweetling."

You slowly nodded and then lowered your tired head until you leaned against his shoulder.

"That's right, y/n. You can sleep. We will figure out everything tomorrow."

You were too tired to even think about his words. All you knew was that everything would be fine.

It didn't matter how much the two of you fought or if you had different opinions on some matters.

You loved it each other and this love would overshadow anything stepping in your way.

[channiesunshinx]

Heyy! I wasn't sure if you're doing request or not so feel free to ignore this!

Could you do a Minho x reader with a miscommunixation trope. Angst with a happy ending maybe?

It could be Minho speaking to others in Korean but R only knows a bit of Korean and misheard it as something else and gets upset.

Sry if this a bit long! But I absolutely adore your work!

𝒯𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

Pairing: Minho x F!reader Genre: Romance, drama, slice of life, miscommunication Warning: Language barrier, miscommunication

Minho and the other members were sitting around in their dorm, chatting and joking after a long day of practice. Y/N, Minho's girlfriend, had recently started learning Korean, and although her skills were improving, she still found it hard to catch every word. She was sitting on the couch, trying to follow the conversation, occasionally glancing at Minho, her boyfriend, hoping he'd translate for her.

As Minho spoke with the members, the conversation turned to something funny that had happened earlier at the practice studio.

“그럼, 그때 내가 그만큼 미쳤다는 걸 못 믿겠어.”

(“I can't believe I was that crazy at that time.”)

“맞아! 진짜 미친 거 같았어.”

(“Yeah! You really seemed crazy.”)

Y/N looked up, trying to piece together what they were saying. But then, Minho said something that made her stop cold, her heart sinking.

“근데 사실, 이 관계는 그냥 장난인 거 같아.”

(“But honestly, I think this relationship is just a joke.”)

She froze, staring at him, her mind racing. Did he just say that? Her face went pale. Her stomach twisted. Just a joke? She couldn't believe what she'd heard. Minho had always been so loving and kind to her—how could he say something like that?

Minho, oblivious to her distress, continued talking and laughing with the members. Y/N stood up quietly, trying to hold back the tears, and walked out of the living room, heading toward the balcony. She needed some space to think.

Felix, who had been listening closely, noticed the change in the atmosphere. He saw Y/N leave in a hurry, her face downcast. He exchanged a quick look with Minho before walking over to her.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes already glossy. “Minho… he... he said it was just a joke,” she murmured, her voice shaky. “He doesn't really care about me, does he?”

Felix frowned, his heart aching for her. “What did he say?”

“He said our relationship was just a joke...” she repeated, tears spilling over. “Am I just a joke to him? I thought he loved me.”

Felix quickly realized what had happened. “Oh, that's not what he meant!” He laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension. “He was talking about something completely different, Y/N.”

Y/N wiped her eyes, confused. “What? But... I heard him say that it was just a joke. I don't understand.”

Felix smiled, shaking his head. “It was just a joke.” He paused, thinking carefully. “He said it was crazy, but he wasn't talking about your relationship. It's just... the story from practice. He wasn't talking about you at all.”

Y/N blinked, still not completely convinced. Felix could see she was struggling to understand.

“Let me go get Minho,” he offered.

Minho entered the balcony area moments later, his expression concerned when he saw Y/N sitting there, looking distressed. He stepped toward her, reaching out slowly.

“Y/N, what's wrong? Why do you look so sad?”

Y/N hesitated, her voice trembling. “You... you said it was just a joke. Is that how you feel about our relationship?”

Minho’s face fell as he quickly realized what had happened. ““No, that's not it! What are you talking about?”

Felix, still standing nearby, smiled gently. "Y/N, he was talking about something from practice. It was just a joke.”

Minho nodded, his eyes wide. “I'm so sorry. I didn't know you heard it like that.”

Y/N blinked in confusion, her heart pounding. “So... you weren't saying that you don't care about me? That I'm just a joke to you?”

Minho took a deep breath, his eyes filled with regret. He sat down next to her, taking her hand gently. “No, I never meant that. You're the most important person to me. I'm taking our relationship seriously.”

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief. She let out a shaky laugh, still a little overwhelmed. “I... I just misunderstood. I'm sorry for freaking out.”

Minho chuckled softly, wiping away a tear from her cheek. “It's my fault. I should have been more careful.”

Felix gave them both a playful look and then backed away, allowing them some privacy. “Alright, I'll leave you two to sort it out. Be happy!”

Minho and Y/N shared a quiet moment together, and Minho pulled her closer. “I promise, I'll be more careful with my words. I never want to hurt you.”

Y/N smiled softly, her heart at ease now. “I know... I know you wouldn’t. I just... I don't always understand everything, but I'm trying.”

Minho smiled, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I love you. And I'll be right here, teaching you, helping you... forever.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, her worries melting away.

[ni-idea-07]

you will never be alone again.

Platonic Yandere Jason Todd X Reader.

TW: illegitimate siblings, cheating, mild yandere, mutilation threats, non-graphic mutilation, paranoia, threats. English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes

Somehow Jason found out he had a younger sister. It didn't really matter how he found out, but he was excited and panicked at the same time. Well, he had a lot more emotions on his mind.

He had to find you and see you for the first time in person which touched him the most.

You weren't of age yet and you weren't a baby, you could take care of yourself, but he wouldn't allow you to be alone like he was in the past.

–"Hey, brat, how much for a candy?"

You were surprised when he asked you, after all he was twice your size and he didn't seem like the kind of person who would buy the ugly and cheap candy you sold out of obligation.

Once you told him the price, he pulled out his wallet, a rather full one, you threw away the box of candy and took his wallet from him, leaving him with a smile.

He wouldn't chase you, he already knew where you would go.

Like every night you returned to the shelter where they let you sleep, that night you slept well, when you gave the money to the "Madam" - as everyone called her - she let you sleep in a bed and gave you decent food. She always took in children and forced them to sell candy so they would bring money, if they didn't bring anything at the end of the day they wouldn't eat, but those who brought enough money could eat and sleep well for a week.

The next morning you woke up feeling strangely satisfied. You had brought more money than usual and you hadn't had to run too much to get it. The "Madam" had given you a decent bed and a hot meal, which was a luxury in your daily life. But that feeling of security didn't last long.

As you stepped out onto the street with your box of candy in hand, you ran into the same man from the night before.

Jason Todd.

You didn't know his name yet, but his presence was impossible to ignore. Tall, muscular, and with an expression that seemed a mix of amusement and something more... dark.

–"Morning, little thief"– he greeted you with a sly smile, leaning against a lamppost. I hope you slept well with my money.

Your body tensed. It wasn't the first time you'd stolen, but you'd never encountered someone who came back for what was theirs. Or worse, who seemed to enjoy the game.

–"I don't know what you're talking about" – you muttered, feigning disinterest as you tried to walk away.

Jason chuckled, but his hand moved quickly, catching your wrist with ease. He didn't hurt you, but his grip was firm.

–"Oh, come on. Don't worry about it."

–"Consider it a gift."– He leaned in a little, his voice dropping to a whisper. –"But tell me, do you like that place?"

Your expression hardened. You didn't understand what he meant.

–"I mean, the 'Madam' and her cute way of treating children. Making them work for their own food... that doesn't sound very fair, does it?"

Your stomach clenched. You didn't know why, but something about the way he said it made you feel uncomfortable.

–"It's none of your business"– you muttered, trying to let go of your wrist.

Jason didn't budge. His eyes, a deep blue, shone with something you couldn't figure out.

–"It is. And even more now that I know you're my sister...."

Your breathing stopped.

–"What... what did you say?"– you whispered, feeling the world around you shake.

Jason smirked, as if he'd been waiting for that reaction.

–"Yes. You're my little sister. I looked into it."

–"Don't worry about the details, the important thing is that I found you."

His other hand rose to ruffle your hair with a strange tenderness-. And now that I know you exist, I'm not leaving you alone in this hole.

Your instinct told you to run. To flee immediately. But Jason's grip tightened a little more, as if he could read your mind.

–"Calm down. You don't have to decide anything now."

His smile turned a little colder. –"But I'll make one thing clear to you..."

He leaned in, his breath brushing your ear.

–"If that woman ever lays her hands on you again or forces you to work one more day... I'll cut off her fingers, one by one."

A chill ran down your spine. There was no anger in his tone. There were no screams or empty threats. Just a promise said with the calmness of someone who would really do it without thinking twice.

And for some reason you knew he meant it.

Things went on as usual for the next few days... or at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. But the feeling that someone was watching you never went away. Sometimes, when you turned a corner, you saw a silhouette that disappeared too quickly. Other times, you felt a presence nearby when you were selling candy, as if someone was making sure everything went well.

And worst of all: every time you brought money to the shelter, the Madam would You looked more closely. Something had changed in her attitude.

One night, when you returned after a particularly long day, you found her waiting for you with her arms crossed and a tight smile.

–"You've been bringing too much money lately."– Her voice sounded sweeter than usual, which only put you more on alert. –Who have you been kidding, sweetheart?"

Your jaw clenched. You knew any wrong answer could cost you dearly.

–"I'm just selling well"– you replied calmly.

The Madam clicked her tongue, approaching with slow steps.

–"Don't lie to me. I've seen that man following you. Tall, leather jacket... too well dressed to be a common customer."

Your stomach churned. You couldn't deny the obvious.

–"I don't know what you're talking about."

The slap came before you could react. Your cheek burned, but you didn't make a sound. It wouldn't be the first time this happened, and you knew that reacting would only make her continue.

–"Listen to me, you little shit"– her voice sounded icy. "If you're saving money or if you're thinking of leaving, you'll regret it."

You didn't answer. You knew you didn't need to.

That night, as you lay down on the bed you'd won, fear settled in your chest. Not just because of the Madam, but because you knew Jason was right. You weren't going to last much longer here.

And sure enough, the next day, Jason stopped watching from the shadows and took matters into his own hands.

When you left the shelter, you found him waiting for you right outside, leaning against his bike with a bored expression.

–"Good morning, sis. Ready to move in with me?"

You opened your mouth to refuse, but he just held up a hand, stopping you.

–"I don't want to hear excuses. I know what that witch did to you last night."

His gaze hardened for a moment. –"I made sure she never touches you again."

Your body tensed.

–"What did you do?"

Jason shrugged nonchalantly.

–"Nothing too drastic... yet. I just made it clear that if she tried to hurt you again, she'd lose more than just her fingers."

You didn't know what that meant exactly. You didn't want to know.

But when you looked back at the shelter, you saw the Madam peering through the window, her face pale as a ghost.

Your chest tightened. You didn't want to admit it... but being with Jason seemed safer than staying here.

The days with Jason in his apartment were... strange.

The place was horrible, unkempt and almost empty.

There was no decoration, just some functional furniture and a couple of guns lying around, as if they were decorations. The smell of gunpowder, cigarettes and old coffee permeated the air. Still, everything was in perfect order. Jason had made an effort to clean the apartment because he was afraid that you were allergic to dust.

Still, the real danger was him.

Jason was not normal.

From the first day, he behaved intensely. He wouldn't let you go out alone, always having an excuse to accompany you. He insisted on knowing what you were doing all the time and, if you took longer than expected in the bathroom or kitchen, he called your name impatiently, as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

And when you didn't get an answer right away... well, you'd learned that Jason didn't have much patience

One time, you locked yourself in the bathroom for a few minutes longer than usual because you wanted some peace. You hadn't thought it would be a problem... until you heard a loud BANG and the sound of the door being smashed in.

Jason walked in with his gun drawn, his eyes red with fury and his breathing ragged.

–"What the hell were you doing!?"– he demanded.

Your heart stopped.

–"I... I was just in the bathroom..."

Jason stared at you for a second, then let out a shaky breath.

–"Don't do that. Don't make me worry like that."

And then, without warning, he hugged you.

It wasn't a warm, comforting hug. It was tight, suffocating, almost desperate.

–"You can't leave me alone. Not again."

His words made your blood run cold.

Again.

You had no idea who he was referring to. But in that moment, you knew it didn't matter.

Jason wasn't sane.

And you were stuck with him.

==================================

Thanks for reading.

Interactions and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated.

Regards.🫠

[larluce]

Ok, to celebrate the Merlin is trend yet again. I'll share a Merthur prompt that occured to me yesterday.

I've read a couple of fics where Merlin is deaf, like he was born deaf or lost his hearing at a very young age, which leads to Arthur learning sign language to be able to comunicate with him. I love this concept, mostly cause I'm a big fan of sign language I think it's beautiful.

But what if Arthur was the deaf one and not Merlin?

Think about it. Royalty wasn't allowed to be nothing but perfect. Left handed princes were forced to learn to write with their right hand, because that was consider "defective". Now imagine having a dishability! It was disastrous!

I imagine Uther forcing Arthur to learn how to read lips and talk with a normal voice so nobody knows he's deaf. The King makes almost a requirement that people must be infront of the prince when they talk to him and never talk to him when his back is turned, saying this is to show their respect properly. Also Uther makes Arthur only speak with other people when strictly necessary. This, of course, makes Arthur feel miserable and lonely.

Years go by and Merlin arrives in Camelot. Their first meeting and later confrontation on the street happens mostly the same, just adding Merlin constantly turning his back on Arthur, despite Arthur telling him to speak to him to his face (this annoys Arthur particularly for obvious reasons).

Then Merlin saves his life, but this time Arthur isn't affected by lady Helen singing because he can't hear her. And he is way more observant thanks to his lack of hearing, so he clearly notices Merlin was in the other side of the room one second and next to him in the next when Merlin pulls him away of the direction of the knife.

So when Uther is about to reward Merlin, Arthur says just that.

Arthur: How is that you came here in time? You were on the other side of the room! Weren't you affected by the echantament?

Merlin: (nervous) I... Well...

Uther: (suspicious) Couldn't it be you are an ally of this witch boy?

Gaius: (to Merlin's rescue) Is not that, my lord. Merlin could safe the prince in time because he couldn't be affected by the singing at all. He's deaf.

This is a lie, Merlin is not deaf, but his mother is. Gaius is saying this just to save him and Merlin gets it inmediatly so he plays along.

Uther: (to Merlin) Is this true?

Merlin: (speaks in a "deaf voice" as he signs at the same time) Yes, your majesty.

Uther: I see...

Arthur: (looks what Merlin did with his hands with curiosity)

Uther: Well, as I was saying. Your act today merits something quite especial. From now on you'll be the Prince's manservant!

Later. When Arthur and Merlin are alone in Arthur's chambers.

Arthur: How did you do it?

Merlin: What?

Arthur: Get to me in time.

Merlin: Gaius explained. I'm deaf.

Arthur: Is not just that you didn't hear the singing. You were too far!

Merlin: I run fast.

Arthur: That's not true! I didn't see you running, you just appeared at my side.

Merlin: Well, how could you know? You were asleep, weren't you?

Arthur: (thinking) Fuck... (Says) You're right...It just... seemed like it because I fell asleep. (Sits on his desk and starts reading some scrolls) You are not needed now. Leave.

Merlin: (puts himself on Arthur's line of vision) I know... about you.

Arthur: (nervous) I don't know what you mean.

Merlin: You are deaf (makes the sign of "deaf")

Arthur: (laughs) I'm not.

Merlin: You weren't affected by the singing.

Arthur: That's not true. (Thinking) I was careful to pretend to fall asleep like the others.

Merlin: I also called you ungrateful royal ass when we were heading here and you had your back turned at me like ten times and you never once answered.

Arthur: ...

Merlin: I must say your speaking voice is quite impressive-

Arthur: (stands up abruptly and points at Merlin's throat with his sword)

Merlin: (lifts his hands) Wow! This is what I get for saving your life? A very ungrateful ass indeed.

Arthur: (afraid he's secret will come out) I will kill you right there.

Merlin: There's no need for this! I won't tell anyone!

Arthur: (more panic mode) Nobody can't know! If you dare to say something-

Merlin: (shouts) I HAVE MAGIC!

Arthur: ...

Arthur: (thinking maybe he didn't read Merlin's lips correctly) What?

Merlin: I have magic. That's why I wasn't affected by the singing and that's how I got to you in time. I also dropped the chandelier on her. I used magic. See? Now you know a secret of mine that could get me killed. So I'm not going to give you away

Arthur: (puts down his sword slowly) So... you are not really deaf? (Kind of dissapointed cause he though he finally find a person like him that could understand him)

Merlin: (surprised Arthur puts more attention to this fact than the fact that he is a sorcerer) No, but my mom is. That's partly how I figured you out. You remind me of her.

Arthur: (remembering the sign language) You did something with your hands before, while speaking.

Merlin: Oh, that's a language my mother tought me to be able to comunicate with her better 😊! We have a hand gesture for every letter, a, b, c, d, e (shows the sign as he mentions the letters) And also a sign for every word like table, run, angry, prince (does the last sign pointing at Arthur) It's easier for her like this. I know reading lips is exhausting. I translated her what other people were saying most of the time.

Arthur: (gets a bittersweet feeling, thinking on how this woman wasn't force to fit the standar and rather her son adapted himself to her needs) That's really nice. You are a good son. (smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes). I won't tell anybody about you either. You don't have to worry.

Merlin: (relieved, but also notices his sadness) I could teach you if you like. My mom's language.

Arthur: (shakes his head) I can't be seen learning a deaf language.

Merlin: They don't have to know is for you. As far as everyone knows I'm the one who is deaf, remember? You can tell them you're learning it for me so you can comunicate with your deaf servant better.

Arthur: And would they buy it?

Merlin: I mean you are not precisly known for being kind to your servants, but it's worth a try. What do you say?

Arthur: (smiles genuinely this time) I would like to.

So Merlin teaches Arthur the language and his life gets better from then on. Merlin is always with Arthur in every meeting or interaction with other nobels and translates him what he didn't catch. It becomes a common occurrence seeing the prince and his servant comunicating in this particular way in the halls. Then Morgana (one of the few that knew about Arthur's secret) and Gwen start learning it too, bringing even more attention from outside view.

Then Uther, angry cause he thinks this could lead to Arthur's secret been revealed, tries to send Merlin away. Arthur argues with him for that of course, sometimes signing furiosly as he speaks.

Uther: Stop making those hand movements for godsake! You look like a retarded!

Arthur: (doesn't speak and signs furiously instead) Oh, you don't like when I sign? Well look!

Uther: What was that? Speak.

Arthur: (signs) It doesn't feel good not understanding what someone says, does it?

Uther: I said speak!

Arthur: (shouts) I said it doesn't feel good when you don't understand what someone says, does it?! To have make an extrordinary effort to just get a word right everytime someone as much as opens their mouth!

Uther: ...

Uther: Arthur-

Arthur: I finally found a way to comprehend better the world around me thanks to Merlin. And instead of seing it as an opportunity, you want to take that away from me!

Uther: You were fine before.

Arthur: I wasn't!

Uther: Well, you won't die because you can't do some hand gestures. This is stopping. Now!

Arthur: (takes a deep breath) Alright, I won't do it ever again. But let Merlin stay. (Begs) Please.

Uther: The boy can stay.

Arthur: (with gritted teeth) Thank you, father. (Bows and leaves)

Morgana: (enters the room having heard the whole conversation from outside) You must know this will kill him.

Uther: He's just being dramatic. It'll pass.

Morgana: My lord, you never once wondered... why Arthur didn't move?

Uther: What?

Morgana: When the blade of that witch was flying at him.

Uther: He was enchanted.

Morgana: He wasn't. He can't hear, the voice of Lady Helen couldn't reach him. So why didn't he move when he was completely aware and he had more than enough time to evade it?

Uther: ...

Morgana: Think about it, my lord. (Leaves)

Sometime later. After seeing his son doing his duties depressed, contrasting with how joyful he had been the last months, Uther decides to call Merlin to his chambers.

Merlin: Did you call for me, Sire?

Uther: What are those hand gestures you do that my son seems so obsessed with?

Merlin: My mom calls it "sign language", Sire.

Uther: So it is an actual language.

Merlin: Yes, there is a "hand gesture" for every letter and word.

Uther: (pauses) Could you... Teach it to me?

Merlin: (smiles brightly) Of course, Sire.

So Uther lets Arthur keep signing. One day he surprises him signing back and Arthur almost cries right there.

As time passes. More people learn to sign, first the knights so they can interact in silence during a mission (an idea proposed by Arthur). Then, since the King , the Prince and the King's ward interact like this constantly, it gains popularity as a "language of royals" so nobel families start using it too. Merlin teaches to sign to some of Gaius' pacients who have deaf relatives which leads to the language to spread to the lower town.

And about a decade later sign language is basically the official second language in Camelot.

That's all I got for now. I don't know how merthur would get together in this AU or how events of the series would unfold with this change like Nimueh or Morgause intervation. If you had any ideas, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be reading you ;)

[beneathsilverstars]

people are wondering about loop in the au where the party stops siffrin from using the dagger in dormont and the ensuing conversation breaks the loops so let's see...

Siffrin would still want to go see Loop first thing afterwards, but everyone else would be verrry worried about him going off alone. He tries to inconspicuously wander off but Isabeau is immediately like, "Heyy buddy where are you off to? Mind if I come with?" Siffrin feels guilty for selfishly making everyone feel obligated to not leave him alone, and getting them all worried about an issue that isn't even what it looked like. So he's kinda hoping they won't be so worried about him now that they've beat the king and decided to stay together... but he's also afraid that if they stop worrying, they'll decide, okay, no need to stay together after all.

But luckily Siffrin doesn't have to sort all of that out right now, because they know Loop has complicated feelings about the party and doesn't want to see them, so they know they have to go by themself if they want a chance of talking to them.

They try to play it casual, "I'm just going to the favor tree, you don't have to come with me." But two can play at surface-level manners so Isabeau says "I want to, though, it's no trouble!" Siffrin doesn't want to refuse him point-blank, but they really want to talk to Loop... so they go back and forth another time or two before Isabeau's like "Look. You understand why I'm worried about you suddenly going off for no apparent reason, right? On your own, when you've been glued to my side for the last half hour? I... I don't want to stop you,'' (Does that mean that he wouldn't? Or that he would, but he'd be sorry about it?) "but I would feel a lot better about it if you brought someone with you? Doesn't have to be me. Or at least explained why you're going...? Sorry, I know it must be so annoying to have to explain your every move, but... it's been less than a day, since. y'know. And I'd be... I just want you to stay safe."

And oh, Siffrin hates that he's made Isabeau so upset, that he messed up so bad yesterday and that he's making it worse right now, that he's made him so concerned over nothing. So he hesitantly, carefully explains, "There's someone I want to talk to. at the favor tree. I... talked to them there yesterday? And. they might be there again today, but. they definitely won't talk to me if any of you are with me." And, okay, it's reassuring that Siffrin has a reason, and it doesn't even seem he's lying, but. Isabeau can't help but be worried anyway. Especially because this is apparently someone Siffrin talked to at right about the same time that he started acting weird, yesterday? What if this person made Siffrin feel worse, what if they did something that pushed Siffrin over the edge??

But he knows that's edging past reasonable concern into paranoia, so he just asks, "Would it be alright if I walked you to the edge of town at least? Since you're still kinda woozy, and, that way I'll be in earshot if you need me...?" And Siffrin agrees, very relieved to have found a compromise and actually glad for the continued company. And it occurs to them that Isabeau might be less worried about them if they didn't have their dagger on them, and, the day has already been saved... So he gives Isabeau his dagger, along with a promise that he's not gonna do that, and Isabeau does seem happier!

So off they go through Dormont. Isabeau stops farther back on the path just a bit before the bend, where he won't be able to see Siffrin or overhear casual conversation, but could definitely hear a shout and coming running. And Siffrin goes to the tree, and sees the coin, and... twohats ensues! The dialogue is somewhat different, though, because they never did entirely figure it out in the end, did they? They had started learning about wish craft, but Loop hadn't quite connected it yet and of course Siffrin refused to look at their own wish. And then, what a dramatic final loop!

So. More along the lines of, "That was it? Really? You just had to kill yourself in front of them to get everything you ever wanted? To break the loops? To never be alone again? To guilt them into staying forever, because they think you're going to slit your own blinding throat if they let you out of their sight? Sure! Whatever it takes! Never let anyone tell you suicide threats don't work~" and "Do you know how many times I killed myself? How many more times I died?? Did I just not do it right? Wrong time, wrong place? Did I not suffer enough? Was I not selfish enough? What did I do wrong!! Why do you get to escape and not me! I deserve this happy ending, not you!! Why do you get to stay with them and not me!!!"

But, hm. Loop was kinda really raising their voice there at the end, weren't they?

Loop's voice still sounds a bit odd — part inhuman form, part new habit, part intense emotion — but, they're not putting active effort into keeping up the mask right now. Not when they're this upset. Not when Siffrin already knows. And Isabeau hasn't seen Loop yet; he just heard their voice. And a couple of the things that voice said.

So Isabeau makes it around that corner while Loop is speaking more quietly. And then Loop says "STARS, killing you will make me SO HAPPY," and Siffrin reaches for their dagger and freezes as he realizes and remembers it's gone, and Isabeau speeds up, and Loop looks up and see him and freezes too.

And Isabeau says, "Sif?? I thought you promised you weren't going to kill yourself over here???"

Long story short, Loop panics and runs, Siffrin follows while shouting things trying to convince them to come back, so of course Isabeau follows too, and Siffrin almost collapses because they're still craft exhausted. Loop gives up and lets them catch up, and I do mean gives up, they just wanna lay down and die, if you can't go out with a bang there's nothing wrong with a whimper. But Siffrin and Isabeau refuse to leave them there, so they wait around and talk at them, and then run out of things to say and wait some more. Eventually Mirabelle finds them and she's very upset and glad they're okay, and at that point Loop gives up on giving up and quietly follows them back to Dormont, so Siffrin won't get himself more sick and all his friends more worried, staying out in the forest all night.

And so! The party knows who Loop is from the very start, but not anything about the time loops! Just that something very strange must have happened, to end up with two Siffrins and one of them a star.

[bibookdemon]

Chat. Gay chicken(?) with Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan.

Warning for some nsfw aspects further down ;3

-Started out as SQH writing LBH as bi in PIDW, he was catering to the fans so suddenly LBH discovers he's also into men lmfao, so he writes a smut scene between LBH and another man and it is so much worse than any of the other smut. Bro did not do any of his fucking research. He has no fucking clue.

-Some of the fans eat it up but SY is like NUH UH THIS IS SHIT. And of course he writes that it's shit.

-For once, SQH writes back: 'Like YOU would know, you rich fucking asshole!' (He's gathered that SY has enough money he can sit around all day and leave bad reviews on his story.)

-SY is all 'Of course I know, idiot! Literally everyone knows how to write gay smut!!'

-And SQH is too deep in his rage to think about what he's saying so: 'Prove it then.'

-SY is also too deep. 'Come to XX on XX day.'

-They meet at a bustling coffeeshop that's super cute and geared towards couples. SY's first impression of SQH is 'wow he's short' and SQH's first impression of SY is 'yeah he looks fucking gay.' And he's pretty sure he's gonna eat his words.

-They go on a fucking coffee date. SY buys him coffee, they get a cute table in a semi-private corner, they actually get to talking and everything is kinda chill.

-SQH eventually remembers that hey, this guy is the jerk who leaves shitty comments on his story. So he tells him to man tf up and prove he knows about gay smut.

-SY is now scrambling to figure it out. He does not, in fact, know how to write gay smut. He does not, in fact, know how to prove it. So, now that he's panicking, he does the unexpected to divert SQH's attention: He slides a hand over SQH's, leans it, and kisses him right on the lips. 'How's this for gay?'

-SQH is absolutely surprised and flustered and also holy fuck that was like a really good kiss and low-key he wants to be kissed like that again but- 'still doesn't prove anything - unless you're unable to prove it'

-SY is in this too deep and has too much pride to give in. So he decides to go for another shock factor. He gets out his phone and he calls his favorite hotel. And he books a room. And SQH is just thinking to himself 'what the fuck have I gotten myself into' but of course he's not gonna back out! He has too much pride as well, and hey, a hotel room is better than his dingy little place, and maybe he also wants some more of those kisses.

-They go to the hotel in SY's car (SQH took the bus to get to the coffee shop) and then they're at the hotel and then SY is initiating a quick, sloppy kiss in the parking lot and SQH is feeling a little turned on and then- they have to go inside

-He figured SY was rich, but he didn't realize just HOW rich the bastard was. Bro got a fucking suite. It's huge, the bed is nice, the moment they're inside the room, SY's tongue is down his throat.

-After that, they both sorta stumble through the steps, SQH is too busy being turned on and wanting more kissing to recognize that SY is fumbling with everything and is sweating buckets and trembling cause he's so nervous. When it was time to put the condom on SY was so worried he was gonna rip it lmfao

-And they fuck, and it's awkward but also good, and SQH afterwards is just like 'you should prove you know how to write gay smut more often. To me.'

-SY is just like 'yeah, yeah,' he's tired and he wants to sleep and he just grabs SQH and snuggles him cause it feels right.

-Morning rolls around and they both realize what they just did + what they said they'd do in the future. And they're both looking at each other wide-eyed. And finally, SQH is all, 'Look Cucumber-bro, I don't know about you, but I had a fun time, and fuck all the stupid shit about writing gay smut, I want to BE the gay smut.'

-And SY is just like 'Ok,' because he has nothing better to say but he doesn't mind SQH's reasoning and he liked the sex.

-They'd be fucking hilarious. Poor SY doesn't know what he signed up for, SQH ends up having this endless stamina + an endless torrent of new ideas for them to try. 'I have to know how it works for the story!!! The fans are eating up my writing lately!!!!' - And SY has come to find SQH absolutely adorable and he can't say no to that cute face.

-They're just fuck-buddies at first, but they eventually develop a crush on each other, have a whole dramatic situation over that, and then start dating. (SY starts showering SQH in rich gifts lmao - some of them are useful some art, SQH loves all of them cause omg his boyfriend loves him and gift-giving is part of his love language.)

[marzipanandminutiae]

Eggers confirmed in interview that Ellen wasn't a child, she was teenager at the start of the film. You can probably say there's case of ephebophilia. But there is no CSA there. Also Eggers absolutely saw it as Dark romance and ships it himself. He wouldn't be doing it if there was CSA.

And that's fine, but not everyone accepts Word of God as canon

My thoughts on Eggers' interview statements are that he should have made his intentions clearer if that's what he was going for, because a huge portion of the audience came away with the impression that it was about someone's stalker/rapist coming back to jeopardize the life she'd made for herself out from under his thumb. And like...if he wanted people to not think that, he should have made directing choices that made the onscreen story match his vision better.

You're free to interpret it however you want. What I take issue with is people saying that there's One True Interpretation and no viable way to see it in any other light. There's one interpretation that the director intended, but the movie he actually made leaves holes to interpret it a different way. He shouldn't have made it that way if he had a very specific story to tell.

How can I see it as CSA? Simple. She said she was "a child" when it started and even if she was a young teenager, it being the early 1830s (assuming she's like 20-23 at time of canon, based on statistical age at first marriage for women back then) doesn't magically make 15-year-olds adults. 15 back then was about like 17 now- not a Tiny Baby, but decidedly not a Full Grown-Up either. "Child" CAN be a euphemistic term for a naive or inexperienced adult, but it's not always

And maybe if he wanted people to not interpret her as a literal child...he shouldn't have had her characterize herself that way in the dialogue, talking about when all of this started? "I was so young," "I didn't know better," "I was a fool," "I was naive," etc. SO MANY clearer wordings there. They already didn't get a child actress to play her in the opening scene; without that line, I'd assume it had been like. A few years before her marriage, when she was maybe 17-18, and just seen it as abuse rather than arguable CSA. It's a weird dialogue choice if he wanted to convey "the vampire sex started when she was young but not unacceptably young," like many other weird choices that I felt were counterproductive to his stated narrative aims.

Doesn't mean my interpretation is objectively correct either! But you don't see me going around saying that there's No Way Anyone Could See It As Consensual And That's Wrong And Bad.

I have both been there and done that before, coming from a fandom (Crimson Peak) where there's no way to interpret a central relationship as peer CSA/COCSA if you go by Word of God, but there's absolutely space for that based on what ended up in the actual movie. And I've had to make peace with it, even though I ship that couple to the moon and back.

You like these fake people kissing in this way, and other people don't. And that's fine! You don't need a big moral justification for it, or to have the Single Correct Interpretation!

[ghiblinsm]

Objective 1: Make Anya's lock

Mouthwashing x Jimmy's Daughter! Reader

part 1-ish?

word count: 2,526 words and 13,690 characters

"Reality, such a strange thing to me,"

warning: jingle bob, reader is morally grey but not in a pussy curly way, you may end up hating her depending who your favorite character is.

You jerk awake look over to see Curly heaving and groaning in agony, thrashing as much as he can with...well with his situation. His pained sounds are like nails on chalkboard as you walk over to the small pile of pain killers on the table grabbing one and stepping towards Curly.

"Ok Grant, open wide..." The grossest part is having to touch his nasty jaw to open it wide enough for him to take the pills. Popping one in and closing it back up as shiver crawl up your spine from the sound of his swallowing. "eugh.."

You sit down on a spinning chair near Curly and rest your head on your hand, needing to wait for him to stop heaving and thrashing to know if the pain killer worked, again. God... He smells like shit, guess that's what would happen though if one were practically skinned and lost four limbs and couldn't shower.

He finally stops thrashing and his heart rate returns to normal, his staring problem hasn't been fixed though, his singular eye staring intensely at you and your permanent scowl which deepens as he continues to stare. You stand up and kick the chair away while maintaining eye contact with Curly's eye.

"...What? What'd you want?" His staring continues as his mouth breathing seems to be getting louder and more unbearable. "well?! Speak up!"

"The voices in my head,"

You look at him then to the table and back at him, sighing in frustration as your fist clench. It would be dumb to get mad at him for doing the only thing he can do, stare.

"Whatever," you finally turn to leave as his eye follows your movement, "Anya will come by later, have fun till then I guess."

The door closes behind your retreating figure with Curly still looking in your direction.

You walk past Anya and Swansea talking about Curly and Repairs or something, and head to the main area, where Daisuke is sitting down by the big screen that's displaying a sunset into water and playing on the small console you made a while back with only a singular pixelated game that crashes if the smallest thing goes wrong.

You could care less where he is so that doesn't matter right now.

Despite clearly seeing what Daisuke is doing you still ask, "Hey, Daisuke. What-um whatchu up to?.."

"My friends from my dreams,"

"Hey! Yeah, I'm just trying to get passed this level but it keeps crashing..." He looks a bit slump but hopeful as the game crashes again from one of his choices. "But I swear I'm gonna get it this time!-"

"uhuh, thats nice. Hey, when you were with Swansea earlier, did you guys find any extra parts that weren't needed for the ship to function?..." you lean against the wall to try and seem as if you don't care what the answer is but truthfully...you really need a few parts, to create at least one lock.

Daisuke looks at you for a moment, as if contemplating whether to tell you or not. On one hand, Swansea had told him not to give you any extra parts anymore because quote, 'who knows what she's doing with those parts', but on the other hand you haven't done anything weird with scraps yet...

"Nah, we didn't find anything, are you trying to make something?" Maybe if he knows what you're trying to make, then Swansea will let him give stuff to you!

"Nothing, nothing...was just wondering, don't worry about it i'll- i'll figure something out," you head to the door to leave the main area barely muttering a goodbye.

"Bye?..huh" Daisuke watches as you leave then focuses back on the botched console.

"They whisper to me,"

You mindlessly roam through the empty halls, deep in thought but not thinking of anything in particular. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, you hear this agitating, grating voice from this greasy haired, internalized homo bitch.

"And what are you doing?" you sigh out in annoyance at the slight accusatory tone in his voice.

"The devil's on my shoulder.."

You look up at his face, his brows furrowed but his eye's show irritation. "Nothing, Captain." you learned pretty quickly, after he appointed himself Captain, that for him to leave you alone most of the time, just fuel his ego to be better than Grant.

"Have you made what I asked for yet?" Right...his 'need' for a master key to the rooms that can lock.

"No, I haven't gotten to it." And even if you had the materials, his key wouldn't exactly be a priority.

"And why haven't you gotten to it?" Ugh, the piss baby's getting upset.

"I haven't gotten to it because there hasn't been as many free materials for me to use." Before he speaks you continue, "And even if I had the materials, Anya was the first to start bitching to me about something she needs."

That grabs his attention, what would Anya need? Before you can leave, he grabs your shoulder and turns you back around to face him. "What exactly did Anya say she needed?" his eyes with a sort of craze look.

"How the hell should I know? I told her not to bother me until i've got materials, which seem to be nonexistent anymore on this barren ship." Thats a lie, you know exactly what she wants and why, but you hate Jimmy more then you dislike Anya so why would you tell him?

He stares intently into your eyes, like he's trying to detect if you're lying or not. "You better not be lying."

"I'm not, she's only priority because I had her save her spot by trading me a few pills..." God, when is he going to leave you alone.

He finally backs up and walks away, purposefully knocking into your shoulder to make you stumble.

"But I like the way he sings,"

With a small, irritated smirk, you try to find Swansea. Considering the state of the ship, it's hard to believe that they truly haven't found any scraps you can use.

You find Daisuke and Swansea in a storage room, Daisuke halfway inside a vent and Swansea watching from below, holding the ladder and instructing Daisuke on what to do.

"Hey, Swansea?" He barely jerks in surprise but turns his head to look in your direction, still keeping a grip on the ladder Daisuke's on.

"What do you need?" His gruff, slight accented voice sounds tired...whatever anyway.

"Have y'all found any scraps? Anya has a request for me and I don't have any materials." You know Swansea knows that something happened to Anya, just not exactly what happened, so hopefully he'll give you something.

He contemplates for a bit, likely debating the pros and cons if you're lying. There's silence apart from Daisuke yelping from almost shocking himself which snaps Swansea back.

He's sighs and nods to his left, a pile of scraps that they did indeed find. "it's over there."

"Great, thanks.." Daisuke almost slips off the ladder from the tone of your voice, knowing his lost aura points with you and most definitely fumbled from lying earlier.

"Love me endlessly,"

You grab all the scraps, using your uniform jacket as a bag of sorts to carry the metal and frayed wires.

Once you leave the room Daisuke peek down the vent to look down at Swansea and whines. "You made me fumble the huzzzz."

Swansea looks at him with a confused look, "I made you fumbled the, what the fuck?"

Anya was in the medical room watching over Curly when you come walking in with the scrap, a few tools, and the pills she traded you for the lock.

Anya looks up at you from beside Curly with her half lidded, very much tired, eyes. They widen with some kind of hope at the sight of your splayed-out scrap and tools on the only table in the room.

"What kind of lock do you want?" You get some water from the sink to take one of the pills which will hopefully kick in before you start working so you focus better.

"Um, I guess any that can lock from inside the room." Anya's obviously apprehensive, not to blame her, it's not exactly reassuring to have someone on drugs, making a safety lock that supposed to be a secret from the captain whom she is also related to.

She receives a hum from you then turns back to Curly, surprised at the slight rise in his heart beats per minutes. She stands and walks over to the pile of pain killers. "How long has it been since you gave him his medicine?"

You look up from your botched looking layout to Anya, "what time is it now?"

"And when I wake, have my soul to keep,"

She groans and grabs about 2-3 pills and walks back to Curly but hesitates to touch his jaw, quietly gagging. Annoyed at her for taking so long and acting like a baby you get up from where you were sitting and walk over, "I got it, just don't throw up in here."

She rushes out the room with a trashcan, leaving you to once again touch Curly's buck nasty bloody, burnt, bandaged jaw.

After giving him his medicine, and Anya has yet to return, probably yakking her guts out. The drugs start kicking in and well, the thin filter you had sorta slips as you get to making Anya's lock.

"This was your fault, know," Curly's one eye looks over at you as you talk to him, "you were the one to enable him," you turn in the spinning chair to face his direction but not looking up from a stubborn sheet of metal that won't bend correctly.

"I may have known what he did, but Anya didn't tell me, she told you, and you barely believed her until you saw him having a pussy breakdown in the halls." You look up from finally getting the metal into the right shape and see Curly staring at you with a shaky chest.

"You're worse than me." He sees your dilated pupils before you turn your back to him again as Anya enters.

"Desperately, they beg me not to leave,"

"Hey, Anya?" She turns to see you holding a few weird mashed pieces.

"Hm?"

"Where do you this to be placed?" Oh! oh... that- that does not look like it'll keep her sleeping quarters locked...

"Uh, yeah, just over here." She walks you over to her sleeping quarters and opens the door. Turning once you got inside and points to a spot on the door frame. "Can it be placed here?"

"Yeah, I guess," you grab a soldering gun to attach it to the frame, "here's the key," your hand pulls out a small key from your pocket with your other holding the soldering gun. "DON'T LOSE IT, I don't have enough materials to create another one."

"Okay, thank you." There's a hint of gratitude in her tone as she grabs the key and leaves her sleeping quarters.

"The fire in my eyes,"

You easily attach the new lock onto the door and frame and make sure it's not loose or anything, otherwise some people may be able to break in. It's still weird that the sleeping quarters don't have locks but at least you can actually add them now without getting credits docked, considering pony express, dumb name btw, went bankrupt.

You leave her room and see Daisuke trying to act nonchalant and leaning on a wall nearby...he's not subtle in his motives with the way his eyes rapidly glance at you to see if you're looking. looking at the look then back at him you get an idea.

"Hey, Daisuke?" you're surprised at how fast his head turns to you with the most...irritating small smile rather than his usual, goofy, big one. "Can you help me test out this lock?"

He tries to cooly stride over but stumbles over a few dead wires and then just walks over. "Yeah! totally, what do I need to do?"

"Go into Anya's room, lock the new lock on her door, there should be a latch option.., and tell me when so I'll try to barge in. Tell me if the lock loosens or twitches or something." you make sure to explain in the simplest way possible, so Daisuke understands.

"Got it!" He enters the Anya's room and you hear a fumble of a switch, another sound of a switch, the jingle of the lock, and then the latch.

"is burning at my feet,"

A heavy sigh leaves from you as he probably thought something else was the lock, something turned on, so he turned it off, looked at the keyhole of the lock then finally saw the latch. "Ready!"

You back up a bit then throw yourself into the door, repeating a few times till getting an answer from Daisuke, a very scared Daisuke who genuinely felt a tad afraid from the aggressiveness of the shoves into the door, like you actually were trying to break it down instead of checking the lock.

He comes out a bit shaken but acts really tough, "Didn't even move an inch," he seems a bit proud until...

"You or the lock?" you snicker at his faux offended look on his face.

"For your information, the lock did infact stay put and so did I." He crosses his arms proudly but melts when he hears your words.

"Mhm, you were a very brave baby." you said it jokingly, obviously, so he quickly regains his composure once he realized.

"miles away from his life,"

You bend down to grab your tools as Daisuke seems to want to ask you something but is hesitant to. "He-Hey? do you want to come to my-"

Here comes the father-in-law, the fun crusher, the erratic homo, Jimmy. "What's going on here?"

Daisuke stifles a snicker at the sight of you rolling your eyes as you turn towards Jimmy's direction. "Nothing, I was talking with Daisuke about dumb stuff."

Seems like he grew something down there since he starts demanding shit you definitely ain't gonna follow. "Listen, I am the captain now and my key should be made first, it should be top priority!-"

Shaking your head you cut him off, "Yeah, yeah, you're right, once I get the materials, I'll get started on your key right away." a big fat lie since you definitely won't be working on it anytime soon, it'd be a waste of time and a waste of material. It's better to just put it off and say stuff to make him happy.

"without his love i'm not alright,"

"You better.." wow. . . so ominous and scary better get to work on that key card right away!

"Don't worry your pretty lil head, okay Jimmy? I've got it, you just go do your important little captain things, okay?" you gently start pushing him back towards the cockpit till he eventually grumbles and walks away.

You turn towards Daisuke, "Get a load of this guy." pointing your thumb back at Jimmy's retreating figure. Daisuke bursts into laughter(calm down it ain't that funny) and you two head to the main area.

Objective completed:

Anya will remember your generosity.

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Curly's relationship with you:❤️❤️

Becoming strained as your rambles become more personal and targeted.

Anya's relationship with you:💜💜💜

She trusts you enough and doesnt hate you but can't help but feel uneasy around because of yimpy.

Swansea's relationship with you:🧡🧡🧡

Doesn't hate you but because of your relationship to Jimmy he doesn't always trust you to give you scraps.

Daisukes relationship with you:💛💛💛💛

He's glad to have someone near his age to talk to and hang with that knows what references he makes, his heart beat raises when you two talk.

Jimmy's relationship with you:💙

Very strained from y'all's relationship, he didn't exactly raise you, was only obligated to give you shelter when your mom died, but when you were 18 you moved away and y'all only met again 2 years ago when his was 'introduced' to you from Curly before a shipment trip.

A/N: i feel like daisuke is the most out of character, oof.. but yay! first mouthwashing fic!

[triple-barred]

some excerpts from the first couple chapters of no easy answers by brooks brown

(transcript in alt text)

transcript for fourth image:

People will ask me what I remember the most about grade school with Dylan Klebold. Sadly, my strongest memory is of both of us kneeling on the floor of the Normandy Elementary School bathroom, bawling our eyes out as we took turns scrubbing a little girl's muddy jacket with a toothbrush.

It all started during recess. We were outside, playing in the leftover snow from a few days before. As we ran around, I found a big patch ofice that was starting to melt but was still plenty solid enough to play with.

"Hey, Dylan!" I said. "Come here!" By the time Dylan arrived, I was already bouncing and sliding on the slushy patch. Dylan gamely joined in, our feet smashing little spiderwebs into the ice as it buckled under our weight.

Dylan's boot crashed down on a corner ofthe ice and made the whole patch shift. It tipped into a puddle underneath, which splashed a good amount of muddy water into the air. A girl in our class was standing nearby, wearing a brand-new coat her parents had just given her; the mud left a jagged brown stripe right down the front of it.

It was an accident. We hadn't thought the ice was going to do that. But our classmate took one look at her ruined coat and started screaming.

The second grade teacher immediately ran over to assess what was happening.

"It was an accident," I tried to say. " We were just playing with some ice, and—"

"Don't you have any respect for other people's property?" I remember the teacher yelling at us. " Don't you? You two are coming with me right now." Dylan and I knew we were in trouble, but at the same time, we didn't understand why the teacher was so angry. It wasn't as if we had thrown the mud at the girl, or stolen her coat and rolled it around on the ground. Maybe we'd been a little careless, but that's all. It was still an accident.

We tried to get the teacher to listen to us, but she ordered us to be quiet as she carried the girl's coat into the bathroom.

Both of us were bawling by the time she had us at the sink, wetting a toothbrush. She put the coat in Dylan's hands. "I want this cleaned!" she ordered. " You two will stay in here and scrub that mud off and you're not leaving until I say you're finished!" Choking back our tears, we took up the brush and started working. We quickly discovered that using a toothbrush on mud wasn't very efficient but we didn't have any choice. Both ofus continued to cry, our ears burning red from the embarrassment of being yelled at, of our teacher's spiteful glare, of people looking at us as we worked.

"It's not coming out!" Dylan kept saying, rubbing the same spot for what seemed like the 500th time.

"We have to get it," I remember saying in response. I just kept repeating that. "We have to get it."

Judy Brown happened to visit the school that day to drop off something for her son during lunch hour.

"I was in the hall, and I ran into the teacher and she was red-faced mad," Judy recalls. "And I said, 'What's going on?'She said, 'Your son and Dylan ruined this girl's coat. He is in the bathroom right now, trying to clean it.'I asked when this had happened, and she said it had been over an hour before. She went and got Brooks to have him talk to me, and when he came out, he was in tears.

"So I took her aside, and I said, 'You know what, you're going a little too far with this,"" Judy continued. "I talked to Brooks and he said that he wanted to stay in school, that everything was okay: Well, I went to pick him up after school, and guess what? She had made them stay in there for the whole day, and now she was keeping them after school as well. She wasn't going to let it drop. This teacher was out of control, and it was over mud."

To this day, Judy is angry about the treatment of her son and his classmates in second grade, and not just because of the bathroom incident. "She expected these kids to be perfect," she says today. "And kids aren't perfect. But she would have none of it. She absolutely terrorized my child."

Scrubbing a coat in the bathroom may not have been such a bad thing by itself, but it was kind ofthe icing on the cake. Second grade had, from the beginning, been completely difierent from first grade. For Dylan and me, it was the first time in our young lives that we felt like an adult hated us.

[iamquiantrelle]

GOLDEN BOY (chapter 3)────── iamquaintrelle

⌗ pairing : trent alexander arnold x black oc

⌗ summary : trent is having a quarter life crisis but will a smart-mouthed girl whip him into shape?

⌗ warnings : 18+ only!! (☁️☔️💕)

⌗taglist: @trentswrld, @trentpov @judesvirtual @sailurmewn @football-and-fanfics @eriks-girl @preetykookie @4ngryssgf @endlessmuse @noturbabe22, @sucredreamer @bbgkoo @hollablkgrl @notzara @chrisoppar

Losing to Spurs was one thing. Getting subbed on at half-time just to watch Son curl one into the top corner? That was another level of violation. The gaffer's words still rang in his ears - "need more energy," "push the line higher," all that chat.

Trent slouched in his seat on the team bus, hood pulled up, trying to ignore the quiet murmur of conversations around him. Virgil was giving some interview over the phone about "maintaining perspective" and "focusing on the next match." Easy to say when you'd played the full ninety, wasn't it?

His phone buzzed - probably his mum again, ready with another "head up love" message. Or Tyler wanting to dissect his minutes like they did after every match these days. Or maybe-

April: Nice cameo. At least your legs looked good in those shorts.

His stomach did that weird flip thing again. They hadn't properly talked since that night at Baltic Market, just the occasional message taking the piss out of each other. But every notification from her had him feeling like a kid checking if his crush had texted back.

Trent: Watching me play now are you?

April: Had to see what I'm working with for the shoot next week. April: Though after that performance… might need to rethink the concept. April: Maybe we focus on your face instead 😘

Cheeky. Even after a loss, she was out here trying to wind him up. And the worst part? It was working.

Trent: Getting brave behind that phone aren't you?

April: Always brave baby. You're the one who bottled it at Baltic.

His cheeks heated at the memory. The way she'd mugged him off, leaving him standing there like a sap after he'd suggested going home together. Those curls bouncing as she walked away, that jumpsuit doing criminal things to his imagination. He'd barely slept that night, replaying every moment in his head like some lovesick teenager.

Trent: Didn't bottle anything. You're the one who ran away.

April: That what you think? April: Interesting theory. April: Still thinking about those curls though?

Fuck. Am I that obvious?

The bus hit a pothole, jolting him out of his April-induced trance. Robbo was giving him a weird look from across the aisle, probably wondering why he was grinning at his phone after a loss like that.

"You alright mate? Looking flushed."

"Just tired," Trent muttered, turning back to his phone. But his mind was racing. Had she been playing him this whole time? Testing him maybe? That night at Baltic, the way she'd challenged him about everything - his accent, his image, his career. Like she was trying to see what he was made of.

April: Maker's Studio. Tuesday. 2pm. April: Don't be late.

His brain immediately went places it shouldn't. Especially not on a team bus after a loss, with Robbo's suspicious eyes still on him.

Trent: Still trying to get me naked?

April: Please. April: When I want you naked, you'll know. April: Besides, thought you were scared of my camera?

Christ. The way she could switch from professional to pure trouble in the space of one message. Had him twisted up inside.

The rest of the journey passed in a blur of April's messages and his increasingly frustrated attempts to keep his mind out of the gutter. By the time they pulled into Melwood, he was wound up, thinking about Tuesday and whatever she had planned.

"Trent!" Robbo's voice cut through his thoughts. "You coming or what? Some of us have families to get home to."

"Yeah yeah, give me a minute."

Around him, the lads were gathering their bags, some already heading for their cars. Virgil had finished his interview and was now deep in conversation with Joe about some tactical thing Trent should probably be paying attention to, but his eyes were glued to his screen as three dots appeared.

April: Sweet dreams pretty boy. Try not to think about me too much. April: Though those marks have probably faded by now… April: Shame. Might need to refresh them soon.

His collar suddenly felt too tight. Those hickeys had finally disappeared, but he swore he could still feel where they'd been, like she'd marked him.

"Trent!" Robbo again, now standing over him. "What's got you so distracted? Better not be that OnlyFans girl Ty was warning us about–"

"Shut up," Trent laughed, finally standing up. But his mind was racing. Tuesday couldn't come fast enough.

Back in his car, he sat for a moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Fuck it.

Trent: Only if you promise to aim lower this time.

April: Is that a challenge, Alexander-Arnold? April: Because you should know by now… April: I never back down from those.

Too late for that whole 'not thinking about her' thing, wasn't it?

The drive home was a blur of streetlights and his mind wandering to dangerous places. Whatever she had planned, whatever game she was playing… he was all in.

His phone buzzed one last time as he pulled into his driveway.

April: PS - Wear pants that fit you well. April: Since that's all I'm letting you keep on.

Fucking hell.

Even the loss to Spurs didn't sting as much anymore. How could it, when all he could think about was Tuesday and whatever chaos April had in store for him?

He was starting to live for that chaos. Starting to crave it, even. The way she kept him on his toes, never knowing if she was going to build him up or tear him down.

Maybe Tyler had been right. Maybe he did need someone who didn't treat him like TAA, Liverpool's golden boy. Someone who saw past all that and still wanted to take the piss.

Or maybe he was just twisted. Either way, Tuesday couldn't come soon enough.

Nothing like a 4-0 against Accrington Stanley to get your head right. Trent's goal was still playing on repeat in his mind - caught it sweet from outside the box, right into the top bins. Even had the Kop singing his name again.

The rental space April had found was fancy, all modern art on exposed brick walls and windows bigger than his first flat. Tyler had been in his ear all week about their "creative direction" or whatever, but Trent wasn't worried about all that. He was more focused on April's texts that had been driving him insane - little digs about oiling him up for the camera, asking if he'd been doing his crunches.

When he walked in, she was bent over her camera setup, wearing ripped jeans that should've been illegal and some massive Rolling Stones jumper that kept slipping off one shoulder. Her hair was trying to escape its bun, curls going everywhere like they had a mind of their own.

"Look who finally showed up," she said without looking up. "Heard you had yourself a game yesterday."

"Scored an absolute worldie, didn't I?"

"Against Accrington Stanley." Now she did look up, that smirk playing at her lips. "My nan could score against them."

There was a clothes rack in the corner - nothing fancy, just basic stuff. No designer labels or statement pieces. Dead simple, like she was trying to strip away all the flash.

"Strip," she said, still fiddling with her camera.

"What?"

"Just your shirt, you idiot. Unless…" She looked up now, those eyes dancing with mischief. "You still bricking it?"

"Not scared of anything, me." He pulled his shirt off, trying to act casual while her eyes did a slow crawl over his chest that had his skin burning.

"Shame about the locs though," she said suddenly, tilting her head. "Why'd you cut them?"

The question caught him off guard. No one ever asked that - they just assumed he was "cleaning up his image" or whatever other bullshit the papers came up with.

"Just fancied a change," he shrugged, but April's eyes narrowed.

"Nah, there's more to it. The way your jaw just tensed? Dead giveaway."

He sighed, running a hand over his shorter hair. "Just got tired of the comments. 'Bit urban for Liverpool's golden boy' and all that shit."

"Ah." Her face softened slightly. "The classic microaggressions. Get that a lot myself in this industry. 'You're so well-spoken' and all that."

"Yeah well… get enough of that without the locs. Too black for some, not black enough for others. Proper mad how everyone's got an opinion on what you should be when you're mixed."

"'Are you black or like… black black?'" April mimicked, rolling her eyes. "Or my personal favorite - 'you must get your creativity from your white side.'"

Trent snorted. "Mad how they think being mixed means you can't be fully anything. Like my mum being white somehow cancels out everything else."

"Society's fucked, isn't it?" April picked up her camera. "But at least you've got good bone structure. Now turn left a bit - need to catch that jawline properly."

Just like that, she was back to business. But something had shifted slightly. Like they'd recognized something in each other, some shared experience that went beyond the flirting and banter.

"These aren't going to be too artistic, are they?" he asked as she adjusted his pose. "Don't fancy seeing my face in some gallery."

"Nah, just clean shots. Show the real you, not what everyone expects Liverpool's golden boy to be."

The way she said it - mocking but understanding at the same time. Like she got it. Got him.

Maybe that's why it was so easy to relax around her, even half-naked in front of her camera. She saw past all the labels, all the expectations. Saw him as just… Trent.

"Hold that pose," April said, then paused. "Isn't your dad's Jamaican?"

"Yeah, family's in Kingston. Why?"

Her grin widened. "Wag wan then, bredrin?"

"Yuh dun know," Trent laughed, genuinely surprised. "Your people yard too?"

"Mum's family's from Portmore. Small world, huh?" She snapped a few more shots. "No wonder you can handle the spice. Though that accent's proper scouse."

The shoot wrapped quicker than he expected, April's efficiency matching her chat. She gestured him over to her laptop, flicking through the raw shots.

"Need some editing obviously, but…"

"Nah these are sick." And they were - nothing pretentious or artsy, just him looking… real. Natural.

"Could be better if you'd gotten naked though."

Trent's head snapped up, but she was already packing away her gear, that mischievous smirk playing at her lips.

"Still on about that?"

"Always." She turned, properly looking at him now. "You trying to get in my pants too, Alexander-Arnold?"

"Maybe."

"Bold. I'm a wild girl though." Her voice dropped lower, all that playful energy suddenly gone. This wasn't April the photographer anymore, or even April taking the piss. This was something else entirely - a warning and an invitation all at once.

"I'm a wild boy."

She actually laughed at that, but it wasn't her usual take-the-piss laugh. This was darker, like she knew something he didn't. "Please. You couldn't handle me."

"Try me."

The words came out more confident than he felt, but fuck it. Something about the way she was looking at him - like a cat that had cornered its prey but was deciding whether to play with it first.

"Okay," she shrugged, but those eyes were pure danger now. "I warned you though. Free this weekend?"

His heart actually skipped. Proper teenage behavior. "Yeah."

"I'll text you then." She shouldered her bag, that predatory smile still playing at her lips. Every movement calculated, like she knew exactly what she was doing to his head. "Try not to think about me too much until then."

Too late for that, wasn't it?

He watched her walk away, remembering how she'd left him hanging at Baltic Market. But this time felt different. This time she wasn't testing him - she was hunting him.

And fuck him if he didn't want to be caught.

The address April sent him was in some dodgy part of London he'd never been to before. Like proper sketch - the kind of place his Range Rover looked well out of place. No restaurants nearby, no posh shops, just warehouses and old buildings with blacked-out windows.

23B Blackwall Lane.

No sign. No queue. Just a massive guy in black standing outside a door that looked like it hadn't been opened since the 80s.

"ID," the guard grunted. Then, after checking it: "Arms up."

"You taking the piss?"

But no, man actually started patting him down like he was going through customs. Christ. What had April gotten him into?

"Miss Goodplenty's guest?" A woman appeared, all long hair and red lipstick. Looked out of place against the grimy walls.

"Yeah."

She handed him a tablet. "Sign these."

"What am I signing?"

"Non-disclosure agreement. And a waiver stating the club isn't responsible for any... injuries."

Any what now?

His eyes scanned the document. Words like "consensual" and "physical activity" and "binding agreement" jumped out at him.

Fucking hell.

But he'd already come this far, hadn't he? And something about the way April had added cheeky emojis when she sent the address... like she knew exactly what she was doing to his head.

He signed.

The door opened to darkness and bass so heavy he could feel it in his chest. As his eyes adjusted, he realized where he was.

Oh.

OH.

Real sus that April hadn't mentioned this was a sex club.

Bodies everywhere - some clothed, some... definitely not. Red lights casting shadows that left just enough to the imagination. Private rooms with heavy curtains. A dance floor that looked more like an orgy waiting to happen.

His phone buzzed.

April: Third floor. Room 7.

April: Don't keep me waiting.

April: And don't look so scared, pretty boy. Nobody bites.

April: Unless you ask nicely 😘

Christ.

Trent's designer shirt and jeans felt about as subtle as a police siren in this place. Everyone else was either half-naked or dressed in leather. Some woman walked past in what looked like actual diamonds and not much else. Just walking around tits and pussy out like this was just another Saturday.

A waitress appeared at his elbow - a pin-up model type in lingerie and a garter belt that left nothing to the imagination. "Drink?"

"Uh..." Real smooth, that.

"First time?" She smiled knowingly, adjusting stockings. "Don't worry love, everyone's nervous their first night."

Another waitress drifted past balancing a tray of champagne, wearing what had to be vintage Agent Provocateur and heels that could probably kill a man. The whole place was like some mad fever dream - all red velvet and gold accents and women who looked like they'd stepped out of a 1950s Playboy.

His phone buzzed again.

April: You look proper lost down there 😂

April: Still waiting...

April: Unless you're too scared?

Cheeky girl was watching him. He looked up, trying to spot her, but the upper floors were all shadows and private booths.

A couple stumbled past him, giggling, clothes disheveled. What was April playing at, bringing him here?

His phone lit up one more time.

April: Tick tock, Alexander-Arnold.

April: Or should I find someone else to play with?

That got his feet moving. Third floor. Room 7.

What kind of posh sex club didn't have lifts? The staircase was all Victorian gothic, wrought iron railings and dim lighting that cast weird shadows on the walls. Some couple was going at it against the wall between the first and second floor, and Trent had to squeeze past them like it was normal. Could hear all sorts through the doors he passed - moans and music and what sounded like... was that a whip?

His legs were burning by the second floor. Each step revealed more sounds he'd rather not think about. Weird how normal everyone seemed about it all - like they were at some dinner party instead of... whatever this was.

Room 7 had a fancy door, all dark wood and gold numbers. His knuckles had barely touched it when it swung open.

"Wow- I- April..." His brain short-circuited completely.

The leather outfit she wore gave him a clear view of the tops of her breasts and had various cutouts throughout that showed glimpses of her skin. Her curls were wilder than usual, framing her face like some kind of dark halo.

"It's Madam here," she said curtly, stepping aside to let him in.

Madam?

The room was nothing like he'd expected. Luxe with some BDSM type stuff hanging on the wall, a chaise in a corner, and massive windows overlooking the club below. A small dining table was set up in one corner, complete with fancy china and champagne on ice.

"Sit," she gestured to the chair near the window. "How are you feeling?"

"Bit shocked if I'm honest." He could see the dance floor below, bodies moving in the dim light.

That laugh again - the same one from their first meeting, breaking through her stern façade. "Told you I was a wild girl, didn't I?" She moved closer, her voice dropping low enough to make his skin tingle. "Still think you're a wild boy?"

For once in his life, Trent Alexander-Arnold was speechless.

"You're just green," she smiled, something softer in her eyes now. "When we get started on some things, you'll be fine." His eyes must've gone wide because she laughed again. "Not tonight obviously." She settled into the chair opposite him. "Tonight we talk, have dinner. Very vanilla. I'll tell you all the dirty things I like, you tell me yours. And then if you want to keep it going, we can."

"And if I don't?" His voice came out steadier than he felt.

"Then you leave," she shrugged. "We never have to bring it up again. Just continue on with our work relationship."

Simple as that. Except nothing about April had ever been simple, had it?

"So how'd you get into all this?" Trent asked, watching as April poured them both some champagne.

"Photography or the other stuff?" Her eyes glinted mischievously.

"You know which one."

"Same way anyone finds their thing, I suppose." She settled in her chair. "Tried it, loved it, kept going. Speaking of..." She tilted her head, studying him. "Those marks I left on you. How'd that make you feel?"

The champagne suddenly felt thick in his throat. "I... liked them."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Proper liked them actually."

"Mmm." She took a slow sip of champagne. "Tell me how you usually are then. In bed."

"I take charge mostly," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Do the leading and that."

"So you do the bending?" She smirked over her glass.

"Yeah."

"But does that satisfy you? Like for real?" Her foot found his leg under the table, sliding up slowly. "Does it feel amazing you taking all of the control or..." she paused, watching his reaction, "do you need someone to be in charge sometimes?"

He laughed nervously, hand tightening around his glass. "Never thought about it before. I mean I do like little choke while I stroke but nothing like..." he gestured around the room.

"Okay so this can be your last visit here."

"You'll do that?" The words came out before he could stop them.

"Yeah," she said softly, something genuine breaking through her dominant persona. "It's about your pleasure too, Trent."

Mother of Christ.

"I should probably tell you what I'm into," April continued, leaning forward slightly. "I'm a dom - that means I like control. All of it."

"Like what you did with the..." Trent gestured to his neck.

"Marking you up? That's just the start. I like restraints, commands, proper domination." She studied his face. "You said you like choking?"

"Yeah," he admitted, feeling his face heat. "Gets me proper going."

"What else?"

"I dunno... never really explored much. Been curious though."

"About?"

"Just... different things. Being told what to do maybe." He couldn't believe he was saying this out loud.

"Good," she smiled. "Because I'm not a switch."

"A what?"

"Someone who goes back and forth between dom and sub. When we're in the bedroom, I'm in charge. Simple as that."

His mouth felt dry. "And if I wanted to try..."

"We start slow. Build trust. But first," she leaned back, "you need to get checked."

"What?"

"Full panel. I don't do condoms."

His eyes went wide. "Raw? That's..." Risky. Mental. Completely hot. "Actually one of my fantasies."

"Of course it is," she laughed. "You're such a boy. But yes - once we're both cleared, no barriers between us."

His brain was already going places it shouldn't.

"You're thinking about it now, aren't you?" That predatory smile was back.

"Maybe."

"Good. Keep thinking about it. But remember..." she stood up, moving behind his chair. Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

A knock at the door made Trent jump slightly. April just smirked, crossing the room with that confident stride that had his eyes following her every move.

The same pin-up waitress from downstairs wheeled in a proper feast - some posh looking steak for him, seafood linguine for April.

"You ordered for me?"

"I do that sometimes." She settled back in her chair. "Part of the whole control thing. Problem?"

He cut into the steak - perfectly medium rare, exactly how he liked it. "Nah, this is actually mad good."

"Course it is. Already figured out what you like, haven't I?"

Something about the way she said it made his stomach flip. She had been watching him, hadn't she? Learning his habits, his preferences. Even that first night at the party, she'd known exactly how to push his buttons.

"So what else you got figured out about me then?"

"Plenty." She twirled pasta around her fork. "Like how you pretend to be this proper confident footballer, but really..." her foot found his leg again, "you're curious about giving up that control."

His breath caught. Mad how she could read him like that.

"Tell me more about what you're into," he said, trying to regain some composure. "Like, what should I expect?"

"Already thinking ahead?" That devilish smile was back. "Well, I told you - I'm a dom. I like control, discipline, watching someone submit to me completely."

The way she said it - like she was discussing the weather - had his head spinning.

"But it's not just about the physical stuff," she continued. "It's about trust. Power exchange. Like how you trusted me to order your food. Small things building up to bigger ones."

"What kind of bigger ones?"

"Patience," she smirked. "We'll get there. But first..." She leaned forward, those eyes locked on his. "Tell me more about these fantasies of yours. The raw thing got you excited."

"Just... yeah." He felt his face heat up. "Something about it being bare. More intimate like."

"Mmm. And the choking? You said you've done that before?"

"Bit of it, yeah. Nothing major though."

"And how'd that make you feel?"

"Good, I guess?" He paused, thinking. "But sometimes... sometimes I wonder what it'd be like–"

"Having someone control you?" Her voice dropped lower. "Tell you what to do? When you can move, when you can speak... when you can cum?"

Fucking hell.

"We'd start slow," she added, watching his reaction. "Build up to things. I'm not about to throw you in the deep end."

"What would we start with then?"

"Simple commands. Teaching you how to follow orders. Maybe some light bondage if you're good." She said it so casual, like she was planning a training session instead of... whatever this was.

"And if I'm not good?"

That predatory smile was back. "Then you get punished."

My Lord in heaven.

"You're thinking about it again," she observed, sliding her foot higher up his leg. "I can see it in your eyes. The way you're gripping that fork."

He hadn't even realized how tense he was.

"Finish your food," she commanded softly. "We've got more to discuss."

And fuck him if his body didn't respond immediately to that tone. Like it already knew who was in charge.

"Yes..." he hesitated.

"Madam," she supplied, eyes glinting. "Better get used to saying that."

"Yes, Madam."

Something in her expression shifted - pleased, almost proud. Made his chest do weird things.

"Good boy."

Those two words shouldn't have affected him like that. But here he was, squirming in his chair from just her voice and praise. Did he also have a thing for that too?

"I think," she said, watching him eat, "we're going to have a lot of fun together. Once you're checked and cleared, of course."

"How long's that usually take?"

"Eager, are we?" She laughed. "Few days for the results. Then..." her foot reached his thigh and his dick hardened, "we can properly begin."

The rest of dinner passed in a haze of loaded looks and subtle touches. April kept dropping little hints about what she had planned, each one making his head spin more than the last.

By the time they finished eating, Trent felt like he was burning up from the inside. Everything felt heightened - the brush of her hand as she reached for the champagne, the way her lips curved around each word, how her eyes never left him even when the waitress came to clear their plates.

"Time for you to go," she said finally, standing up. "Got an early meeting tomorrow."

"That's it?"

"For now." She moved closer, close enough that he could smell that spiced vanilla again. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

"No," he said quickly. Maybe too quickly, based on her knowing smile.

"Good. I'll text you the details for getting checked. And Trent?"

"Yeah?"

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear: "Don't touch yourself tonight. That's your first command."

His whole body went hot. "And if I do?"

"Then I'll know." She pulled back, those eyes dancing with mischief. "And the punishment will be... memorable."

Fucking hell.

What had he gotten himself into?

But as he made his way back down those stairs, past all the sounds and sights that had shocked him earlier, Trent couldn't stop grinning.

Whatever this was - whatever April had planned for him - he was all in.

Even if it ruined him in the end.

…………..tbd

[harryhighkey]

hungover with in-ho

headcanons of a morning with a hungover fem!reader and her older bf hwang in-ho

this is different from what i normally do but wanted to try it out, lmk what you think pls!

__________

you would wake up to the aircon a few degrees cooler than normal, but the blanket and sheets are tight around you, so you're cosy. in-ho is very observant and knows you sleep better with a cooler temp in the air but kept warm by bedding. he wanted to make sure you got a good sleep when you finally got in last night so he made sure the room was cool before tucking you in.

you open your eyes and see your water bottle is on the bedside table filled with icy cold water, a box of painkillers sit beside it for the hungover headache in-ho was sure you were going to wake up with after how drunk you were. you take two pills and gulp it down with water. you sigh in relief at the cold water coating your throat and treat yourself to some more mouth-fulls. you think about getting up but you're not ready, instead you drop your head back to the pillow and groan at how hungover you feel.

because you slept in late, in-ho is already up. he's still in the clothes he went to bed in. he's tired from waiting up for you, drinking a coffee in the kitchen. but as he hears the sound of your water bottle being placed down followed by you groaning he comes back to the bedroom. he's annoyed with you. you left yesterday at 2:52pm and had told him you were only going out for a few drinks with friends and would be back in a few hours. then you got home at 3:24am. you'd also completely ignored your phone the whole night, which meant all of in-ho's texts and calls had gone unanswered. you didn't do it on purpose, you were just drunk and having fun with your friends.

"what happened to 'just a few drinks'?" you open your eyes again at the sound of your boyfriend and roll onto your back to see him standing beside the bed. he doesn't sound happy and his face matches his pissed off tone. your voice is whiny and croaky from just waking up as you answer him. "don't be mad at me, i don't feel well." he almost folds. almost. but he's been harbouring over this all night and morning. "i was worried. you didn't answer your phone once. do you have any idea how many times i called? i had no idea what you were doing, if you were safe-" "in-ho, please." you interrupt him, lifting the sheets and pulling them over your head to hide away.

he'd get back into the bed then, determined to let you know last night wasn't okay. he's extremely overprotective when it comes to you, that paired with his control issues had him panicking last night. he grabs the sheets to see your face again but you keep them locked over your head. you both know he could overpower you, so you speak out instead. "you can come under and talk, but you have to whisper under here, it's the one sacred under the sheet rule."

he rolls his eyes and sighs. but because he loves you, he gives into your game. he's still annoyed but your silly act of defiance has softened his resolve slightly. he joins you under the sheets, both of you now laying on your sides and facing each other. you know he's angry at you so you're trying not to laugh at your older boyfriend giving into your playful suggestion. he sees the smile you're trying to hide and then it's his turn to try not to laugh. you crack first, your laugh sounding out and his does right after. you are sunshine to him, even annoyed at you, he finds it impossible to not be lit up by you.

"come here." he snakes his arms around you and pulls you into him, you easily melt against him, your hands coming to his face as you kiss. it's intense, firm but quick. your lips come apart with a smack.

you keep your hands on his face, your fingertips leaving tiny patterns into his skin as he talks. you watch as he frowns again, this time it wasn't complete anger, it was also out of stress. "i was worried about you." subconsciously, his arms tighten around you. you nod. you explain to him what happened, how you honestly just lost track of time. he scolds you for not sending him an update that you would be out late, ending it with a "...i have to know you're safe, baby."

"i promise next time i will." you assure him. "next time?!" he's already stressing over the thought of you out drunk into all hours of the night again.

you distract him by kissing him again. it turns heated quickly, his hands slipping under your shirt.

between kisses and skilful hand movements, you now find yourself under him, topless. "we better get out of these sheets, you're about to do a lot more than whisper, my girl."

it's lucky the aircon is still set at a lower temp than normal because you two build up quite a sweat once you're both naked and you & in-ho spend the rest of what's left of the morning with him buried inside of you.