#i burned out like before i started this purely on figuring out how to draw frisk. not the design but sketch and shape. i dont even know why

[premamelody]

revised frisk flowey design plus monster kid feature

the gang

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. a love so cold.

about. as the seasons start to change, satoru gojo figures out a new way to keep you warm on colder mornings.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. smut, somnophilia, soft morning sex, oral sex (f!receiving), brief mention of gojo and reader being married, lovey lovey lovey dovey dovey dovey stuff !! fem!reader.

gojo waking you up on a cold morning by diving between your thighs.

sure the duvet is long abandoned and your (his) shirt is pushed up to expose your pebbled nipples to the frosty air — but it’s the heat of his tongue salaciously rolling through your puffy folds that keep you nice and warm.

satoru breathes hot air against your pulsing mount, his lips encircling your clit as he sucks it, kisses it and makes out with it as if he’s making out with you. every time he moans into your heat, he draws a shrill sound from deep in your chest that pierces the solace of autumn’s silence. your whines echo along with the sway of rustling tree leaves and gojo’s hungry growls provide the bass of your seasonal tune.

he’s a sight for sore eyes between your shaky thighs that knock the blankets from your king sized bed. his blue eyes blaze bright enough to rival the subtle hue of the morning sky breaking through the curtains of night. it’s always darker this time of year. and his pale white locks, astray and askew, remind you that it might snow once winter comes.

“sa..satoru!” you exclaim though your voice is hoarse from not having been used in hours. the last thing you’d said was that you loved him — you think that you might love him even more right now. mouth on your sluice and syrupy slit, sucking the very juices from their place between your pussy lips. your fingers dance down to grip the roots of his hair, settled against his scalp like snow on sturdy ground. you don’t tug yet, only using his head to ground yourself. “sa…satoru—oh!”

your lips move to form the syllables of his name — though they’re lost on you when the ecstasy he builds up within you, by tacking his tongue to your clit in tight circles, starts a fire in your lower pelvis. that very same fire burns it’s way through your body like a forest fire, effectively warming you up from the inside out. it keeps going, consuming your every nerve ending until it reaches the base of your lungs and all you can breathe is the smoke of satoru gojo.

“good morning to you too, sweetheart,” satoru sings into your cunt in amusement. his voice holds the tenderness of an early morning greeting before he delves back into tasting you — slurping and sucking up and down the length of your slit before slipping his tongue into your quivering hole. his chin juts forward rhythmically, as if to fuck you with the pink appendage like it’s his cock.

he watches your face with adoration as it twists and scrunches and morphs into pure bliss. he loves that about you, how expressive you are — how your body follows his lead even if it’s too cold for you to stop shaking. he’ll warm you up. he always does.

“you don’t have to say it back, i know, baby. you’re just too tired, too close to even speak—“ gojo doesn’t get a chance to finish, not before your fingers twist in his roots as his tongue twists and wiggles against your sloppy, ribbed wall. it travels along your pleasure spots — the ones only he knows about, and maps out even more for next time. but any praise or condescension he has saved for you is lost and muffled against your sex as you rut your hips down on his handsome face.

“‘m close… gonna… haf’ta—!”

finally finding your voice despite the smoke-like aphrodisiac in your lungs — you succumb to the heat. the hotness of satoru’s mouth on you, his fingers sinking into your hips to keep you on his face, the lust that prickles just below the surface of your skin. you cum just as the winter birds break the silence with their own morning calls, as the sun breaks through grey-ish and intimidating clouds. you gush all over satoru, your lover and protector, with a high pitch and whistle tone wail — head thrown back into the pillows and your lips parted ever so slightly.

his white brows knit together in the centre of his forehead, mocking your dazed and needy expression. however, it’s clear he’s just as love and sex and pussy drunk on you as you might be on him. satoru results to gulping down the stormy waves of your orgasm with unbridled greed. as of what you offer him is the finest of wines or the last thing he’ll ever drink.

those pretty blue eyes are overcome with a haze as he drinks you down, dazed and content to just have a taste of you. satoru’s tongue makes its laps through your folds to make sure he doesn’t waist a drop — wolffish grunts and groans and sounds like ‘mph’ or ‘mhm’ reverberate between your thighs until he’s done cleaning you up. only adding to your shakes and shivers.

not from the cold, but from how hard you’ve cum.

“you… mph, taste so— fucking good, baby.” he huffs, breathless from nearly suffocating himself to get a taste of you. gojo dares to dive back in, but you tug on his hair once more and force him to look up into your pleading eyes.

“‘toru,” you whisper, lashes fluttering innocently, voice still shaky and hoarse. “good morning.”

you need him, up there with you.

his face breaks out into a slow and sexy smile — kissing up your body, over your naval and between the valley of your breasts, against your neck and chin until he reaches your lips. he kisses you gently then and his entire body sits between your thighs.

“good morning, beautiful.” he sighs, content. he cups your face gently to keep you looking at him, his wedding band glistening more than what you’ve left on his chin.

you hum, feeling his body heat simmer over you along with what’s left of the arousal in your system while it simmers down. “you’re insatiable, you know that?”

“but you love me.”

“i suppose so.”

“ouch, sweetheart. so cold.” gojo pouts, faux hurt laced with his teasing voice.

and in that moment, you wrap your legs around his unfairly slender waist and flip the man so that you end up on top — straddling the great satoru gojo and planting your hands on his the centre of his blistering hot chest.

there’s a glint in your eye, the flicker of a lustful flame that only serves to set satoru’s heart alight while you press your sticky sex down on him.

“then let me do the honours of warming you back up, my love.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3

As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.

At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.

You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.

One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.

"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.

You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.

"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.

He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.

"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.

"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.

"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.

"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."

You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.

************************************************************************

The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.

"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.

"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."

Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.

"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.

You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.

"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.

As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.

"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.

And he always gave into you.

So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.

"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?

"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"

The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.

"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.

"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.

As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.

[owlcomics101]

”New Master.” Demon!Taskforce 141 x Human!Reader

Warnings: 15+ (Slightly suggestive but nothing NSFW I’m a minor), Gore, blood, drinking, smoking, cult stuff, demons, (I do not condone any of these things), Reader is gender neutral

GIF credits: (All in order and on tumblr) ekscelsior, eurodynamic, collinnmckinley, deactivated account. (Some of these users are MDNI so please leave them alone if your under 18 like me I’m just crediting them)

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

You were trapped in a dark room. Your hands tied behind your back-ropes digging into your wrists almost to the bone. You body aches and burns, the back of your head throbs it felt like you were hit by a truck, though apart of wishes it was actually a truck. You hear whispering around you until a match ignites and lights a candle in front of you. You were then greeted to masked hooded figures with strange symbols on their clothes and body’s that you couldn’t quite make out.

“Are you ready little lamb?” The hooded figure in front of you asked that sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine. You began to weakly thrash as your eyes dart around the room-taking in all blood stained paintings among the walls, body parts on display for the world to see and were still dripping with blood. All the other hooded figure’s eyes were on you and that’s when you realized; you’re in a cult, but not as a member…you were being sacrificed.

“Come now, don’t be scared…” The hooded figure in-front of you said as they slowly pulled out a knife whose handle was coated in pure gold that seemed to have never been cleaned. You couldn’t help but wonder how many innocent people they sacrificed for whatever god or…creature they worship.

“You’re going to make the world so much better…” Another cult member said as they walked over with a book in hand, slowly opening up and trying to look for the right page. Other cult members circled you. The hooded figure in-front of you took the sacrificial knife and cut your thigh open. You let out muffled cries of pain through tape muffling your mouth. The other cult members one by one dipped their fingers into your open wound and used your blood to start drawing a pentagram on the ground. You squirmed and screamed in pure agony as they continued to use your blood as nothing but paint to aid them in their fucked up drawing. The hooded figure slowly licked your blood off the dagger with a smirk on their face. They watch tears stream down your face and dripping off your chin.

“Shhh…” The hooded figure was quick to hush you as they were given a strange book by another cult member.

“Quiet now and be still, it’ll all be over soon little lamb.” The hooded figure reassured you, but you weren’t reassured at all. No one sane was here to witness your death. No one outside could hear you scream. No one knew where you are. No one is going to come to save you. You closed your eyes as you began to hear the cult chant. Maybe if you closed your eyes hard enough, you’d wake up back in your bed. Back at your rundown apartment and hearing the rain hit the roof and drip into a bucket in the corner of your room, but that hope vanished as you felt the blade press against your neck-only bearly grazing your skin. This was it. You were going to die.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Then It was quiet…and cold. Was this it? Were you finally dead? No. You could still feel and hear your heart pounding in your chest, you could feel the blood still gushing out of your thigh, your limbs burning from the ropes rubbing against them, and your head was still throbbing, but you could no longer feel the blade-just the small graze on your neck from it. You were afraid to open your eyes at first. Would the cult still be there? Are they just waiting for you to open your eyes so they could see the life drain out of them? You were hesitant at first, but slowly opened one eye before opening the others. You immediately regretted it. You were met with dozens of mutilated corpses of the cult members. Some of their bodies were twisted in ways that made them look inhuman. While others were missing all kinds of body parts. Your breathing grew heavy, your skin went pale from both the blood loss and the horror of it all. Your lips parted as you were getting ready to scream again but all that came out was just a choked raspy sob. You then heard voices from afar. Was it the surviving cult members? Maybe the cops? You knew it was a risk but you squirmed around and let out muffled screams to get the voice’s attention, but you were met with figures that weren’t….human. Four demons stood before you. Their features coming to light as they stepped closer to the light of the candles. One demon had a strange short Mohawk with two large horns that curved backwards like a goat’s, two large wings flexing, pointed ears with small hooped earrings at the bottom of them, and a long forked tail that swayed back and forth.

“Och, looks lik' we forgot yin. Ah jalouse oor master left us a bawherr plaything…” The demon that the other demons called ‘Soap’ or Johnny said. His accent was so thick that you couldn’t quite make any of his words out.

“God are succubuses always this horny?” Another demon spoke up. This demon was wingless, and had more snake like features, he had ram-like horns that curved downwards and a tail with a snake’s head at the end of it. This demon goes by Gaz.

“Quiet ya muppets.” This demon’s voice was deep and booming. He had crackled horns that curled outwards like a bull, large wings that are torn at the webbing with the upper half of a human skull that coved his face. The skull wielded demon was only ever called Ghost.

“Ah, relax Ghost, we just havin’ a we bit of fun.” The succubus smirked. His words becoming a bit more clearer to your ears as he crouches down in front of you. You flinch and squirm as the demon licks at the deep cut in your thigh.

“Wheres our bloody master anywa-“ The succubus was cut off by getting yanked by the horns and shoved away. A low hiss escapes his lips as the fourth and final demon approaches and kneels down before you.

“Right here.” He says bluntly. His voice gruff and cold which sent shivers down your spine as he moves your head to the side-taking a look at a strange symbol that somehow appeared on the side of your neck. This demon didn’t really have as much demonic features as the others, he seemed the most..human looking besides a pair of horns, sharp fangs and…white feather patches here and there on his body. The three other demons call this one Price. He seemed like the head of the group. The leader.

”What? Them!?” Gaz shouts before scanning your form and looking back to Price. “No offense, but they seemed like they were supposed to be our sacrifice.

“Doesn’t matter.” Price says as he pulls the tape from your mouth and cutting through the rope with his clawed hands.

“This is the mark is it not?” Price says as he makes you tilt your head to the side and expose your neck for all the others to see. Their eyes widening at the strange symbol on your neck.*

“Dammit.” Gaz mutters.

“Fecking hell.” Ghost said with a growl, shoving past Soap and Gaz. His large frame towering over you as he watched Price pick you up and carry you bridal style.

“What would you like us to do Master?” Price whispered to you, his voice hushed and his warm breath hitting your ear.

“……M-Master….?” You finally spoke, your works slurring as every thing starts to blur for you. The four demons waited for orders but their eyes widened as you immediately slumped and leaned into Price’s shoulder-burying your face into the crook of his neck as exhaustion had finally taken over. Everything started to go dark from there. Your vision blurred, voices began to muffle. You were finally going to rest. Yes, maybe you can sleep all this away and everything will be back to normal in the morning.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

You begin to stir from your slumber, your heavy eyes slowly scan your surroundings. You’re back in your room.

”…See? Just a dream.” You mumble to yourself with a sluggish smile of relief. It was more like a fucked nightmare but a dream nonetheless. You were about to sit up and stretch when you had a weird feeling washing over you. You felt like you were being watched. The thought of being watched gave you goosebumps along your skin but you tried to blame it on paranoia from the nightmare you just had. You forced yourself to sit up. Your right thigh feeling painfully sore for some reason. You pull the covers off to see what was going on only to find a large gash in your thigh, but it was now all healed and scarred. Your eyes widened as your face paled in horror. It wasn’t a dream, and if it wasn’t a dream then that means-

“No, no, no-“ Suddenly something large jumped onto your bed and slowly crawled on top of you with wings spread out wide and a devilish smirk on its face.

“Good morning Master!” Soap yelled out to you.

[yoonia]

overdrive (m) | B.I

⤑ Summary | As his personal manager who always works closely with him in both his professional activities and private matters, it has become one of your duties to cater to his needs, to always be on his beck and call, even if you have to put aside your own needs to please him.

⤑ Title | Overdrive ⤑ Pairings | Kim Hanbin (B.I) x female reader ⤑ Genre | PWP, Smut, Artist/Musician!B.I, Manager!reader ⤑ Word count | 13,345 words

⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; involves mature and explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, groping, stripping/nudity, breast play, hand job, oral sex (male receiving/blowjob), deepthroating, unprotected sex, public sex, tour bus sex, accidental voyeurism, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling (on both), edging, begging, swearing, breast play, nipple play, panty ripping, fingering, clit play, finger licking, cum tasting/eating, cum swallowing, biting, light restraint, implied creampie, panty biting(?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, body worshipping.

⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story is purely a work of fiction, with the usage of artist’s/idol’s names as fictional characters. Any similarities in the usage of names for other characters and circumstances are purely coincidental. | PS. This is only roughly edited, but I hope you’ll still enjoy reading the story. 

It feels like only moments ago this place was thriving with raw energy.

Loud music was blasting through the speakers, while the sounds of fans screaming his name and singing along to his song echoed through the entire venue. Everyone and every part of this place came alive as Hanbin took control of the stage with his mere presence. 

You can almost see him still being there as you look over at the stage, commanding it with his music. You still remember how he kept everyone completely entranced with his alluring voice and hypnotising moves. What he did on stage was pure magic. 

And that magic must have been strong enough that you can still picture him doing his thing on that empty stage. You can still feel his presence even after the lights have been turned off and the crowd has long since left this place to return home. 

Thinking about him like this makes your body burn hot. 

Your heartbeat starts racing the same way it did earlier while you were standing by the side of the stage, watching him move his body to the music. After spending the past year working with him and then joining him on this tour, the reactions he inflicts on you no longer surprise you. 

He captivates you in ways that you can never possibly explain. That you have never experienced before. 

Even once the music has stopped, once his performance has long ended and there are no more of his lively audience around you dancing and screaming his name, you can still feel everything. 

Even without the music, its vibration seems to linger. Still reverberates through the air around you and you can feel it deep within your body. As if the space around you is still humming with his presence even in the silence that remains.

“You’re still here?” a voice calls out, drawing your attention away from the empty stage and out of your thoughts right before they begin to dive into a different, slightly darker place. The road manager comes to your side. The man appears just as exhausted as you are—perhaps even more, knowing what he is required to do before and after these shows—yet he still has a big smile on his face as he greets you. 

“Yeah, I just met up with the promoter, so I figured I’d check in to see how you guys are doing while I’m still around,” you try to make up excuses. Not that he would start questioning further. “How’s everything going?” 

The road manager begins explaining everything—from all the tasks that the road crew had just completed and how they are handing the rest to the local staff. Skipping all the technical details that you have no business with except to report back to Hanbin later. 

Much later.

Once you are done with your actual responsibilities. 

As Hanbin’s personal manager who normally handles his private needs, keeping watch of the road crew dismantling the stage equipment and the stereo system isn’t really a part of your duty in the first place. Especially when there aren’t really that many things they would need to cover in these indoor venues. Getting to know what they are doing isn't even the reason why you still remain here after the show is over. 

You are simply buying time before returning back to him. Which is what you probably should be doing already now that everything else has been taken care of. 

“Everything is packed and ready to go. I think the boys are planning to join the dance crew and grab dinner somewhere nearby, then we’ll be out of here before midnight,” the road manager continues as he walks with you towards the backdoor of the venue. “How about you join us?” 

His offer catches you off guard, yet you quickly refuse. “No, thank you, you guys go ahead. I still have some things to do, so I’ll figure something out later.” 

Just as you are heading towards the exit, you are met with the guys from the dance crew, and Hanbin’s close friends, coming in from the parking lot. Most of them look freshly showered, having found the time to freshen up after getting heated from the show. They all give you a friendly greeting once they notice you there, while Shawn, one of the dancers, steps closer to you to say hi. 

You look over his shoulder to confirm that Hanbin isn’t with them. 

Noticing this, he immediately says to you in a low voice, “Hanbin’s back in the bus. Said he wanted to chill and take it easy for the night. He also said that he’s waiting for you to talk about something.” 

“Ah, I see,” you answer him, trying to stay calm about it when your heart is palpitating at the thought of Hanbin waiting for you to come and see him. 

Alone. 

Which only means one thing—

“We’re heading out to get some food and maybe find some snacks and drinks for the road. Should we get you guys something to eat too?” Shawn kindly offers. You can only smile and nod while trying your best not to take notice of the way he speaks, or the way he is looking at you knowingly. You also ignore the way he seems to be insinuating something else when he speaks about you and Hanbin. 

As if he knows your little secret and the real reason why Hanbin is expecting you. 

“Sure, that would be lovely. Thanks for offering. He’ll probably skip dinner if you don’t get him something to eat.” 

The dancer grins. “I wouldn’t be too worried about it if I were you.” 

Shawn’s cryptic answer stays with you for a while as you walk away from the group. Yet you try not to let it bother you too much as you start making your way to find Hanbin. 

The night breeze welcomes you as you step out of the establishment. Then the silence thickens around you as you walk across the quiet parking lot. You merely take a moment to breathe in the fresh air around you and pay no heed to everything else, having only one destination in mind. But you make sure to remain within the shadows formed under the line of trees on the edge of the parking lot, keeping away from the fans who might still be lingering around or taking their time leaving the place. 

It doesn’t take long before you start seeing them. 

There are some standing beyond the trees in pairs while others are gathering in small groups. Some appear to be lounging around and resting, no doubt trying to come down from the high that they had all gotten from the concert before tracking their way back home or to their hotels. Others seem to linger without any apparent reason. Perhaps nothing other than hoping to get one last glimpse of Hanbin or get noticed by him and his boys if they would just wait around a bit longer. 

You watch them for a brief moment before continuing your walk across the parking lot. Parked at a dark corner at the far end of the parking lot, it feels like it is taking you forever to finally reach the tour bus. As it they had all the intention to tuck it away and keep it from being seen. 

Once the tour bus appears in your line of sight, your heart stutters. 

Under the night sky and kept in the dark, the vehicle looks almost inconspicuous. It doesn’t draw too much attention even with its size and how out of place it seems to be here. 

Yet it draws something else out of your thoughts as you take a good look at it. 

It brings a smile to your face when you remember how it all started, how Hanbin and his team came up with the idea of travelling between places in such a bus throughout this tour. He sold the idea as a way for him to make the most out of it, to embrace every moment that he could get and be able to visit different places in between. He also talked about his wish to live life like a rockstar while he is on the road—something which was quite alarming and made you worry at first, hence why you have been joining him through the whole tour.

So far, it has been rare for you to join him and his tight crew riding on the bus during the overnight drives, except for the short journeys and when you had to work side by side with him between shows. 

Other times, you have been travelling solo whenever you were required to. Only so you could be ahead of the entourage to make sure that all the preparations needed for his show would be in place by the time they arrived. 

Tonight, that would be one of the things that is going to change. 

With one last destination left on the tour, the bus and its passengers will be heading down the road right away instead of remaining in this city for the night. And you are going to be joining them on the bus to get to the next destination instead of travelling solo to the next city. 

But as you walk towards the bus, you can feel, deep down, that the travel arrangement wouldn’t be the only thing that is going to be different tonight. 

The place around you is dark and quiet. So quiet that you can almost hear the sound of your rapid heartbeat echoing around you as you reach for the door. Your breath grows heavy as you open the door and climb your way in. More silence welcomes you, which only thickens further once the door is closed behind you. 

Making your way to the back of the bus, you walk past the seats where everyone would usually waste their time while on the road, loitering and chattering loudly with a ton of noises filling this area. The kitchen and the dining area look partly messy—with bags of potato chips and empty bottles left unattended on the counter, even when the tables are wiped clean—and you wonder just how much mess will be added here later once the boys are back. 

And then you reach the area where the bunk beds are. The sleeping quarters that everyone would use to rest and spend the night in while the bus is driving across cities and between borders. With only individual curtains giving each bunk its privacy, noises from outside can still filter through in the night. 

Thinking about this as you walk through the row of bunk beds only brings you back—way back—to the night which started it all. The same night which gave you the reason to be here, tracing your steps through the bus to look for Hanbin. 

It was after the second show when you tracked down this quiet aisle with the same purpose which led to one small mistake that started an entire ripple effect. You came here that night when Hanbin suddenly disappeared after the show while everyone was ready to grab dinner. You came back to the tour bus to find and fetch him so he could eat, knowing how often he would skip his meal when he was focused deeply in work. 

That night was exactly like tonight, with everyone away and on their way to find the nearest local restaurant, leaving the bunk beds empty. At least, that was what you had expected, believing that Hanbin must have lost track of time when he immediately dove straight back into work the way he often would just to burn out the rest of his energy for the night. 

You were heading further back of the vehicle to find him when a faint sound of a groan caught your attention. It sounded like someone or something was in one of the bunk beds, which drew your curiosity. So you stopped to listen.

A bunch of other noises started to become more noticeable then, and it didn’t take long for you to notice that the sounds came from the last bunk on the row. The one that Hanbin was meant to use during the long trips on the road. You carefully crept closer so you could listen better. To know just what was happening behind the curtain. 

There was a mix of cryptic sounds heard coming out of it—the sounds of sheets ruffling, soft knocking against the side of the bunk, and more soft groans.

You wondered for a moment if it was really Hanbin inside the bunk. But when you started suspecting him to be the source of those sounds, you immediately felt annoyed. Livid, even. When the thought of him doing something as risky as getting it on with some stranger crossed your mind. 

It didn’t help when you remembered about his wish to live like a rockstar. Remembered how he had spoken about it before the tour. The thought further led you into believing that he may have actually done it. That he had invited someone, perhaps a willing fan of his, onto the bus. 

It made you want to strangle him just thinking about him actually doing it. The last thing you needed was for him to get caught in trouble in the middle of the tour. Much less for him to get entangled in malicious rumours if something like this should get out in public. 

As the noises continued, you gently grabbed the hem of the curtain, ready to throw it back and bust him. A myriad of scolding went through your head at that point as you were ready to make him pay for it. 

Another groan was heard and you decided to move once you confirmed that it was really his voice that you heard. Ignoring the way the sound of his pleasured moan sent tingles through your body, you whipped the curtain back to catch him in the act, only to regret it as soon as you saw him. 

Hanbin looked like a deer caught in the headlights when he looked up. His eyes were wide open with fear, yet you could also see a dark need emerging from his gaze which became more visible the moment he realised that it was you. 

But you already had your attention somewhere else to notice it.

Reclining in the tight space within his bunk bed, Hanbin was bare-chested, wearing nothing more but his shorts that had been pushed down under his hips. You just couldn’t resist looking down to see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, fully exposed and standing hard against his stomach.

Once the shock wore off, his truth finally came out. He confided in you about his need to release all the energy that was still boiling within him after the show. That it would have made it hard for him to be able to feel calm in the night unless he had all of that energy drained out of him. To have it tamed, so that he could finally relax and have his proper rest. 

“I don’t really think it’s working, though,” he breathlessly said then with a bitter chuckle. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone. And it’s kind of hard to make myself cum when my head is at the wrong places.”

“What if I give you a helping hand? Will it work?” The offer slipped right out of your lips before you could do anything to stop it. You didn’t even realise what you were offering him until the moment you saw the look on his face. He looked surprised, but intrigued at the same time. Then there was this new emotion which seemed raw and fierce coming out through his gaze when he considered taking your offer. 

“Why would I say no to that?” was what he said as he leaned back, allowing you to take matters into your own hands, literally, as you fixed his problems simply with the touch of your hands until he was able to find release. 

That was the first time that you crossed the line just to help him. And it was definitely not the last. 

The arrangement continued after the next show, and the next, and you kept coming to his aid at the end of every concert throughout the ongoing tour. Your help had become the best option available rather than allowing him to find other ways to get out of his predicament once the night got deeper and he was still too hyped up to sleep.

After a short while, your carnal favour has escalated from merely giving him your special aid through your helping hands to taking him deep in your mouth once he needed to be stimulated further. 

That was as far as you had gotten since this arrangement started. Never once had it led to something more. And Hanbin had always been the focus of your “service”, except for the few times he returned the favour by giving you release with the touch of his deft hands when you had to do this in the privacy of his hotel room. 

Your body trembles in heat. Both from reminiscing all the sinful act you had done to help him and from the pleasure that you gained in return through his touch. 

Reaching the end of the aisle, your eyes linger on the last bunk. The curtain is drawn, and there is no sound coming out of it. You can tell that he won’t be there if you pull that curtain open, so you move on.

The only sound that you can hear comes from the small room at the back of the bus instead. The area that was meant to be the master bedroom, altered into a private cabin with sofa beds and desks which would have more purpose for someone like Hanbin. 

You shouldn’t be surprised to know that Hanbin would choose to be there, waiting for you to come to him. Because you know that out of all the sections within the bus, it would be the only place that can provide you all the privacy that you may need to be able to help sort out the uncommon predicament that Hanbin might be facing tonight. 

Right this moment, that is where the faint sound of his moans and slow breaths is guiding you. And you follow its lead, with your heart palpitating the closer you are to get to it. 

As you gently open the door to the cabin, you find Hanbin sitting on the long sofa at the back of the room. The same sofa bed that you would use to sleep on whenever you are riding on the bus, when you are not helping Hanbin finish his work or write his music while everyone else is asleep in their bunks.

You enter the cabin, closing the door behind you. You take a moment to have a good look at him before coming to his side. 

Hanbin still has the same pants that he was wearing on stage. Sill bare-chested after discarding his shirt at the end of the show to toss it to God knows where. The only difference is that he is barefoot, with his shoes left hastily on the floor. The strands of his hair—which appear to be wet with sweat—are now a complete mess with curly strands falling over his face like curtains shielding him from the dim lights illuminating the room.

Hanbin has his head tilted back as he reclines on the sofa, looking awfully exhausted after the hours-long, full-energy show that he had just concluded. You can see his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His bare skin is glistening with a thin layer of sweat that somehow makes him look even more alluring than he always has been. The glow on his skin further accentuates the lines on his chest, shoulders, and torso, making you feel the urge to touch him there. 

Before you can realise it, your legs begin to move, taking you to him. At first, it appears to you that he has yet to notice your presence. Until you notice the slight tremor in his deep inhale of breath once he senses that you are coming closer.

As you come to him, Hanbin lifts his head to look at you. The dim lighting around you didn’t allow you to see it before, yet as he subtly shifts on his seat, you finally notice that he had left his pants unbuttoned and unzipped before you had gotten here. 

Seeing the sight of his hard-on, partly covered by his pants while the tip is resting heavily on his stomach, it reminds you of the first night you saw him like this. Except that instead of having his hand wrapped around his hard girth, Hanbin keeps his hands to his side this time. Both are clenched tightly into the sofa, allowing you to see the tension rolling out of his body.

That tension seems to grow further when he opens his eyes, watching you coming closer to him with an intense gaze. 

“You’re here,” he says once you are standing right before him. His voice almost feels like an echo in the silence that surrounds you. Still sounds hoarse after the show. 

“I’m here,” you find yourself responding as if you are completely entranced by his gentle voice. You clear your throat, hoping that you can shake away the yearning in your voice before he ever notices it. “I heard you were expecting me. I came right away, assuming that you needed my assistance.” 

You trail your gaze back down on his lap, eyeing closely at the sight of his hard cock. It twitches against his stomach the more you give it attention. You lick your lips, wishing for a taste. Yet you manage to keep your voice steady when you tease him, “I didn’t expect that you would have started already without me.” 

A slow grin appears on his face. “There is no way I could start anything before you got here. I was waiting for you. But as you can see, I needed to do something about it when it was starting to hurt so bad.” 

He stops with a hiss. His body seems to react while he converses with you. “You’re the only one who can help me during times like this,” he says to you before dragging his tongue across his lips. 

There is a subtle disappointment flickering in his eyes when he adds, “Funny, I thought you would be as excited as I’ve been to finally have some time alone like this once the show ended.” 

The look that you see in his eyes and the disdain you hear in his voice catch you by surprise. You didn’t truly expect that he would be anticipating this as much as you have been. It makes you feel guilty for stalling time instead of coming to see him straight away just like you were supposed to. 

You had only lingered back to gather your wits before facing him. It was something that you felt needed to do, after the reactions he wrung out of you while he was performing. 

Even now, you still feel hot as you are picturing him dancing, rolling his body to the music as if he was making love to it. And your body is still reacting the same way. Heat rushes through you, centering at your core. Then you look down again at his throbbing shaft, and that heat shifts into something else. 

You take a deep breath and quickly move your eyes to his face to gain composure. “I was planning to come find you right away, but I had to make sure that everything was going as planned before we could go back on the road,” you try to explain yourself, even if you can tell that what you are giving him is nothing but a lame excuse. 

“Is that so? I guess I can’t blame you for making sure that you’re done with the job. I almost thought that you were avoiding me,” he jokes with a feeble chuckle, to which you quickly respond with,

“I would never do that.” You surprise both him and yourself with your immediate respond. You are mostly surprised at how much you meant it. “There’s no way I could avoid you. Not at times like this, at least.”

Hanbin falls silent, making you tense for a moment. Until he lets out a relieved sigh. “That’s a relief to hear. I’m glad,” he says. A subtle tremor rises from his chest just then, and you can tell that he is still brimming with adrenaline. 

The same adrenaline that he had gotten built up from the stage, and the one that you will have to tame down for him to be able to sleep during the night. 

The same way it has always been. Once the music ends, the overflowing adrenaline that still remains in his body becomes out of control. And it is your job to help him come down from it. 

Only that it would need a different kind of high to make it happen. 

After tonight’s show, you know for sure that this would be a challenging of a task for you to deal with. You can only hope that you won’t get devoured by this new raw energy of his.

“How can I help you this time?” you offer with a soft voice that is nearly drowned by the sound of your rapid heartbeat. 

“Can you—” he starts to say in a whisper, “can you strip out of your clothes this time? Please, I want to see you.” 

His words, despite sounding like an inconspicuous request, are still enough to make you feel the same rushing heat building back up in your body. The only thing that you aren’t completely sure of is whether this feeling comes merely from lust. 

Because the rapid flutters rising in your chest are telling you that there is something else that is present there. Something that is insisting on blooming within you despite all of your efforts to keep it away. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” you ask him, trying to make sure that he knows what he is asking of you. That he realises that complying with his request now would only mean that both of you are crossing a new line. 

“I wouldn’t be asking you this if I wasn’t,” he firmly says to you, and you can almost hear his voice growing deeper and heavy with his desire for a moment before he covers it all up to say, “but you don’t have to if you don’t want to go that far.” 

But you do want to. Even if it means you are crossing over boundaries, and things may escalate further than they usually would. 

Somehow, you had predicted that things may turn out differently this time. Unlike those previous nights, lending him your helping hands may not be enough for you to solve this problem of his. Not tonight.

You already felt it since the show earlier, when there was a new raw energy emerging from him throughout the show. As if he was letting loose every pent-up desire on stage, which brought up the rumbling energy now still emerging through his body as he is sitting there, waiting for you to make a decision. 

Fulfilling his request seems risky when you are already getting too deep. You were never supposed to get your emotions involved. Yet it still happened. It happened before you realised it, and now it appears to you that it is already too late for you to try and stop it. 

You have made up your mind to try and ignore your treacherous heart. To focus on doing your job until the final day of his tour. Except that the answer you give him next doesn’t seem to support your decision and your mind decides to take a new risk instead.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it,” you calmly say to him while doing your best not to show how much his words are affecting you. 

“It would be better that way, after all, since you nearly ruined my favourite blouse when you made a mess on me the last time we did this,” you simply add, as you try to convince yourself that there is really nothing else behind this. That you just want to make it more practical. 

Your comment draws a grin to his face, as if he is recalling that salacious night in his head right after you brought it up. The night when you slipped into his dressing room right after a show, using the limited time you had to fix his problem before you were supposed to drive him and the dancers to the hotel where everyone could rest for the night. 

Except that in the rush of him finding release, Hanbin made a complete mess out of himself, and you, when drops of his essence fell all over your blouse. It would have been impossible for people not to notice you coming out of his dressing room wearing nothing but his sweatshirt, had there been people still loitering around after the show was over. 

You had initially believed that your secret was safe with you when you managed to slip out unnoticed, until you remember Shawn’s sly grin earlier when he spoke to you about Hanbin. 

Once again, you try not to dwell on it too much and focus back on the present. Back to the man who is sitting right in front of you, with his chest and cock partly out, as he waits for you to make a move. 

Looking straight into his eyes, you reach down to grip the hem of your blouse and strip it off of your body. Your trousers come next, as you unbutton them at the waist and start pushing the fabric down your hips.

Hanbin’s eyes never waver from you while this is happening. The way his gaze is so focused on you seems to only urge you to continue putting on a show for him. So you begin to sway your hips from side to side as you slowly peel your pants off of you, before letting everything fall on the floor.

Stepping out of your shoes and the pile of your discarded clothes, you leave your undergarments on and stand right between his parted legs. His gaze follows you as you lower yourself to the floor, kneeling down right before him. 

“What do you need me to do next?” 

Hanbin drags his tongue across his lips as he considers his options. Having you kneeling in front of him, with your face hovering close to his crotch is already enough to taunt and challenge him. 

Tension rises between you as he makes you wait. 

The air feels cold on your mostly bare skin, yet your body feels hot as your anticipation increases with each passing second. Being in this position makes you feel completely exposed and helpless, as if you are submitting to his control. Slowly, your knees begin to feel sore from holding up your weight. The rising ache only brings forth the other sensations rising in your body, making you feel sensitive to the slightest movement he makes when he shifts in his seat. 

This wouldn’t be the first time that your body is showing these reactions. When you are made to feel your own carnal desire rising in your body at the thought of pleasing him and fulfilling his needs. 

And this was the reason why you took your sweet time coming to him. Because you couldn’t face him when you had a myriad of emotions rushing through your body. You are already made weak by your forbidden feelings, and it would only be made worse once he brings out your dark desire. 

Because you know that you wouldn’t be able to control yourself once that happens. 

A gentle touch on the top of your head brings your attention back to him before your mind gets too far and your insecurities take over. At the same time, his touch calms you down. 

The moment you look into his eyes, everything else seems to fade away. This is no longer a part of your job, and the world outside of this cabin no longer exists. It stops you from questioning your decision of ever getting yourself involved in this whole thing.

“Help me take these off. I can barely move a muscle since I got here,” he calmly claims with a soft chuckle, completely oblivious to the turmoil happening in your head. 

He probably doesn’t even know how his simple request is making your chest dip. 

You bite back the bashful smile that comes to your face. “Oh, poor you. Here, let me help,” you say to him with a tease, even if it falls short once your eyes return to his twitching erection.

You ignore the warm flutters rising in your chest as you reach up to grab a hold of his waistband. With a firm grip, you start pulling his pants and boxer pants together. Which doesn’t really take a lot of effort when they were barely holding on around his hips, already pushed down just enough for him to free his rigid cock from its restraint. Your fingers graze his skin as you keep pulling them down his hips, causing him to tremble under your touch. 

It gives you some self-satisfaction to be able to draw this kind of reaction from him. It feels good to see that you are not the only one getting affected by all the tension. So you tease him further, keeping light contact with his skin as you continue to bring his clothes down his legs. 

“There. Better?” you ask him with a low voice once the intrusive clothes of his are now gone. 

Seeing him sitting there completely naked leaves you breathless. Yet you find it hard to look away. His erection seems to grow harder under your perusing gaze. It causes the urge to touch him to grow stronger. 

“Touch it,” he suddenly says, as if he knows what you are thinking just by looking at your clenched hands. “Please,” he adds almost breathlessly, “I want to feel your hands on me.” 

Words fail you. While his words pull you like a spell. You reach out to touch him, starting from his thighs, where you trace his skin lightly with the tips of your fingers, drawing light shudders through his body. You continue until you finally reach the area between his legs when you finally stop.

His whole body tenses. Anticipation rolls through him as you move your hand closer. Light fingers start hovering lightly on his hard-on, with only a subtle brush or two grazing at his cock. Each light touch you give him only makes you want more. You want to feel his skin under your palm. To feel the familiar pulse coming from his cock the moment you touch him. Yet you resist the temptation just a bit longer. You want to tease him enough to the point that he feels like he is on the edge before you finally continue. 

And he doesn’t disappoint you when he soon reacts. With a soft whimper, Hanbin subtly pushes his hips up, as if trying to guide you into touching him further.

No longer able to deny your own desire, you finally give in and wrap a gentle hand around the base of his cock. 

At your touch, Hanbin reacts with a groan. His chest trembles as he tries to calm himself with a deep inhale of breath. His hips almost come up from the sofa when you start moving your hand, sliding your gentle grip up and down the length of his cock. 

You continue to move, keeping a steady pace and drawing more and more reactions from him. His rocking hips, his rumbling chest as he moans in pleasure, and his hands that are clenching tightly right by his side. 

You soon notice how quickly he loses control of himself once he starts thrusting back up into your hand. Seeing how badly he needs this release, you give a firm grip around his girth and slowly pick up your speed, moving your hand up and down his length until the sound of his laboured breathing fills the room. 

“Fuck, that’s it. That feels perfect,” he groans with his head tilted back. Shudders after shudders rush through him, and you keep up what you are doing now when he doesn’t make a move to stop you. 

Until you start to feel it coming. 

A pulse rises from his girth, pressing against your palm. and you take it as a cue that it is time for him to reach his climax. After giving him a few more strokes, you lean down and tease the head of his cock with your tongue. He lets out a deep groan once he feels your lips wrapped around the tip, covering him with your warm mouth. 

You continue the light strokes along the length of his shaft and reach down with your other hand, touching his balls with a light hand and start massaging him lightly as you begin licking your way up and down his member. As the sound of his moans increases rapidly, you finally take his whole cock into your mouth and slide all the way down, taking as much as you can until he is deep in your throat. 

You suck hard as you push him in and out of your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip each time you come up and tightening your throat when you come back down to swallow him. With your hand, you continue stroking the rest of his length that you cannot cover, until you feel his muscles tightening, his moans stuttering with heavy breathing, a sign that he is ready to explode. 

With one last stroke, and giving him one last hard suck, you swallow him deeply until it finally happens. His hands come up to the back of your head to keep you in place as he rocks his hips, thrusting into your mouth. It takes only a few thrusts before he finally comes into your mouth. His warm release falls on your tongue and the cavern of your mouth, with some drops shooting their way to the back of your throat. 

The last one makes you gargle, yet with his hands keeping you in place and your mouth still pumping his length, you make no move to pull away. You continue sucking, swallowing every last drop until the only thing that remains is the constant pulse of his blood pumping from the base of his cock to the tip that is still buried in your throat. 

You don’t stop, until he finally has enough and releases you, and you pull away so his cock pops out of your lips and falls back onto his stomach. 

You take a moment to catch your breath. But once your mind is cleared, you realise too late how hot your body feels now, triggered solely by the act of pleasing him. There is heat rising between your quivering legs, and you somehow know that if you reach down, you will find yourself growing wet. 

Hanbin’s hands return to you, touching your face gently so you can look at him again. 

His face seems flushed after his release, with a mix of afterglow and raw, unfulfilled hunger that refuses to go away. The glow in his eyes makes you grow curious at first, until your eyes trail down his heaving chest, stopping at his toned stomach to see his cock, still hard and mostly rigid even after its release. 

“As you can see, seems like I’m going to need a little more than that,” he says with a lack of regret shown in his voice. 

This situation makes you laugh. “A little?” you tease him, making him grin.

“Okay, maybe a lot,” he returns with an easy shrug, while your chest feels heavy at the thought of this continuing into something else. Something more risky. 

You realise that you are not feeling this way because you are unwilling, but because deep down, you know that you want this. You have wanted this for some time, ever since the pleasure which you gain from helping him becomes so addicting and your feelings become deeply involved. 

You can barely hear your own voice under the sound of your heartbeat when you ask him, “So what do you have in mind?” 

Hanbin opens his mouth, only to close it again. “I don’t want to make you do something that you don’t want to,” he says while gauging your reaction. Ever since you started spending close, nearly intimate moments like this with him, you have learned that he can be a bit perceptive when it comes to you. 

And it does a lot of things to your heart when he can easily tell what you need. How he always keeps a close eye on you to make sure to notice any discomfort coming from you. 

“No, that’s not what this is,” you answer him with a soft voice as your hands return to touch him again. You trace your fingers on the inner side of his thighs, stopping before you reach his cock when you finally admit to him, “I want this. I want to do all I can to help you.” 

And help myself satiate my needs, the little voice in your head whispers just as your eyes find him. You hate to admit how hopeful you are feeling as you wait, expecting him to express to you exactly what he needs. 

The same way you always make it happen. It makes things easier for you when he guides you through it. Even though it has never been easy for you to deal with the lingering aftermath.

“Good. Now come up here,” he breathlessly says. The need in his voice feels so intense that makes you feel entranced. Pulled by his demand as you carefully plant one knee and the other on either side of him to get over his lap. 

Hanbin has his hands on your waist, helping you up with a gentle hold. Which only makes it hard for you to remain calm when his touch makes your heart stutter. Butterfly wings fluttering wildly from deep within your chest just from that simple touch alone.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, as he notices how you become still under the touch of his hands. There is a deep sigh in his voice. It makes you wonder if he is getting affected by the contact at the same time. 

“Just a bit nervous,” you find yourself admitting to him before you can stop it. You quickly bite your tongue, stopping yourself from suddenly dumping your true feelings and trying to divert his attention. “I never realised how tight this sofa is until we’re both sitting on it together like this.” 

He softly chuckles. “I’ll take care of you,” he says to you gently as he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you up against his chest. “But if you’re not sure about this—” 

“I’m sure. Positively sure about this,” you quickly cut him off. The words just come out of you before you realise it happening. 

A smile grows on his face. One that makes you swoon and you simply melt into his hold. “That’s all I need to hear,” is all he has to say to you, before he surprises you by pulling you to him and pressing his lips on yours. 

You grow tense for a moment and he slows down, giving you a chance to process this over. Maybe push him away if you are feeling uncomfortable. 

Because he never kissed you on the lips before. Not like this. Not with this much passion and tenderness that makes you feel like your heart has grown wings and they are fluttering wildly in your chest. 

Slowly, you begin to relax, returning his kiss with the same gentleness that he is giving you. The kiss continues on, and on, until he suddenly traces your lips with his tongue, and you are made to feel as if you are melting into hot lava. 

Hanbin’s hand slides up your back. His touch feels distant as you have your mind muddled by his hot kiss. Though your body still arches into his touch, as if having a mind of its own. You run your hands through his messy hair, pulling at his locks while you are returning his kiss. 

A soft tug is felt against the skin on your back. The next thing you know, he is pulling your bra off of you. He pulls back from the kiss as he throws the bra away, while you let out a gasp when a cold breeze touches your skin. 

Hanbin licks his lips as he takes a good, intense look at your bare breasts. “All this time, I’ve always wondered—” 

The sound of the door at the front of the bus being opened cuts him off before he can finish what he is trying to say. Then the sound of low chatters and laughter follows. You immediately wrap your arms around yourself when you realise that some of the boys are already returning from dinner. 

Blood is drained from your face at the thought of being caught in the middle of this. “Oh no, I forgot to lock the doors.” 

“It’s okay, baby,” Hanbin hushes you with a soft murmur while pressing a finger on your lips. “They know that we need our privacy, so no one will be looking for us back here. Just remember to keep it quiet while they’re still out there.” 

Before you have the chance to ask what he means to say, he pulls your head down and presses his lips on yours. Once again, he silences your thoughts until the only thing that you can focus on is the present. 

To focus on him. 

For someone who is filled with tension, Hanbin’s kiss feels gentle. As if he wants to take it slow, to take his time while making sure that you won’t break. The soft touch he keeps on your waist makes you realise that he is giving you a chance to set the pace, to allow you to slip away if you want none of this. 

But there is no escaping this when have already given in, allowing yourself to submit completely to your true desire. It isn’t hard to let yourself go when you can feel from the way he is kissing you that Hanbin wants this as much as you do. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you allow yourself to take more. You meet his kiss by responding to it with the same fervour. You return every mesh of his lips on yours with your own, then you open your mouth to let him slip his tongue right in. 

Hanbin seizes his chance right away, deepening the kiss by pressing harder. His breathing grows heavier as he swirls his tongue around yours, to which you respond by sucking his tongue and pushing back, drawing a faint sound of a groan rumbling through his chest. 

You feel his hands moving right then, tracing your skin and rubbing at your curves, before finding your bottom cheeks. He covers your soft flesh with his palms and gives it a light squeeze, pushing you further into his chest and drawing a warm pulse deep inside your core when your covered pussy rubs against his cock. 

Feeling delirious from his touch and his hot kiss, you run your hands over the smooth muscles on his chest. The tips of your fingers slide down the thin layer of sweat that is covering his skin, while feeling him growing even hotter under your touch. 

All of a sudden, Hanbin pulls away from the kiss. He narrows his eyes when he looks at you, giving you a look filled with lust. 

His gaze moves away from your face as he moves his hands again. His eyes follow his touch as he traces his way up to your breasts. A tremor is visible in his inhale of breath as he gently presses his palms on your soft mounds, matching the subtle tremors that come awake through your body from his touch. 

As soon as his fingers touch your breasts, your nipples grow hard in an instant, and they seem to grow more sensitive the more he touches you that even a soft blow of the breeze makes you shiver. Once he takes notice of this, Hanbin bends his head lower and takes one of the pulsing buds between his lips. He gives a light suck, then brushes his tongue against it. You grit your teeth at the sensation that he is bringing out of you.

You almost forget where you are or the fact that you are no longer alone as Hanbin scrapes his teeth against your flesh, teasing you for a moment before biting to the point of pain. While you resist the urge to moan, your hand wanders down his chest, feeling his heartbeat stuttering under the tips of your fingers, then you continue your way down to his stomach. 

Within moments, your fingers brush the head of his cock. The need to touch him grows stronger then, and you trace your fingertips along his shaft. He moans against your breast, affected by your soft, yet indecent touch, and it pushes him to move further. 

His hand moves down your waist, pulling the waistband of your panties and tries to slip his fingers into the fabric to touch you. Yet your position above him isn’t allowing him to dive deeper to find the source of your pulsing heat. 

With a groan, Hanbin pulls away. He opens his mouth, and you begin to move back, expecting him to tell you to strip out of your panties. But he stops himself as he looks down, studying the offensive fabric for a brief moment before his hands slip under the waistband and he starts pulling.

“Wait, what are you—” You are just starting to question what he is up to when the ripping sound of the fabric fills the room. He doesn’t tear it into pieces like how you had often read it in those steamy romance novels, and he isn’t doing it so expertly either. His brows are furrowed deeply as he struggles with it and it takes him a while before he can get the job done. But as soon as he has the sides ripped up, he pulls the entire thing off of you and tosses it away while cursing out at it. 

“Are you crazy?” you ask him with your mouth gaping open, while he only exhales sharply. 

His brows are still furrowed when he answers you, “I didn’t want you to step down. Can you please wear something thinner next time so it’ll be easier for me to take it off of you?” 

“You can’t be serious?” you ask him with a baffled laugh. 

“You know I don’t joke about things like this,” he says with a sly grin. He may not seem so serious about it when he said it, but knowing him, you know that he truly meant it. “Now, where were we?” 

You are still baffled by his words that you fail to respond in time, and he takes the chance to move his hands down your hips. Hanbin has one hand holding you firmly at your hips as he dips the other between your legs, tracing the tips of his fingers up your inner thighs while gently guiding you to part your legs a bit wider. 

It feels like a struggle to get into position, but you somehow manage. Then he wastes no time to move his hand upward until his fingertips come brushing at your nether lips. 

Your hips lurch forward to meet his touch as he parts them and starts tracing your hot sex. With how sensitive and needy you have become, it doesn’t take much for him to make you start moaning and panting. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs while looking amused, but not surprised. He also seems mesmerised as he looks down at his fingers as he slips then between your folds and easily finds the slick mess that was formed while you were pleasuring him. 

He continues stroking your wet slit, drawing more and more of your arousal so that you can hear the slick sound he makes with his fingers. 

His touch draws a gasp out of your lips, and just when you are just beginning to feel high with pleasure, Hanbin bends down and starts sucking at your breast again, intensifying the sensation further that you simply lose all control of your body. 

Your hips begin to rock, moving back and forth against his touch and in tune with each stroke of his fingers on your slit. As he slides his fingers to find your clit, your moan grows a bit louder, and your movement becomes more erratic as you are drunk with carnal pleasure. 

Hanbin takes this chance to grow bold with his touch, as he gently slides a finger into your tight pussy. He feels you clenching around him tightly in response, and he begins pumping his digit in and out of you, drawing more shudders through your body with each stroke. 

While he works his fingers into your pussy, he uses his thumb to explore around it. He glides the wet digit over your clit and presses down while he pushes the rest of his fingers into your depth. 

You let out a breathy moan. Something that isn’t meant to happen, but the wanton sound comes out with your exhale of breath. And in your effort to try to hold back from erupting in pleasure, you simply fail to control yourself. 

Yet the sound you are making only draws an approving sound rumbling through his chest. He gives you a muffled moan as he keeps his mouth latched onto your breast possessively. 

Beyond the blissful fog filling your head, you can hear the faint sounds of footsteps walking away, bags being dropped, and then the distant voice saying something about leaving dinner behind and getting drinks, before you can hear the door of the bus closing. You can barely recognise those sounds, and it doesn’t register to you what it means at first, until you finally remember that you haven’t been alone on the bus for quite a while. 

Yet now that they are gone, there is nothing left behind but silence. The sounds of your ragged breath and his soft groan are the only ones left to fill the room. 

Hanbin finally releases your breast with the sound of a pop coming out of his lips. His hand quickly comes to where his mouth has been, though it doesn’t mean that he is done working his mouth on your skin. From your breasts, he traces your skin with his hot lips—up to your collarbones, then lingering on the side of your neck. 

Your head falls back. A content sigh slips out of your lips from the way he is tasting you, kissing and nibbling around the spot beneath your ear which has always been quite sensitive.

“I need to be inside you,” he finally asks you with his lips grazing against your neck. He makes it hard for you to respond with his hot kisses pressing on your skin and his fingers moving in slow circles against your slit. 

The pleasure that he wrings out of your body feels maddening. It builds in a slow rise, but is still enough to make you feel high in bliss.

“I—” you sigh out an answer, only to continue with a series of moans as you rock your hips on his lap. Too lost in your wanton need, you grind against his fingers, needing something more. Something to get you to find your release.

“I know that you want it too. I can feel it whenever you try to hold back,” he whispers as he leans back, searching for your truth with his deep gaze looking straight into your eyes. Then he surprises you, making you wonder if you have always been so transparent when he asks, “Don’t you ever feel frustrated at night when you need something but can’t have it? Why deny yourself of pleasure when I’m right here?” 

You hate how right he is and you hate that you can’t even deny every word he just said to you. 

Every time you are done with your carnal favours, you always come out of it feeling unsettled. You have always found yourself struggling on your own in the aftermath, left to spend the long hours in those nights tossing and turning in bed. 

Alone and horny. 

Frustrated because you are left with a need that has yet to be fulfilled. 

Disappointed because you have no other way to find release other than your own touch. Which would never be sufficient to give you exactly what you need.

He pushes his fingers back into your pussy, drawing a low moan out of your lips which he covers with a kiss. “Let me return the favour, baby. You’ve done so much for me. Let me do this,” he murmurs against your lips before pressing a gentle kiss, giving you time to answer, while using every sinful touch he is giving you to push you into opening up. 

Though there is really no need for him to do it, when you have already made up your mind the moment you heard his offer the first time.   

Because how are you supposed to refuse when he keeps saying all the right things? And when you can clearly see how genuine he is being? Or when your body is humming with a wanton need that keeps begging to be released, and he keeps touching you at the right places which gives you carnal pleasure? 

“If you want to talk about returning favours,” you start to answer him with a sigh while running your fingers down his heaving chest, “you should know that I only take what I am owed.” 

Hanbin grins at this. He pulls back slowly while drawing his fingers out of your tight pussy, leaving behind a shuddering bliss in its wake. You watch him bring his fingers up to his lips, each one coated with your slick arousal, which he lowly licks with his tongue until he tastes every last drop. 

The sight of him drinking your essence captivates you so that your head spins, almost making you miss what he says to you next, “You don’t have to worry about that at all. I plan on paying everything that I owe you—” he says before tasting the last drop and bringing his hands back to your hips, “even if it takes all night long to pay my debt.” 

“Really?” you ask him, “I’ll keep that in mind, just don’t take back your words once we begin.” 

You reach down, grabbing his hard erection and finding it already grown back to its full girth while he was pleasing you. You give him a few strokes, drawing a gasp from his lips, before aligning the hard tip of his cock right at your entrance. 

The urge to sit down on his hard-on feels so strong. Yet you fight it just a bit longer. You have known that you have grown awfully wet down below, and there is no doubt a mess has been created there from his sinful touches. You can hear the sound of your slick arousal echoing in the room as you guide the tip of his cock back and forth against your slit, coating him with your essence. 

You continue this until you are ready. Until you feel him pushing his hips upward slightly to press his cock against your pussy. With a shudder, you put his cock right back at your entrance and slowly start lowering yourself on him. The sound of his deep moan erupts as you slowly sink down the length of his cock, stopping briefly when there is some restraint from your pulsing walls, keeping you from taking him deeper. 

“Fuck, so tight—” he groans deeply, while you can only respond back with a soft mewl. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Mm,” is the only thing that you can give him when words fail you. Spasm after spasm of pleasure rocks through you even when you are both silent, remaining in a standstill while your bodies are slowly adjusting to one another. 

“We need to move, baby. You’re sucking me and we’re barely starting.” 

It feels tight, and your legs are trembling so much that it almost makes it hard for you to move. Even pushing yourself up and down his length seems like an effort. 

But once the series of pulses begins to wane down, you finally gather enough will to start moving. After moving slightly back and forth, nearly rocking against him, you manage to take more of him. Taking him inch by delicate inch until he is completely embedded inside your slick heat. 

With a shuddering moan, you slump forward against his chest. Because the pleasure you are feeling with him buried deep inside you is too much. 

He makes you feel full. His girth seems to be the perfect fit inside you. He also makes you feel a myriad of sensations that you have never felt before even just by filling you up like this. 

Perhaps it has been too long since you have gotten laid that your body responds to him so easily. It has been hard for you to hook up with anyone while you are attached to this job, and while you dedicated your long hours to fulfil his needs. 

Hanbin notices the way your body is taking its time to adjust to the sensation rushing through you. Instead of rushing through things, he tightens his hold on your waist to keep you close, holding you up while you let the shudders pass. 

Hot kisses are pressed on your neck, chin, and then your face, as Hanbin tries to soothe your body to relax against him and help you embrace the pleasure. It takes a moment, but you finally feel the tension in your body lessening in his hold. 

That is when you start moving. 

Starting with tentative rocking at first, before you slowly start gaining more and more confidence just as the rush of pleasure continues to build up and take over. Scooting forward and back, you rub yourself against his length. Then you gather enough strength on your legs and begin moving up and down his length, causing his cock to retreat and reenter you with each move. 

Your carnal desire quickly takes over control, and your body continues to move naturally in a steady rocking. He raises his hands and begins caressing your breasts, using the rhythm of your rocking hips to gently knead your soft flesh. 

“That feels—good,” you moan softly, mewling while arching your chest into him so you can press your breasts into his palms. He takes this chance to pinch your nipples, playing with them by rubbing and rolling them between his thumbs and forefinger, until he draws an intense wave of pleasure rushing throughout your body. 

Your rocking quickens, and with the way you are arching into him, you are inadvertently grinding your clit against his pubic bone, drawing more and more of those delicate shivers of pleasure surging inside you. They rise through your chest and neck, and once your legs begin to quiver harder, you start losing balance and the rocking of your hips grows unsteady. 

His hands come down to your hips, giving you a firm hold to keep you from flailing and falling back from the sofa. Humming softly, Hanbin becomes aware of the way you are shaking on top of him. He gives you a moment to ride your pleasure before he takes over and starts pumping his cock into you. 

“I...fucking…knew it,” he groans, saying each word between each thrust he is giving you. He slams harder and harder, closing his eyes as he takes this moment to savour the pleasure that he is feeling from being inside you.

“I’ve pictured this so many times, and it feels way better than I imagined it would,” you hear him say with ragged breaths. Your hips buck in surprise, but he tightens his grip on your hips and increases the pace of his fucking, pushing all thoughts, any word you wanted to say to him, out the window. 

Your fingers sink deeper into his bare shoulders as you hold on tightly to him through the rough fucking he is giving you. The pleasure feels so intense. But the sudden tightness in your chest has nothing to do with the sparks rising right where you are joined, when your heart seems to swell at his admission.

To even think that he has been thinking of you this way, for wanting this same thing as you do for a long time, seems unfathomable. 

But you cannot say that you had never suspected it before. You still remember faintly hearing him say your name on that first night you caught him pleasing himself, even if you had suppressed this memory to the back of your mind in your denial. Though the rest of the time you saw the signs had been real, when he kept his eyes open each time you assisted him with his needs, refusing to look away from you as he embraced his release. 

You open your eyes just as he does the same. The look you see coming out of his gaze makes your heart lodged higher in your chest. Because beyond the lust, beyond the desire, you see deep longing looking back at you, returning every yearning that you feel for him as he continues to rock his hips in rapid successions. 

Hanbin pulls your head down until your mouths are joined. He drinks in the sounds of your moans with a deep kiss. Your breasts bounce with each hard thrust he keeps giving you. Each hard tip keeps rubbing against his chest, drawing more wicked sensations through your body which pushes you closer towards your climax. 

Right before you can reach it, Hanbin suddenly stops. He trembles as he holds back from his own release, starting from his legs that are locked under your weight to his chest which heaves with deep, ragged breaths. 

You open your mouth to protest and whine, but stop yourself when you look into his eyes. You can see his intention looking back at you and instantly know that this is not over yet. 

He may have denied both of you from your final release, but he is not done with you yet. 

Keeping his hands on your hips, he gives you a firm hold as he rolls your bodies together, flipping your positions until you are laid right beneath him. 

He lifts your legs in the air, sending you sinking into the sofa as he places your legs on his shoulders. In a blink of an eye, he slides his cock back into you, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips when he pushes in with one firm thrust, drawing a rapid set of spasms from your walls pressing around him. As you look up to him, his eyes are dark with lust, clear desire written all over his face when he begins rocking, thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace. 

“Hanbin—!” you hiss out his name as he continues fucking you to oblivion. 

Yet hearing you calling out his name seems to work like a spell. It draws him to move quicker, pumping deeper inside you, until all that you can feel is his hardness pushing in and filling you up completely to the brim. 

Allowing himself to get lost in his carnal desire, he no longer cares about the noises that he draws out from both of you while he chases for his release. It feels so intense, so hot, so carnal, that you almost feel like you are melting into the sofa while your whole body trembles violently under each of his hard thrusts. 

Being in this position, you are made helpless. With your body being folded under his weight, it makes you feel off-balanced. There is no escape as he drives into you, pushing you into the height of bliss. 

But you refuse to stay still, wanting to give back and push you both further and faster to find climax. Reaching up, you hold on tightly to his biceps. Keeping a steady leverage there as you rock your hips back up, returning every thrust he is giving you with your own push. 

You scream out his name at how good it feels. The pleasure that feels like ecstasy rolling through your body, shooting straight back up to his rocking hips until you feel him shuddering above you. 

“That feels so good. I’m close, baby,” he groans, just as you feel the first wave of your climax building rapidly inside you. 

“Please, Hanbin. I’m also close,” you moan deeply, almost breathless with the intensity of your pleasure taking over your body. “I’m going to come.” 

He reaches down between your rocking bodies without missing a single thrust. His fingers come down right at where you are joined. With a trembling groan, he finds your clit and gives it a pinch. 

Pain and pleasure spark through your body. Your muscles grow tight, clenching around him, before your orgasm comes crashing through your body, one intense spasm to another. Hanbin cups the nape of your neck as he continues to pump into you hard and fast, fucking you through your orgasm until it feels like it will never end. 

“Fuck—you’re so tight, baby,” he grunts. “You’re gripping at me.” 

His voice fades in and out as your orgasm rolls through you. Once again, your pussy clenches tightly around him, and your final orgasm finally pushes him through his own. He comes with a shout, and you feel him twitching inside you before he starts shooting his warm release inside you. His slow rocking carries on with pulse after pulse of his climax until he fills you up with the very last drop of cum. 

Exhausted and spent, Hanbin collapsed on top of you, completely out of breath. While you no longer have the energy to push him away. He waits until all the spasms growing in your bodies start to calm down when he finally pulls out of you. 

While you fall helplessly on the sofa, breathless and high in your blissful fog, Hanbin moves away to grab a clean paper towel before returning to you. 

He takes his time taking care of you, gently cleaning you off from the mess that has been created from your intense lovemaking. Each delicate brush on your skin draws light sparks from your body that still feels sensitive to the touch. Slowly, he draws your senses back alive, yet his soothing touches help you relax with a content sigh. 

Once he is done, Hanbin rolls you over to face him as he falls right beside you on the plush sofa.

As you lie there by his side, in a post-orgasmic bliss and limbs that feel too heavy for you to move, your mind begins to race. There is no stopping it when you start wondering, questioning about what will happen next. You have crossed boundaries as his personal aid, and what you had taken as your personal responsibility to take care of him has now become something else. 

“That was—” you try to speak once you find your voice again. Yet no words come out of you when you have no idea what to say to him. 

“Amazing? Sensational?” he teases you while wiggling his eyebrows. 

You laugh, shaking your head even when deep down, you cannot really deny it. It was amazing. Shocking and fully insane, may also be the perfect way to describe it.

As you lie down beside him in the tight space of the plush sofa bed, you look at his face closely, still unable to believe that what just happened was real. 

“I mean, whatever works. As long as you enjoyed it,” you find yourself saying this to him as you try to process this moment. 

Because everything feels like a dream. 

Except what remains from your orgasm still lingers like a murmur through your entire body, showing you how real everything was. There is the slickness you still feel oozing out of you when you shift closer to him. Not to mention the soreness between your legs that is still present.

Even lying down side by side with him like this doesn’t feel real at all. You may have spent the past few weeks flirting, teasing, and even satisfying each other. Yet post-coital intimacy has never been a thing to share between you. 

Never before tonight. 

“Me? What about you? I thought I was paying my debts to you?” he asks you with a tease, though he seems genuinely curious to hear your answer. 

“I—” you try to speak, feeling a tug at your heartstrings knowing that he cares. “I thoroughly enjoyed it.” Your smile grows when you see him smiling at your answer. “Let’s just say that it was a good start to pay back what I’m owed.” 

Hearing this, Hanbin laughs. 

He surprises you once again when he pulls you to his chest and gives you a kiss, as if it is the most normal thing for him to do. And you return his kiss as easily as though you are two regular lovers. As if this isn’t the first time you are being this close. To be this intimate, aside from the special arrangement that you have made with each other. 

“Can we—” he says breathlessly as he breaks away from the kiss. “Can we continue like this for a while, just until this tour is over?” 

Just like that, any hope that had a chance to bloom in your chest is depleted. Disappointment washes through you for thinking that this actually has an expiration date. Just when you finally have the courage to admit your true feelings. 

But then your spirit is quickly lifted when Hanbin continues to add, “Once we’re done with this tour and later when we’re back home, let’s talk about this further. That is, only if you want to. I just don’t want you to think that I’m only taking advantage of you and forget everything once we’re back.” 

This time, when you feel that unsolicited hope brewing in your chest again, you do nothing to suppress it or hold it in. You don’t even try to deny it. There is no point in denying it now, after all. As it will always be there, no matter what you do to ignore it. 

And now that the final line has been crossed, you know that there is no turning back. 

“Sure, I’d like that,” you whisper to him with a smile, and with a genuine trust knowing that Hanbin always keeps his words to you.

Just like how he keeps his words about spending the entire night making up to you for all the favours that you are owed. 

Hours later, as the bus continues its journey towards its next destination, both you and Hanbin are still huddled up in the back cabin. The room has grown hot, and the passion that you share has yet to come down. 

A soft moan escapes you when he rocks his hips, pumping deeper into you in a series of rapid thrusts, and he quickly presses a finger on your lips to stop you from making too much noise. “Keep your voice down, baby. You’ll wake everyone,” he urgently whispers. 

Being in your current position, with your folded knees sinking deeper into the sofa and your hands barely able to hold your upper body up against his relentless pounding coming from behind, it really is becoming impossible for you to hold back. “I can’t,” you whisper to him between your strained moans. “It’s too much.” 

After a series of orgasms that he has been giving you all night, with only a brief reprieve taken when you took a break to have dinner—specially delivered to you by Shawn and the dancers while you were both busy in the back—it really is becoming a bit too much. 

Your body has taken a lot of his rough lovemaking that a single thrust is enough to ignite the sparks within you. Your skin has grown too warm, your pussy is tender, and your muscles are getting too sore to keep you up. 

“I know, I’m so sorry. Just a little bit more, okay?” he pleads with you as he continues thrusting in and out of you, slowly quickening his pace as he feels the spasms of your climax rising yet again, with your muscles pressing around his cock in a possessive grip. 

You bend forward and lift your hips higher to take everything that he is giving you. While his words echo through your mind as you embrace the building pleasure, reminding you of the promise that he gave to you earlier. 

Until this tour is over. 

Just one more show. 

You hold on to those words to gain strength. But after what you are experiencing tonight, and after witnessing the adrenaline rush that went through him after tonight’s show, the final arrangement waiting for you at the end of this tour no longer seems to be an easy fix. 

“I doubt that it’ll be anything ‘little’ when it comes to you,” you retort back to him with a moan, “you’re insatiable.” 

Hanbin lets out a soft chuckle as he presses a kiss on your bare shoulder. “It wasn’t my fault this time. You started it first.” 

You hide your smile at his words. Because he was right, after all.

After your tryst continued for a while and you were lying on his side, tracing the lines on his bare chest, the memory of his alluring dance came through your mind. It took you back to the moment you were made to feel hot from the sight of him rocking his hips, and how his sweat-covered chest kept glowing under the stage lights while he was dancing, keeping you under his spell.

That memory gave you the urge to start touching him. Starting with the touch of your fingers tracing down his skin, before you replaced your naughty hands with your lips when you traced the lines on his torso with your kisses. And you kept going lower, and lower, reaching the source of his arousal, until he finally snapped. 

“Guilty as charged,” you admit to him with a deep moan just as he pushes deep into you. “I’ll take all the responsibility for this one.” 

“Good. Because I’m not going easy with you this time,” he says, as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster, while you can only take everything until you are quickly pushed towards the precipice of your climax. 

He makes you bite your ripped panties as he keeps pounding into you, stopping any sounds that may come out through your lips as you embrace your climax. Making sure that your voice won’t wake the boys who are sleeping soundly in their personal bunk beds while the bus continues to drive through the night towards its final destination. 

⤑ Author’s Note | This was supposed to be posted on his birthday, but as always, things don’t always go as planned when it comes to scheduling in my case. I’m glad that I still got to finish this because the idea had been stuck in my head since I’ve been following B.I’s journey through his European tour this year, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it if I didn’t write it down right away. I hope you enjoyed this thrilling experience. Please leave kudos/likes, comments, and share/reblog it if you liked what you read. Any other form of feedback is also welcomed. Thank you for reading!

— © 2023 @yoonia (Tomoe Dia), all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, and unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed. | First publication & writing on Nov 10th, 2023

[juyoluvs]

light a candle | l.juyeon

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☆pairing: single fatherljuyeon x teacher fem!reader

☆tags: fluff!, slow but not so slow burn, really slight smut, mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of death, mentions of other members, eric is kinda toxic here :)

☆summary: after your last relationship you swore to yourself that you wouldn't fall in love again but you change your thoughts when you see a little girl and her...very hot dad

disclaimer! all the people on this fic are pure imagination and are fake, they don't relate to the real people at all.

STATUS: on going! (19.10. 24)

1 2 。。。

Chapter two

It had now been several months since your last relationship.

You couldn't say that it was still an open wound but neither that it didn't tempt you from time to time.

"Wait a second, what do you mean by that?" you asked trying to process the words of the boy in front of you.

He sighed, passing his hand over his face before returning his gaze to you.

"I mean that...it’s so boring being with you y/n..." he then added.

Not hearing a response from you he continued his speech.

"You're always talking about those children, what they do, what they tell you...do you ever think about me?"

"Eric of course I think about you, why the fuck would you say-"

"Well it doesn't seem like it, you're starting to treat me like a child too!" he added, raising his voice slightly.

"Of course I'm treating you like a child when you think exactly like one!"

"y/n..."

"it's over."

“Stupid child.”

That was all you could think remembering how Eric had thrown away your 3 years old relationship because he was jealous of your students.

It was an inevitably comical situation but inside you the fear of starting something new with someone remained constant.

Kevin and Vivienne had tried several times to introduce you to new people and even made you join (without your knowledge) a dating app but the results were always terrible.

Of course what your best friend did not expect was to see you completely crushing on the father of one of your students.

It had not escaped her at all how for the past week you had been much more radiant and perfectly dressed up in the mornings and staying late every day waiting for the last parent (who happened to always be Juyeon) to arrive.

And of course you had not missed her glances whenever you greeted Juyeon on the way out.

"What's wrong?" you asked her one afternoon while the children were playing in the garden.

"Nothing" she gave a sly smile as she shrugged slightly.

"Why are you looking at me like that then?"

"Because you just can't hide anything, you're embarrassing."

"What?" you looked at her shocked "What do you mean by that?" you said snorting a laugh.

"When were you planning to tell me about your crush on Lee Juyeon also known as Isabelle's father?" she said resting her hands on her hips like a mother scolding her daughter.

You turned to look at her, feigning an embarrassed laugh.

"What crush?! He’s a married man Viv! I have no crush on anyone."

Vivienne came dangerously close to your face, startling you.

“I probably shouldn't tell you this but..just so you know, he's a single father."

Oh.

"Unless he's married to that Paul guy, their numbers are the only ones saved in the parent registry."

“Oh.” your brain couldn’t process anything else.

“Still, why would he look at his daughter teacher?” you said.

“Because you’re hot?”

“Viv.”

She raised her eyes, sighing.

"Anyways, I'm totally rooting for you, don't let me down" she finished with a wink.

And before you could say something, here she was already rushing off to entertain the children with some group dances, leaving you alone to sigh.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

That same afternoon, while helping Isabelle color another one of her thousand drawings here it was the angelic figure of Juyeon appearing from the doorframe.

Always like the first time.

The little girl, as always, ran into her father's arms as you followed her while still keeping a distance between you and them.

"How did it go today?" he asked the little girl.

"Good! We learned the colors in English! Red, yellow,blue, black-" the little girl said in response as she began to list all the colors she had learned that morning.

"That's so good! Listen to how well you pronounce them, I'm so proud of you." he said and just then he turned to look at you, causing you to miss a few beats.

"Did she behave well?"

You nodded, smiling.

"Of course she did, she is so sweet and very smart, I was amazed to hear how she still remembered all the colors, usually they tend to forget them after a few hours" You replied, looking at the little girl and giving her a light caress in her hair that made her laugh a little.

The man next to you smiled, nodding slightly.

"I'm glad to hear that, i guess she’s not like her daddy, thankfully"he said, leaving her a light kiss on her cheek.

"Well, I think it’s time to go and free Miss Y/n, Grandma is waiting for us at home" he then added, leaving the little girl on the floor.

After the usual goodbyes you watched them walking toward the exit before a flash hit your memory.

"Ah, Mr. Lee!" You said, drawing the attention of the man who turned to look at you.

"I don't know if you've been notified yet but this Friday is Children-Parents Day, we're doing some activities and then doing a little meeting to inform parents of the plans for the school year...I know it might be a problem for your work so don't worry if you can't make it I tak-"

"I'll definitely be there." he interrupted you with a smile.

"Oh, very well then, see you tomorrow!"

They left you with one last goodbye before disappearing behind the school doors.

"We were saying?" a voice said behind you, that you recognized as Vivienne's, scaring you.

"Shut up."

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Friday arrived sooner than expected and especially sooner than it should have because now, an hour before the start of activities, you were already running from one side of the school to the other to keep everything under control.

Colours, games, sheets of paper, music.

Everything seemed to be according to plan.

Except for your hair which, despite this morning's efforts, had already become a unique mess.

You took advantage of a moment of rest to quickly gather it into a braid and then head for the entrance where the children had started to arrive.

The atmosphere at school that day was livelier than usual, with the laughter of parents and children filling the rooms.

It was, if nothing else, one of your favourite days of the school year.

Caught up chatting with parents about this and that, a pair of hands that wrapped themselves around your leg took you by surprise.

"Miss. Y/n!" Isabelle's little voice exclaimed, calling for your attention.

Your face opened into a happy, surprised expression and apologetically you turned around, taking the little girl in your arms and giving her your undivided attention.

She was, as usual, fully perfectly dressed with a long braid similar to yours and a large bow at the end of it.

"Isa! How beautiful you look today! Did you come with Paul?" you asked as the little girl shook her head.

"I promised I'd be there, didn't I?" a voice behind you answered for her.

You turned to see the usual Lee Juyeon with his usual sculpted face and a suit, totally out of place in a kindergarten.

With a smile that could make anyone collapse, he approached your figure as you had to beg all the strength in the universe to keep your legs solid and stable on the ground.

"It's good to see you Mr. Lee, I guess Isa is glad to have her daddy at school today" you said looking at the little one who was now nodding brightly.

"Daddy look! Miss. Y/n has a braid like me!" said the little one noticing your close-cropped hair.

"Oh" replied the man looking tenderly at how the little girl had started playing with your hair "It looks very good on her, I can't deny it." he continued and your cheeks suddenly turned a bright shade of red.

You tried to huff out a nervous laugh, bringing your attention back to Isa so as not to cross her gaze.

"Isa looks beautiful in this braid, this bow is gorgeous!" you tried to shift your attention back to the little girl but she was blatantly playing devil's advocate.

"Daddy made it for me! Give Miss Y/n a bow too daddy!”

"Oh no, no need Isa really-" but before you could finish the sentence Juyeon had already pulled a bow out of his pocket and was handing it to you.

"I'll take a couple with me, just in case she needs them-" he said almost embarrassed after pulling a pink bow out of his dark suit.

You could do nothing but say thank you and take the bow which, promptly, Isa threaded through your hair.

"Now we are the same!" the delighted child exclaimed and in front of that smile you completely melted.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

After a short time, everyone was invited to go into their classrooms and next to Vivienne you started to illustrate the first activity.

It was a simple art project where parents and children collaborated in drawing but the results were always wonderful and the families always came out happy.

Passing between the tables you would try to lend a hand in case help was needed or just to get the children to tell you about their work.

At one point Vivienne touched your shoulder lightly, drawing your attention.

"I think you need to give your favourite one a hand” she said only pointing with her head in the direction of Juyeon and Isabelle where the man, now covered in glitter, was trying to glue them onto the drawing, failing miserably.

A light laugh came out of your mouth before you reached their small table, clearly too small for the man.

"How's the masterpiece coming along over here?" you said once you reached their coffee table.

Juyeon looked up laughing, slightly embarrassed.

"Well, I'm not sure if we're going for abstract or accidental...but we're getting somewhere." he said as Isabelle had started wandering around the table, looking for the colours she needed.

"Abstract art is always a good choice. It leaves room for interpretation." you said, laughing slightly.

Juyeon raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"So, what's your professional interpretation of...this?" he said, pointing to the glitter-filled sheets that occupied the table.

You lowered yourself onto your knees to observe them more closely, with the father and daughter by your side.

"Hmm... I'd say it's a bold exploration of colour and chaos. Very avant-garde." you replied playfully, seeing Isabelle's confused face trying to understand what this avant-garde was.

Juyeon snorted a laugh while giving you a slight smirk.

"What can I say? I'm committed to the art."

"Clearly. Perhaps only a little help is needed to represent Isa's wonderful artistic vision."

"Oh? You think we need professional help?" he asked, sounding almost defiant.

"Absolutely Mr.Lee-"

"Please, call me Juyeon." he said with a gentle smile.

Fucckk, he's so hot.

"OK..Juyeon, lucky for you, I just happen to be an art enthusiast and a kindergarten teacher. Two birds, one stone." you replied, feigning some big ego that Vivienne would certainly be proud of.

"I don't know, we might be a lost cause. But I could never refuse the help of an expert.”he replied, making room between the two of them.

You then moved between them, now bringing your attention to Isa.

"So what's the plan?"

And as you listened attentively to Isabelle's request for a big pink glittery unicorn (after all, what could you expect from a five-year-old?) you felt Juyeon's watchful gaze on your every move.

Between a pink pencil and a tube of glitter you looked up, meeting his eyes.

Trying to ignore the beat that your heart just lost, you gave him a slightly smile.

"What? Surprised I can paint too?" you said teasingly but with a softer tone.

Juyeon smirked slightly.

"A little. I didn't know kindergarten teachers had so many hidden talents." he said taking a marker, continuing to colour under his daughter's orders.

"Let's just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve" you replied, keeping a smile on your face.

"I guess I can't wait to find out the others."

And after that sentence your brain went into shutdown.

There was a slight silence, a comfortable pause as the children's laughter and parents' chatter filled that void.

What?

The whole thought was interrupted by Isabelle who, having completed her drawing, lifted it into the air for her father to see.

"Daddy, look! The unicorn!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Juyeon, breaking the moment with a chuckle, looked at his daughter's work.

"That looks awesome, sweetie. We might just have to hang even this one up at home."

You stared at them, smiling warmly.

"See? A little guidance can go a long way." you said.

Juyeon turned his head to look at you, but you're too busy talking with his daughter again.

"Yeah, I guess it can." he just said by himself.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

After the morning activity all children, with parents attached, are invited to the afternoon refreshment in the schoolyard.

Hearing the children's laughter as they play with each other fills your heart with joy enormously, especially when accompanied by the stories of the parents who madly love to talk about their children.

And you just have to listen to them happily.

That was before, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the other figure of Juyeon standing alone and watching from afar as Isa played with his friends, while from a saucer he ate the cake one of the teachers had prepared for the day.

The scene warmed your heart and apologising to the parents, you headed towards the drinks table to get a second glass of lemonade and then walked towards the man who was now choking on the previously mentioned cake.

"Here, you look like you could use this” you said handing him the glass, laughing slightly at the scene.

He thanked you with a look, taking the glass and drinking immediately to calm his coughing fits.

Once he was stable again, he turned to look at you.

"Thanks, great cake anyway" he only said, making you laugh heartly.

"Don't worry, you seemed to be enjoying it a bit too much" you replied amused.

"How's it going?" you added, sipping from your glass.

"Good I guess..I'm not really good at these kinds of things." he replied, scratching his head.

"What, you don't enjoy awkward small talk with strangers?"

"It's not my strong suit." he replied, laughing nervously.

"You know…you're allowed to relax. Isabelle's having lots of fun." you said, watching the children play from afar.

"Yeah, she really is, isn't she? Sometimes I forget she's growing up so much every day".

"That's because you love her so much. But it's okay to let yourself enjoy these moments too. She'll be just fine," you said gently, trying to relax those big shoulders that remained tense, looking at his little girl from afar.

Juyeon then turned his gaze slowly to you, slightly hesitant.

"You seem to know how to balance everything so well. How do you do it?"

You turned to look at him and your gazes met again, making your heart flutter a little.

"Years of practice with little ones. And, well, sometimes you just have to remind yourself to breathe. You're allowed to enjoy the moment too, Juyeon," you replied, smiling.

He smiled back, turning and looking at the children.

"I think I could learn a thing or two from you," he said alone.

"I think you're doing pretty well already," you replied.

And so the refreshments ended, taking everyone back to their respective classrooms.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

The day passed quickly, amidst dances and songs that enlivened all the parents and entertained the children, soon it was time for talks between parents and teachers.

You and Vivienne split up the families to take less time and get everyone out as soon as possible.

While the children continued playing, one by one the parents went in and out of your classroom door to hear what they needed to know about their children.

Fortunately, your class was a good one and so there were no special cases to analyse or help.

Just when you thought you'd seen the last of the parents, Juyeon appeared through the doorway, with that usual damn smile.

Obviously, Vivienne had played her cards right to get you two alone.

Damn her.

"May I?" he said, entering the classroom and pointing to the chair in front of your desk.

You gestured for him to take a seat.

"You know, for a teacher, you didn't warn me that I'd be wearing half the art supplies by the end of the day," he said, noticing some paint and glitter stains on his suit.

"Hey, I did warn you. You were too busy showing off to Isabelle to listen." you laughed, shaking your head slightly.

"Showing off? I was just responding to her orders. Big difference." he said, playing offended.

"I noticed, you put in a lot of effort, I'm glad."

Juyeon chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, clearly enjoying the little back-and-forth.

"What can I say?" he started.

"My kid brings it out in me. She thinks I'm some sort of superhero, so I have to live up to the hype, right?"

You nodded.

"Isabelle adores you, you know. She talks about you all the time. You're not just her superhero-you're her whole world." you replied with a sweet smile, remembering all the times the little girl mentioned her daddy when she had a chance.

"Yeah, she's my world too. Everything I do is for her."

You watch him for a moment, seeing the tenderness in his eyes.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing enough, you know? It's just the two of us, and I worry... about missing things, or not being there the way I should."

Hearing him open up so much to you made your heart warm with joy, and all you could think about was how much love there was between the father and the daughter.

"You're there in all the ways that matter. You can see it in how happy she is. How confident she's becoming. That's all because of you." you said with a sweet look, trying to comfort him.

There's a beat of silence, the atmosphere growing a little more serious, Juyeon's gaze softens as he looks at your eyes.

“I have to thank you too. You're so good with her, y/n. She really looks up to you. It's like... she feels safe around you."

You couldn't hide a smile at his words.

"Isabelle's a special kid. She's so sweet, and once she opens up, she's got so much love to give. Honestly, she makes my job easier" you replied.

"Yes, I can see where she gets it from" he began, "And I can see why she likes you so much. You've got that effect on people." he continued, leaving you completely speechless.

Your cheeks turned red again and your smile became more playful, trying to joke about it so you wouldn't lose your mind.

"Is that your way of complimenting me again, Juyeon? Because I'm keeping track, you know." you asked, teasing him a little bit.

He gave a slight smirk before continuing to speak.

"You deserve all the compliments. I just happen to be the one lucky enough to give them."

Oh fuck, he's good, he's really good.

It took you a few seconds to process it all and when you regained consciousness, a soft laugh came out of your mouth.

"You're impossible, you know that?" you ask, trying to escape his gaze.

"Maybe. But you're still here."

There was this energy in the air that you cannot quite define.

Lost in his gaze a thousand questions come back to you.

Is he really flirting with me? Or is he just trying to be friends?

There is clearly something that seems to attract you to each other and anyone, even outside that room, could see that.

Trying to find words along your vocal chords,you shook your head, smiling slightly.

"I guess I am," you only said , before being interrupted by Isabelle's small voice.

"Dad! Miss. Y/n! Look at my new drawing!" she said, making you laugh slightly before returning your full attention to the little one, but the spoken words and tension were still hovering vividly in the room.

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

After this meeting the situation between you seemed to be going great.

There were no particular developments but those light chats at the end of classes warmed your hearts before going home.

Vivienne often monitored the situation from afar, nodding proudly at her best friend.

By now Juyeon and Isabelle had become part of your everyday life and you couldn't be happier.

Yet your heart did not stop beating fiercely every time your glances crossed a little too long or when your hands brushed lightly against each other.

But it was still all too abstract, still a simple crush that all your friends were already sick of.

Until, on a cloudy Friday afternoon, while you and Isabelle waited as usual for Juyeon colori g together, he arrived with two coffees and a small brown bag in his hands.

"Hey there! I brought you both a little something to brighten the day." he said, slightly raising what he had in his hand.

The little girl as usual ran to hug him and then let her curiosity get the better of her as she tried to peek inside the bag.

Smiling you got up from your chair as your eyes shone with happiness at the sight of the coffee in the man’s hands.

He looked at you, returning the happy gaze.

With the weather announcing no improvement and the fact that you hadn't been able to have a proper lunch, that coffee to you really seemed like a goldmine.

Juyeon smiled before listening to little Isabelle's insistence, gripped by curiosity to know the contents of the bag.

“What's in there Dad? Is it snacks? Is it Dad?" she asked.

"Maybe darling, but first, coffee for Miss Y/n. She's been working hard all day." he said and then handed you the hot cup.

You took the cup, smelling the sweet scent coming from it, feeling in heaven.

"This is perfect, i swear. How did you know I was running on fumes?" you asked, taking a light sip from the cup.

"I can read some signs you know? Especially when the teacher starts looking more like a painting than a person." said Juyeon and with a smile he pointed with his head at the thousand colours that now occupied your apron.

You looked at yourself slightly and then burst out laughing.

"I guess you're probably right" you nodded, continuing to drink from your cup as the man in front of you reached down towards his daughter and pulled out the biscuits he had diligently chosen and bought.

Watching them interact a sweet smile formed on your face, everything seemed so perfect.

Once the little girl had her own biscuit, according to her father's instructions, she went to collect her things, leaving you and Juyeon alone again.

"Anyway, the coffee is also to thank you. I appreciate everything you do for her. She really loves coming to your class. And also to apologise for the very frequent delays" he began, scratching his head slightly embarrassed.

You turned to look at him, a sweet and sincere smile on your lips.

"Don't worry Juyeon and plus,I love being with her. She brightens my day every time."

As always, your gazes met, sending sparks flying across the room.

Juyeon took a long breath before resuming speaking.

"You know... I was wondering. I mean, since you've already admitted to liking my coffee... maybe I could treat you to a cup sometime. Outside of the classroom." he said alone, lowering his voice slightly.

You raised an interested eyebrow.

"Are you asking me on a coffee date, Mr. Coffee Barista?" you asked, teasing him like always.

"Yeah, I am. That is, if you're willing to see if my coffee is as good outside the classroom." he said then.

You pretended to think about it, lightly touching your chin with your finger with an exaggerated thoughtfulness before breaking into a grin.

"Well, I suppose I could be convinced. But I'm tough on dates, you know." you replied at last.

He shrugged slightly.

"I'll take my chances. What's life without a little risk?"

He then pulled out his phone, handing it to you.

"So... do you think I can have your number for this very important coffee date?"

Smiling, you took his phone, no need to think twice.

You typed your number, leaving him to choose the name for the contact.

"There you go. But remember, I take my coffee very seriously." you said, handing the phone back to him.

He took the phone back with a slight smirk on his face.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll make sure it's the best cup you've ever had." he said and interrupting the moment was Isabelle who, having finished tidying up and with her backpack on her shoulder, had run over.

"Can I have a coffee date too, Dad?" she asked genuinely making you laugh in unison, filling the room with your laughter and the little one's confused look.

Once you waved them goodbye on their way out, Vivienne's presence beside you came like lightning.

"So...coffee date mh?"

You turned to look at her slightly.

"I don't know how many 'shut ups' I have in me anymore, you know?"

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

writer notes: hope you’re liking this! （＾ν＾） kisses

[liillyliilly]

Lost In Yesterday

ushijima wakatoshi x reader words; 1446 synopsis; Ushijima wished that things would always stay like they were when it was yesterday. When Y/n moves out of his yesterday, will he be able to keep up?

[Eventually, terrible memories turn into great ones]

Ushijima Wakatoshi doesn’t know what it means to be subtle. Even as a second year in middle school, when he first saw Y/n he knew he needed to say something about the way she looked or else it would just kill him.

“You are very pretty.”

Y/n just gave a small smile and said something in what he could only recognize as English. When she walked off to her desk in the second row, Ushijima knew he was in for a challenge. Being quiet himself, he realized this wasn’t a good match to try and win. His confidence was at an all-time low, as he looked on at her trying to find ways to fit in at school. She would try and use her hands to talk, or resort to drawing what she was talking about. But when people would just shrug and walk off, he felt like seething because Y/n honestly didn’t deserve that.

The one time he tried to get her to play volleyball with him was when he saw her sitting under a tree flipping through a book. But when she just shook her head and pointed at a group of other kids, Ushijima set the ball down and sat next to her. He felt like he was going to burn himself from how much heat was rushing to his face. When she tried to talk to him using small phrases, he felt endeared to her because even though she could only talk like a small child she had tried her hardest. And he could commend her on that.

He thought he would try and pick up on his English when he got home that day. As he laid on the floor, looking through an English dictionary, his eyes wandered to the volleyball sitting right by the door. But he refocused and lasered his eyes onto the pages of words.

“You can do this. Do it for L/n.”

The next day at school, he swallowed thickly before going up to Y/n and making conversation.

“You and I are friends.” He meant it to be more of a question but the reaction Y/n gave was enough of motivator to keep him learning English.

As he went through Middle school and eventually was in his first and second years of High School, Ushijima kept learning English. And while Y/n improved her Japanese and Kanji writing skills, she was still lacking in a lot of descriptive words and could only make out simple sentences. Which gave Ushijima the opportunity to say whatever he was thinking without getting too flustered, knowing that she wouldn’t understand unless he repeated the words.

“Your eyes remind me of the passion I have for volleyball. Deep and pure.” He mustered out as Y/n was resting her head on her hands reading the same magazine as him. They were sitting across from each other at his kitchen table. And if he lowered his gaze, he could see the colors of the magazine running across her eyes.

“What was that?” She set a hand on the magazine page, lifting her head and straightening her back so that she could be semi-eye level with him.

“Nothing to worry about.”

The days he spent trying to keeping growing as friends with her turned into weeks, that turned into months, that turned into a strong bond going into third year.

[Does it help to get lost in yesterday?]

Ushijima Wakatoshi feels like the only time he ever experienced true jealously was when Y/n started going on dates with the boys on the volleyball team. Even as a blunt person, he just couldn’t ever bring up the fact that he also wanted to take her out on a date. At least once. He could deal with meeting and challenging other volleyball players, but the idea of facing Y/n left a sickly-sweet taste in his mouth.

He didn’t notice just how much she had changed from his second year in middle school, until she started to speak to him in near perfect Japanese. Or how she made friends easier than he did. Or the way she laughed at the jokes his team members uttered. He figured the best way to approach this was to talk to Tendou.

“Satori, how do I make a joke?” Ushijima was laying on his dorm bed, his volleyball resting on his chest.

“Oh, is this mayhaps about the foreign girl?” Tendou kicked the desk he was sitting at and slid across the dorm floor with his office chair, only stopping when his chair hit the edge of Ushijima’s bed.

“There are millions of foreign girls Satori.”

“But there’s only one L/n.” Tendou sang, as he wiggled his fingers in the same way he used to taunt their opponents.

“That is true.”

['Cause it might've been somethin', who's to say?]

Ushijima Wakatoshi was never one to regret things. But he regretted ever letting his heart become Y/n’s, if only for an hour. Recently Y/n had been going on and on about some boy in her math class. And it itched at Ushijima. Every time she said his name in that very specific tone of voice, it scratched at him. She would talk about what it would be like if she ever did confess, saying something about it ‘being something, but really who’s to say’.

“And he lent me a pencil when mine ran out of lead. Can you believe that?” She sighed dreamily, and put her hands to her face and held back a smile.

“I can give you a pencil.” Ushijima handed her a pencil.

“Thanks, Ushi, but it was different when he did it.” She twirled the pencil around her hand. Toying not only with the writing tool, but also toying with Ushijima’s heart. It was some sort of game where she continued to just give him hope then steal it away at the last moment.

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. It just felt,” She muttered in English for minute before getting her light bulb moment. “It felt like some sort of made for TV movie about teenage romance.”

“Real romance is not the same as it is in the movies L/n.” Ushijima clarified. He didn’t want Y/n to mix her reality with the incessant daydreams she wandered through.

Real romance wasn’t just a love at first sight thing. Real romance is knowing and understanding a person on such a deep level where you could probably be more conscious of them than your own self.

“I know.” Y/n huffed, and handed the pencil back to him. But he just closed her fingers over her palm so she kept gripping the pencil.

“So why are you fawning over it?” Ushijima was stuck. He wanted to stay in his yesterday of simply talking to Y/n about her books, or school work, or even just listening to her blabber in an incomprehensible jumble of English and Japanese.

“Ushi, you sound angry.” Y/n set the pencil down on the nearest table in his room.

He didn’t want to be angry. He just had had enough of the waiting around for yesterday to happen again.

“I am.”

“Why?” Y/n tilted her head.

“Because I like you.” He confessed.

“I like you too Ushi, but I don’t know what that has to do with this.”

Ushijima wanted to pull his hair out. Ushijima wanted to grab her shoulders and shake any form of sense into her head. Ushijima wanted to stare at her eyes and watch as the vivid colors swirled around with her emotions. Ushijima wanted something so simple, but why wasn’t he getting any sort of response.

“No, you do not understand. I like you.”

“I like you too! But why are you being mean?” Y/n huffed and turned around so that she wasn’t facing him anymore. It seemed so childish and immature. But it was the only way to protect herself from having to directly look at him.

“Can I show you?” Ushijima walked around Y/n so that they were facing each other again.

“Sure.” Y/n still wasn’t meeting his eyes

He leaned in and pressed his lips onto of hers. He didn’t try to go further by moving his lips. He was content with just having his lips touch hers. But when she pressed back and her hands moved up to run through his olive colored hair, he was no longer lost in his yesterday. The yesterday of staying still and watching everything from a defensive stance. Because, it isn’t yesterday any longer. It’s today.

[sunlaire]

Tell us more about Maid Irving please 👀 Your drawings of him are sooo good and if there is an AU behind it, i want to know more !!

sent by @strogoff-era (who doesn't know how to send messages from sideblogs lol)

@strogoff-era LISTEN. OKAY SO. THANK YOU FOR ASKING. I'm not the best writer. And this is pure self indulgence that's all the disclaimer I'm adding before diving into this AU. Basically, Irving is a young man who is looking for work and he happens to meet Mr. Jopson at a shop, who tells him all about the house he works at and how they're looking to hire someone actually. (Jopson is crozier's valet in this au. he's like the Top Bitch, the head servant)

Irving assumes he's going to be a footman or something but when he shows up for the job, jopson's says he's being hired on as a maid and Irving is like, "wait that can't be right. Can I talk to the boss?"

Crozier is super nice, all "come in sit down, I hear from Mr. Jopson that you'll be staying with us." I like the idea that Jopson does the hiring since he's the one who will have to work with and train the people on the job. Anyway, Irving is trying to figure out how to ask his questions when the door opens, and there's a blonde man with a pleasant smile and a tray of tea. Oh and he's wearing an ankle length maid dress.

Irving is stunned. Sitting there, back straight, hands in his lap. He accepts his cup of tea awkwardly. Crozier is talking again "if the pay is agreeable then you can start today." Will he...have to wear a dress? He wants to ask, the words are crowding his mouth. But it's just one of those situations. One of those classic situations, almost cliche really, where he needs the money, he needs the lodging. And deep in his heart, the thought of wearing the dress disgusts, intrigues, excites him in a confusing mixture of reactions. So he agrees to the terms. For the money, not because he wants to wear a dress or anything of course not.

And just, ahhh my brain is thinking of a thousand moments from this non-existent fic. Like, the first time he puts on the dress, and hes having trouble with the small ties and buttons because his hands are shaking. It's mortifying, thrilling, humiliating in a burning kind of way.

Or how he only wears men's clothes when he goes to church on Sunday. And how after a couple months, it actually feels strange to put on trousers. It unsettles him, until he can get back to the house and put the dress on.

OH AND AND, Irving hasnt had to share his room, but then they hire a new games keeper (ex-marine, tozer) and they have to share. But no one tells him so he's just in his room after a day of working, taking off his apron and folding it when the door opens. And he's instantly embarrassed, like "p-pardon me, sir! This is my room".

And this strange man is like "yeah, I was told I would be rooming with someone called Irving. That you?" And oh what he must think of him, standing there in a dress. He'll get the complete wrong idea of the type of man Irving is. And I'm going crazy bonkers thinking about this au. This is just the tip of the iceberg.

[08melancholie]

Honeysuckle and Whiskey. — Micah Bell/OC

tags: Mid-Canon, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Chapter 1: Colter (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 3: Clemens Point (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 4: Saint Denis (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 5: Guarma (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 6: Beaver Hollow (Red Dead Redemption 2), How Do I Tag, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, just a dash of smut, mainly fluff and angst, Abuse, Past Abuse, Abusive Relationships, past abusive relationships, Grooming, Implied/Referenced Grooming, Pedophilia, Implied/Referenced Pedophilia, Colm O'Driscoll Being an Asshole, Torture, Burning, Stockholm Syndrome, descriptive torture, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, or a secret fourth thing, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Romantic Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Attempted Sexual Assault

summary: Closed-off and rough; mean and unforgiving, uncaring and simply horrible. The apathetic cowboy draws himself no attention, usually. He's always sat around camp, slumped over a table or bent down, elbows on his knees as he cleans his guns or sharpens his knife, carving the one same piece of wood for days. He didn't talk much; he felt himself way too high above the others to even converse—exception being Dutch.

That's who Micah Bell was, simply. She couldn't change it.

Micah Bell is a threat to anyone that crosses his path, and Melody knows it. So why has she gotten herself so involved with the outlaw? She tried to keep to herself countless of times; he hated her, she wasn't a pure American and that alone should have been enough to draw her away—and yet it simply never did.

Maybe it was just a rebound, wanting to feel something after feeling nothing from her horrible, previous partner—similar in many ways to the blonde cowboy—for years. Maybe it was his careless and cocky demeanor she never failed to give a chuckle to. And maybe, it was something more. She was going to figure it out, one way or another. They would; together.

a/n: ive had this cooking for months and this is the first of it im posting so im VERY nervous... :( it was going to be a long oneshot at first BUT im forcing myself to do it in chapters so that i have to continue writing it because ive neglected it for months now. also tags are going to change a lot probably

words: 2,658 | AO3 LINK I. — MASTERLIST

The wind picked up quicker than before as Melody rode along Colm through the storm. She could feel her body shivering no matter how many layers of coats and undershirts she put on before riding out. She gently brushed her horse's nose, trying to comfort her through the storm. "You reckon we're gonna find it soon? Joey said it's nearby.." She spoke up, looking to the man to her left.

"Surely. Hold on a bit longer." He replied coldly, riding his horse through the piles of snow effortlessly. She picked up her pace too, riding alongside his steed. "We gotta push a bit more." He added, his gloved hand rested on his lap.

She continued riding until the blizzard started clearing off, and they had a better view of the landscape before themselves. That's when he and Melody both noticed it; an abandoned outpost, exactly what Joey found before parting with the gang to seek it out. "Is that it?" She asked, hand hovering over her forehead to get a better view and block out the snow falling from above. "It sure looks like it."

He halted his horse next to her. "Must be it, c'mon." He ordered, and she followed him down the mountain.

They hitched their horses outside, and she followed close behind Colm. With her hand on her holstered revolver, Melody snuck around behind Colm, checking rooms with caution. "Clear!" He yelled to the rest of the gang, who moved their carriages in and hitched their horses next to their own. "Good job spottin' this gem. I'm sure Joey will be here soon." He says to Melody, taking a cigarette out of his box and offering her one. She nods, taking the offered cigarette and popping it into her mouth.

He manages to light a match on the denim of his jeans, holding it up to the tip of his cigarette "I sure hope so. We ain't seen him a few days." Melody comments, letting him light her cigarette soon after his own. "We already been losin' too much folk." She adds.

"Don't you worry. I've got it under control; those were necessary sacrifices, child." He says, his words not as reassuring as she'd hoped. Still, she nods with a small smile at him and watches him return it.

She moved her few things into the cabin closest to Colm's—by his command. Melody huffed as she finished setting everything, walking out to check everyone else's progress. She observed them with another cigarette hanging from her mouth. "You done unpackin', kid?" Colm came up behind her, hands rested on his hips as he watched everyone work alongside Melody. "How quick you are." He adds.

Melody just chuckled, blowing smoke into the cold air above. "Yes, I'm done. Do you need any help? Anything I could do for you?" She asks him, awkwardly fiddling with the cigarette between her fingers.

"Maybe." He replies, placing his hand on her shoulder as he continues watching. "Got a train 'round here that needs robbin'. Buncha snobby, rich nobodies." He explains. "We need dynamite. I got a plan on how to rob 'em."

"I'm sure I can find myself a general store nearby, I'll buy some." Melody replies, puffing a cloud of tobacco into the air.

He firmed his grip on her shoulder, his grip tight. "Attagirl." He whispered into her ear, and she just exhaled with a weak smile. "That's why you're my favourite." His breath brushed against her ear, and it made a chill travel along Melody's spine.

First night in her own cabin was weird, everything about it—from the cold temperature swearing to kill her of frostbite, to insomnia from fear they were occupying someone's outpost and would be shot in their sleep—just felt off, and Melody found herself tossing in her restless state on the mildly uncomfortable bedroll.

So much has happened in the last few weeks; from having to move camp a dozen times, losing a few weaker members in the process—to Colm's weird obsession with a rival gang rising again after he swore they were done with it.

Melody got up and stretched her legs out, anxiously lighting her fourth cigarette today for any sense of warmth it'll offer. "Fuck this damned storm." She looked out of the window as the specks of snow danced around the air, covering more ground and raising the snow level, little by little.

She finished the cigarette in a few minuscule minutes, and climbed back under the thin covers, trying to get some shuteye before tomorrow.

"You sure you ain't wanna come, Melody? It'll do you good to go out'a bit." Colm straddled his horse, looking down at her before him as Melody stroked his horse's nose.

"I'm far too tired, Colm. Plus, I need to get started on some chores and.. fixing this place up a bit." She replied, looking around at the buried outpost grounds, covered with thick layers of snow.

He chuckled, a sense of lust in his eyes as he looked down. "That's my girl; always so hard workin' for old Colm." He praised. "Someone's gonna have to reward you nicely for your contributions." He chuckled slyly, making Melody scrunch up her nose briefly. "Well then, I'll leave you to it." He urged his horse forward with a swift kick in the ribs, leaving the camp grounds.

Melody sighed, turning to make a mental note of all that needs to be done around camp before starting her round of chores, running on one cup of warm coffee and two hours of rest. Just great.

Colm returned in a few hours, a crate of province and some dynamite on his horse's back. She walked over to him, grabbing the province to put it away. "Hey. You got the dynamite?" She questioned him.

He hitched his horse, taking the dynamite and walking close by Melody, towards his cabin. "Yeah.. Figured I'd get it off your hands since I knew you'd be workin' hard by the time I was back," He responded, chuckling. "and I see that I was right, my good girl's being very productive, ain't ya?" He opened his cabin door with his elbow, placing the dynamite in the corner.

Melody chuckled nervously; his words leaving a distaste in her mouth, per usual. "Well, thank you Colm." She replied simply.

"Anything for you, child." He walked up to her, placing a firm grasp on her shoulders again. "I saw someone all too familiar while ridin' to the store." He announces, releasing his hands and placing them behind his back.

"Do tell." She answered, sitting down on his desk, swaying her feet off the edge slowly as she hunched over and placed her forearms on her knees. He turned, a mischievous grin on his lips.

He paces around the room. "Little ole Hosea Matthews, saw him on my way there." He answers, and Melody is taken aback by his words; which Colm just chuckles at. "Yeah, I'm surprised he ain't seen me."

She cocks her head at him. "You reckon he ain't recognised you?" She asked. "All them years of conflict, you sure he ain't just ignored you in hopes of gettin' out in one piece?" She chuckled briefly.

He stops abruptly, laughing. "Oh, sweet child. You're quite funny." He walks over in her direction. "You could be right." He says, placing each hand on one side of her body, which stiffens at the contact; now trapped on the table. "You know, you're such a smart girl, I could lis-"

A not-so-distant gunshot goes off, scaring both people in the process. "The hell..?" Melody mutters, awkwardly slipping away from his entrapment to a window. "I reckon my theory was right.. except he also snitched." Colm walked up behind Melody, looking out of the window.

Outside stood a fraction of Dutch Van der Linde's gang; Arthur Morgan, Micah Bell, Hosea Matthews and—of course—Dutch himself.

"Ah, fuck." he cursed under his breath. "Okay, girl. You go cover me while I.. I need to move away from the area." He explains frantically.

"Yeah.. Yeah I can do that." Melody says—already used to this by now—and, taking her revolver out of its holster swiftly, walks up to the door. She opens it slowly, leaving it ajar for Colm to slip out as she starts shooting back, catching the leader's glimpse.

His accuracy is almost perfect as he glazed both a strand of her hair just above her ear and immediately catches on to start shooting at the door she finds shelter behind. She takes a shot of her own, missing the first but taking his hat off just above his forehead as he ducks.

The shootout was brutal; only a few of Colm's members survived it, with some successfully hiding away from the area as they searched the outpost. Melody watched them take the train plans, along with their dynamite, and hurry off while boasting about it all, feeling victorious.

"How is it my fault, Colm? I did my best to protect you, I managed to shoot one in the arm, too!" Melody defended herself against Colm's usual outburst when things go wrong; where he blames every soul but himself, no matter if it's nobody's or everybody's fault.

He grunted angrily. "I don't care! They took the plans, and we have to move again!" He complains. Melody opens her mouth to protest, but is met with his hand high in the air before her—threatening to strike; something she's all too used to. "Don't. I don't wanna see you talkin' back to me." He ordered firmly.

And yet she still attempts to speak—like the fool she is. "Colm, I'm just trying to-"

And there it is. She's met with a hard, rough slap of the back of his hand, knocking her to the floor as Melody clenches her rosy red cheek, already teary-eyed. She opens her mouth to apologise, but decides against it as she notices that look in his eyes. He shakes his head in disapproval at her on the floor, choking up a silent sob. And so, she just gets up and walks out to pack her things.

Packing didn't take nearly as long as expected; calming herself did. She had everything in one crate, and was sitting on the bedroll in the cabin with a burning sensation on her left cheek, and a few slow tears trailing her cheekbones and falling into her lap. This was like routine, really; he'd get mad and take it out on her, leave her alone to sulk and then-

The door opens slowly, and Colm's body slowly steps inside—like clockwork. "Hey.. don't be cryin' on me, my sweet Melody. You know.." He sits down on the bedroll next to her. "You know I do it out of love. You know I sometimes lose my temper, don'tcha?" He asked, interwinding his hand into Melody's, rubbing the back of her hand.

"Yes, Colm." She replies simply, looking down at the floor.

Another teardrop meets her lap and she quickly brushes her face with her sleeves.

"Look at me." He commands, placing a uncharacteristically gentle yet firm hand on Melody's chin. "I love you. You know I do." His voice is as firm as his touch, and she just silently nods. She can't help wondering if it's even close to true sometimes. You don't treat someone you love like this, she's well aware of that much. "Good. Good... And you love me too." It's less of a question, and more of a fact to him.

Melody chokes up a response to break the silence. "I do, Colm." She holds his hand just as firmly as he stands up. "Let me get your things, child." He takes the crate off of the nearby table. She just smiles downwards, walking beside him. And that's how the routine ends, every time.

"We'll drive the wagon, girl." He calls out as Melody start straddling her horse. She looks at him with protest, opening her mouth to talk. "Ah Ah.. C'mon, you're with me. Cassidy'll take good care of your horse." He taps the seat on the coach next to him-and she can't not-oblige, leaving the reins in Cassidy's hands reluctantly. "Attagirl." He watches Melody sit down next to him.

The ride to a new spot is painfully long, and Melody is shivering throughout the whole thing-despite having multiple layers of shirts and jackets and putting gloves on her hands this time. "Where're we goin'?" She asks him, breaking the tense silence among us.

"Off the mountain; there's a spot I scouted out." He replies, hands gripping the coaches reins firmly. "It'll be better for all of us to get out of the cold." He looks at her shivering quickly, snaking his hand around Melody's shoulder and pulling her closer to him.

She obliges and scoots closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank the Lord, then." She snickers, and he exhales with a smirk. "I'll be more than glad to be off that damned mountain.

"Oh, I know; you're shaking like a leaf, girl." He chuckles. "It's a nicer spot too, you'll love it," He snuggles her body closer, pressing her up to his side. "all the best for my best girl." His gloved hand rubs her shoulder, gentle—not like Colm at all.

She soon feels herself—restless from the night before along with the shootout and what followed—start to drift off on his shoulder, and he lets Melody sleep for a little while. She hated how easily she could forgive him for doing what he does, but he might really just have a temper. He's trying. He's trying. That's all she knows, and it's just how he is. Right.

The stage stops at a nice, slightly open area with a few smaller huts and barriers around it. Colm nudges Melody awake slowly, rubbing rough circles on her shoulder. "We're here, girl." He whispers into her ear as she lifts her head off his shoulder and rubs her eyes awake. The warmth of the new location can be immediately recognized, nice and actually comfortable. "C'mon. You'll be in my cabin. With me." He reveals, jumping off the coach as she follows.

"I'll be in the same cabin as you?" Melody repeats his words, puzzled, as she takes her crate with a grunt before following him. He nods his head, stopping before—obviously the biggest cabin—their spot.

"Of course, child." He simply replies, taking the crate she held off of her hands and walking inside. "Ain't it great?" Melody silently nods to answer, almost reluctantly. "Go get the rest of the things from the coach and meet me here." Melody quickly turns on her heels and walks out back to the coach.

They both finish unpacking around the same time, and Melody patiently waits for him to finish whatever on the edge of a cot. "Okay, girl." He firmly taps his thighs and stands up, beckoning her to follow him outside. She obliges quickly, walking right behind him. He calls everyone in a circle, explaining a new score he's gotten information for. Melody can feel herself distracted and spacing out, knowing she won't be invited to the job—per usual, Colm just doesn't trust her enough to let her go with him. As infuriating as it is, her hands are tied.

Maybe she'll get that luxury one day.

Kudos on AO3 always appreciated! I'm honestly so glad to have even just the first chapter of this fic out, as it's been collecting dust in my drafts until the one month deadline—literally the last possible day.

[lovelylotusf1]

loved the second chapter of sweet kitten ahh! i would love to see or hear about charles’ perspective and just how mean he REALLLYYY wanted to be if you ever feel so inclined to chat abt it!

Thank youuu, so happy you enjoyed it <3

Honestly, the only thing holding sweet kitten!Charles back is my inability to figure out where exactly the line between “dom/sub undertones”, “light dom/sub” and “dom/sub” is and just keeping everything as light as possible cause I didn't want to retag it :((

I feel like Charles wants to coax every possible expression out of Max, and if the only option to do it is by making sure Max isn't thinking about anything else but him, then by god will he take that option. It's less about the power dynamic of dom/sub for me, but rather how possessive and obsessed lestappen are with each other. I could see them talking about subspace (read: Charles bringing up the idea and cornering Max about it until he's finally ready to talk), purely because Charles wants to burn the image of Max all spaced out behind his eyes forever. And if Max starts crying out of pleasure, than that's an added bonus for him👀

I saw an ask game going around, where an option was to flip-flop a scene, so here you go anon! A tiny snippet of chapter 2 written from Charles’ perspective as a bonus :D Obvious nsfw under the cut.

“On your side,” Charles orders, his voice leaving no room for compromises.

“What are you going to do?” Max asks quietly, and his voice wavers, an unstable little thing. Delight curses through Charles’ veins at the reaction. He wants to bottle up those sounds so he can replay them all the time, the confident Max Verstappen reduced to a sweet kitty just by pushing a few of his buttons.

Before Charles can answer, Max gets up, wincing slightly.

Poor kitten. Kneeling for so long must have been horribly uncomfortable. Maybe he should have kept him on his knees for longer, just to see if Max would have complained eventually.

He doesn't know which outcome he would like to see more. Telling Max to close his eyes and stick his tongue out, patiently waiting for something that never comes, a fiery blush on his face. Or seeing the brat he knows is in there rise to the surface, trying to intimidate Charles with angry words that sound more like angry hisses from a kitten than being actually frightening. Maybe trying out a few punishments until Max becomes a blubbering mess, just because he can.

Charles' list of things he wants to do to Max keeps getting longer and longer.

But for now, he smiles and makes sure that the threat beneath it is visible. “I can’t fuck you, so I will simply fuck your pretty thighs instead. And you are not allowed to touch me or yourself. You either come because I let you, or not at all, baby.”

Max gapes at him like a fish out of water. Charles simply raises an eyebrow in response, keeping his mouth in a neutral line despite how much the grin on his face wants to form.

With a fresh rush of heat on his cheeks that makes him positively glow, Max slowly lies down on his side, facing the wall.

The sight of him lying there, embarrassed but still obedient, does horrible things to Charles. Makes him want to keep Max naked forever, collar and cat ears the only thing he's allowed to wear. Makes him desperate to figure out if the blush that's on his face and neck can go even further if he just keeps him worked up long enough.

The image of Max's flushed skin covered in hickeys and bruises enters his mind unbiddenly, and Charles bites his bottom lip so hard he almost draws blood. He wonders how long he could get away with toying with Max. Leave him aching and begging for Charles to touch him, and simply refusing it. Maybe Max will start crying if Charles doesn't let him come for hours.

Charles shakes his head to clear the thoughts. He must look ridiculous, but Max can't see him like this, so he doesn't care about his appearance for once.

He already has a plan laid out for today. There will be plenty more opportunities to drive Max crazy.

[strawberryxfieldz]

Garden of Eden (Wally x Reader)

a fluffy Wally/Reader one-shot I posted on my AO3 and figured I’d post on Tumblr!

since my main Wally/Reader fic has a darker plot, I really wanted to write some fluff for the puppet man. no experiencing the dreadful horrors here! Just pure fluff and stuff. short and sweet! Enjoy! @:)

CW for eye contact (yknow how it is)

Welcome Home Masterlist

When you wake up in the morning, you always have the assurance of Wally’s presence beside you. He had a sleep mask on and pajamas but you knew he wasn’t really asleep. Wally didn’t really understand the concept of sleep and took to repeating “I’m sleeping” over and over again in a hushed whisper that lulled you to sleep at night. Right now, though, he was simply smiling, hands folded on his chest.

You leaned over to pull his sleep mask off his face and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Oh!” His face lit up with delight. “You’re awake!”

You cuddled into his side, resting your head in the space between his neck and shoulder. He smiled and put an arm around you, hugging you closer.

“Yeah…” you replied with a tired groan. “Five more minutes before we get out of bed, though. I’m still sleepy.”

“Take your time, my love.” Wally kissed your head as you lay there, peaceful and happy in his arms.

You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this life with Wally but you certainly knew you loved it. You loved that you realized your feelings for each other, that you moved into Home with him, and that you were able to start off every morning like this.

Soon, you’d be out of bed and in the kitchen, helping each other make pancakes. Perhaps some would burn—Wally wasn’t the greatest cook—but you would laugh it off. At some point, you’d push back Wally’s long blue hair that liked to cover half of his face when down. He didn’t enjoy having to go without his pompadour (he used to hate you seeing him like that especially) but he was used to it now. You’d told him enough about how pretty you found him without all his hair products until he believed it. When his whole face was revealed, you gave him a loving, sweet kiss that he'd lean into with a smile.

After, you’d find yourselves underneath the big apple tree in your yard, humming songs and telling stories. Wally’s hair was done by now, and he had a sketchbook in his lap as he doodled many things, including you. You, meanwhile, were doing your best to make a flower crown. Julie taught you how to the other day. Unfortunately, you didn’t seem to be a quick learner.

“It’s not coming out right,” you whined, disappointment high in your voice.

Wally glanced up from his drawing to look at you. “Here. Let me see.”

You handed him your sad attempt at a flower crown with a frown. Wally didn’t hesitate to put it on his head and he gave you a small smile.

“How do I look?” he asked.

You suppressed a laugh at seeing the ridiculous mess of already-unwinding flowers sat atop him.

“The most.” You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Just as always.”

Wally smiled warmly at you, a bit lovestruck, and you couldn’t help but kiss him again, this time on his mouth.

Being a puppet, Wally didn’t exactly have lips to kiss, just felt. It also meant he didn’t understand the concept of kissing. He knew it was a declaration of love and, by now, he knew it was one of your favorite ways of giving affection. Still, he didn’t actually kiss back so much as press his face against yours as best as possible and make a ‘mwah’ sound when you leaned away. You considered it kissing, though, even if he did it wrong. He was just too adorable.

“You’re the one who's the most, darling,” he cooed.

You felt something ignite in your chest when he called you that. ‘Darling’ being his surname made it all the more flustering.

“But you’re so beautiful,” you insisted. You moved to cradle his face with your hands and he instantly stilled. “Here…” You kissed his forehead. “…here…” You kissed the space between his eyes where a nose would be. “…and here…!” You quickly pressed another kiss to his mouth.

“Mwah!” Wally said enthusiastically when you pulled back.

You giggled and scooted closer beside him. He rested against your side, leaning his head against your arm.

"What're you drawing there?" you hummed after another minute or two.

Wally held up his sketchpad proudly. He was only working with a few crayons and there was nothing but scribbles on the page, yet you were able to recognize your likeness pretty well between the lines. 

"You!" he replied with a sappy smile. "It's my favorite thing to draw, after all!"

You immediately threw him into a hug. Wally was much more accustomed to hugs thanks to his fellow neighbors but still went limp in them. It was like embracing a warm ragdoll, and you'd think Wally didn't like it from his lack of reciprocation if it weren't for the happy hum he made when his face was pressed against your shoulder. 

"Wally, you're so talented," you told him as you leaned away. "I'm so lucky."

Wally beamed back at you before continuing to color, content. You let him draw, relaxing in the relative silence between you, mind still whirring. As peaceful as the moment was, you couldn't help feeling dismayed. 

Wally did too much for you. He was always making art for you, his greatest muse, and he learned your ways of physical affection for you, even if he still didn't understand it all too well. There had to be something you could do for him in return before you felt like a totally inadequate partner to him. You racked your brain as you sat there, quiet, listening only to the sound of Wally's crayons moving against paper. That gave you an idea and you bit back a cheery smile as you made sure to store it away in your thoughts for later.

A few days later, you found yourself in the living room of Home, putting the finishing touches on your masterpiece. Well, okay, 'masterpiece' was a bit of an overstatement. In front of you, sitting atop a pile of old newspapers was a lump of clay very generously deemed a ceramic sculpture of an apple. There were too many bumps in the wrong places and the stem was leaning too far in one direction, making it askew, but it was still an apple!

At least, this is what you told yourself as you leaned back to examine your work. You put a finger to your mouth thoughtfully.

"I don't know..." you talked out loud to yourself. Then, remembering who you were with, asked, "What do you think, Home?"

Home made a sound that sounded like a door squeaking. You were pretty sure that was a good thing.

But, before you could mull over it any longer, you heard the front door open. You shot up from your spot on the couch, taking the ceramic in your hands and hiding it behind your back. A moment later, Wally walked in, a slight smile on his face that grew bigger upon seeing you.

"Hi, love!" you greeted, trying to seem as not suspicious as possible. "How was hanging out with Julie and Frank?"

"Fun." Wally nodded. "We chased a lot of butterflies. Frank got mad when I asked if I could keep them."

"Aw, I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Wally shrugged. "Friends shouldn't be caged in anyway. They should be flying free."

You smiled at the sentiment and leaned in to kiss his cheek, only to stop when he spoke again.

"What do you have behind you?" he asked, genuinely curious. 

You leaned back suddenly with a nervous smile. "Huh? Oh, nothing!"

"Can I see it?"

You rolled the ceramic in your hand, feeling every lump and crevice with a frown. Yet, you looked into Wally's big, black eyes, soft and caring as they stared back at you intently, and couldn't help but give in.

"Okay. Fine..." you sighed as you pulled the apple out from behind you. "It's, um, a thing I made for you."

You held it out to him so he could see it, bracing yourself for his reaction. 

Wally's eyes widened and his mouth parted with a small gasp. "An apple?"

"Yeah! It's made out of clay," you explained. You watched as he studied it before carefully taking it into his own hands. "You know, I figured since you like staring at your apples but they eventually all go bad... I'd make you one that never goes bad!"

Wally was quiet for a moment and his whole face brightened. "It's perfect!"

He walked over to the mantel and placed the ceramic there gently as you continued.

"Really?" Your smile twitched. "I know art is kind of your thing, I'm not as good at it but I just thought I'd do something for you since you do so much for me and-"

Wally smiled before pressing his mouth against the side of your face, effectively cutting off your rambling. You relaxed when he made a 'mwah!' sound as he leaned away. 

"I love it," he reassured you, voice soft. 

"Oh." You let out a sigh of relief. "Good."

"But why would you think you have to make something for me, silly?" Wally tilted his head. 

You looked down, suddenly feeling sheepish. Wally gingerly took one of your hands with his, giving you an encouraging nod. In return, you gave him a warm smile.

"I don't want you to think I'm inadequate," you replied with a shrug. "Because you're so talented and nice to me and all these other things and you deserve the best!"

Wally chuckled. You couldn't help but smile more at the sound of it, slow and monotone. You loved his laugh.

"You are the best," he told you, rubbing your hand with his thumb. "You're the most, darling. Your love is more than enough."

You felt a bundle of emotions begin to take over you, all so overwhelmingly happy you could hardly even fathom it. Gratitude, comfort, and pure love rushed through you as you continued to stare adoringly into those beautiful eyes. You wanted to jump for joy, hold Wally close to you and never, ever let go, and see to it that you made every day of the rest of his life perfect and full of love. Maybe then he would be able to feel a fraction of the amount of adoration you had for him and understand just how much he meant to you. 

Instead, you frowned playfully. "See what I mean?! You're too kind! It's not fair!"

Wally just laughed again. 

[sirowsky-stories]

The Old Prince

Part 12

Author's Note: For once it didn't take me two weeks to finish a new chapter! Wohoo!!

Description: Things take a steep turn for the worse after you find out what's happened to Oberyn.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, AU fic, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses. Angst. Descriptions of assault and injuries. And Simon's starting to become a warning of his own at this point. I really hate him. Word Count: 6240 Author's Masterlist

   Your use of the light is probably what draws out the spirits, because you’ve just managed to create a perimeter of glowing soil around you when they appear, coming at you from all angles to try and trap you.    Somehow, they feel even bigger now, and maybe they are, having had another day to feed on the darkness since you last saw them.

   The glow left behind by your light-ray makes the ground impervious to the rootlike creatures from below, but while it does seem to damage their feet, or whatever part they use to transport themselves, the spirits walk over it all the same.    Ursa’s the closest so you try firing a beam at her. It hits her right in the chest and makes a lot of damage, but the moment the beam fades, the darkness heals back up. For a moment you can see the faint shine of the trapped spirit inside, through the torn exterior, but it’s gone again just as quickly.

   Still, it proves you were right. They can be saved, if you can just figure out how to maintain the beam for long enough.    Equus advances when Ursa is slowed by the damage, so you refocus on her and using both hands, throw a double beam at her which you try to maintain for as long as you can.    It takes no more than three seconds before you lose it, and while you do cause a lot of grief for the evil mass which clings to her form, you’re nowhere close to freeing her from it.

   The light comes out so concentrated that it burns you as well, every time you use it. So long as the bursts are short, you heal up fine, but as soon as you try and hold it for more than a second, it feels like the blood in your arms boil.    After three seconds your hands are so badly burned they’re charred, and you can’t move your fingers. And of course, that’s when all nine of them have closed ranks around you.

   Surrounded, you suddenly remember what Oberyn had told you about how you’d saved yourself from the spirits after they’d tried to chop you up into fish-food and dropped you in the ocean. That light hadn’t come from your hands and hadn’t seemed to damage you at all.    Doing your best not to panic at the rapidly approaching threat, you close your eyes and try to concentrate all your power towards your heart.

   It would be nearly impossible to describe exactly how you do that, though. The power isn’t like a typical weapon, where you press a button or pull a trigger to activate it. Kinda like Peter Pan and his ability to fly, it comes from happy thoughts and heartwarming memories. And while the light might appear to have the same properties as a weapon, what it actually does is contaminate the things it touches with that happiness. Which is why it doesn’t hurt anyone who isn’t infected by darkness.

   Although, that does beg the question… Why does it hurt you?

   There isn’t time to reflect on it right now, you need to keep your thoughts on the positives. And it works. The light gathers in your chest into such a massive energy that you struggle to contain it while building it further. You want to strike as big a blow as you can against the entire group of spirits, hopefully hitting them all hard enough that the light will overcome the darkness in one fell swoop.

   You can feel them closing in, and you’ve reached the limit of what you can hold back, so you open your eyes and unleash the power.    It’s so immense that from a distance, it must look like half an orb of pure white light engulfs you and everything around you, lighting up the entire eastern coast of the States for a few moments. Too bright for you to see anything at first.

   But when it fades, you can see that the spirits are almost freed. Their smaller original forms have been brought back as the blackened and evil versions of them have been partially blown away, and you smile widely through the fatigue which rapidly spreads through you.    The light continues to eat away at them, freeing more and more of their bodies, so you drop to your knees and wait, ready to defend them should something attempt to stop the transformation.

   Equus is closest to you, and when just one of her hindlegs remains trapped within the crumbling remnants of the creature, she regains her sense of self and starts snorting and stomping, itching to be free. But out of nowhere, something hits her. Hard enough that she’s hurled a hundred yards away from the group, hitting the ground hard outside of the area which has been purged by light.    The darkness immediately swallows her again, reclaiming her to Simon’s army, and before you’ve had a chance to react, there’s another swoop beside you, and another five spirits are knocked out of the safe zone.

   This time, you do catch a glimpse of what hit them. Something massive and much larger than anything your enemy has thus far thrown at you.    You trace the movement back to its source… and then all light and hope leaves your heart in a single shuddering breath.

   “Oberyn…” you whisper, unwilling to believe it could be him, but there’s no mistaking it.

   The size and overall shape alone is proof enough. He looks nothing like Tyrannus anymore, corrupted by the Darkling’s influence until his entire body has become unrecognizable. Covered not just in the same oily substance as the rest of his army, but fundamentally altered. His wings scarcely look capable of lifting him into the air anymore, turned fleshy and then torn to pieces, while his snakelike body has been reduced to little more than bones covered in what looks like strips of meat dipped in tar.    He has no eyes anymore. Just two black holes in a skull that seems filled with oozing slime. And when he uses his flame, he sets himself on fire as well.

   “No… no, please… not you,” you plead, staring in disbelief at your one ally in this war.

   Your reason for fighting in the first place.    Your everything.

   “I can’t do this alone…”

   Somewhere deep down, you know you have the entire world on your side, but right now, all you can see is that the man you love is gone, and it robs you of everything.    The spirits are once again returned to their full evil forms, and you don’t have nearly enough strength to try and free them again.    You sit there on the ground, waiting for the Earth to swallow you. For something to kill or change you. Because you don’t want to fight now. You can’t fight Oberyn.

   “I tried to tell you, sweetheart,” Simon’s smug voice reaches you from your left. “You’re not gonna beat me. Light isn’t enough to chase away darkness, your precious Oberyn is proof of that.”

   You can’t even muster the strength to answer him. Not even the disgusting tone of his voice is enough to irk you anymore.

   “And what about you? The great Day, queen of all the spirits. Your heart is no more impervious to my influence than anyone else’s.    Look at you… giving up the moment things didn’t go as planned. Some fucking champion you are!” he ends on a laugh, and then tears his leg free from the wormlike tendrils which connects him to the ground, so that he can kick you in the face.

   He hits you so hard that several bones in your head break while you’re hurled several feet sideways before you hit the ground. Your nose is all but crushed, spraying blood both out onto your face and backwards down your throat, leaving you coughing and spitting blood as you lay there on the ground, unable to find a single reason to stand up and at least protect yourself.    All you want in that moment is just for him to kill you.

   Another kick lands in your gut, and the sudden deflation of your lungs sends a red cloud into the air in front of you, as the blood in your throat and mouth is forcefully expelled, along with what seems to be some pebbles.    It takes you a couple of beats to realize that you’re missing a few molars.    Then he stomps on the side of your ribcage which is facing up towards the sky, and somehow, the pain inside your body triples.

   “Oh, sweet little Boo. Where’s your never-ending optimism now? Where is that annoying superiority you were always so ready to flaunt?    Are you really this pathetic? Really? You’re not even gonna put up a fight?”

   Clearly, he’s doing everything he can to try and rile you up, just so he can keep pounding you down and prove how superior he’s become. He wouldn’t be toying with you like this unless he’s fucking dying for you to admit he’s smarter and better than you. It’s not enough for him to beat you physically, his twisted ego needs to hear you say it.    But that’s not a privilege you would give him even if you could speak.

   You’re on your side, curled into a little ball to protect your broken ribs and probably massive internal bleeding at this point, when he walks around to your back and prepares for another kick.    But when he steps out of your view, something peculiar becomes visible behind where he just stood.

   There’s a strange light gliding over the undead vegetation. Not pure and white like your light, but misty and mysterious.    It slips effortlessly through the air, seemingly unaffected by gravity, and when it dives into the slithering vines and worm-grass, it cuts right through them like a blade, burning their detached limbs into dust.

   Realizing your vision’s blurred by spatters of blood, you blink a few times, and when the tears have cleaned your eyes, you can see that it’s Caelum.    Oberyn must not have managed to throw her out of the safe zone in time, allowing your light-bomb to have full effect on her.    And seeing her glowing wings, her sharp gaze and clear intent, sparks a small ember inside you.

   Not enough to get you back on your feet, but just enough to raise a barrier around yourself. Just enough that Simon’s next kick never reaches you. Because for all his talk about how light can’t defeat the dark, even this frail little defense is beyond his power to penetrate.    The owl is coming right at you, so you muster the strength to get to your knees and raise your hands into the air, just in time for her powerful claws to grab them midflight.

   She takes you high above the battle, aiming for the clearer atmosphere above the ash clouds, and you can see how the dragon reacts and tries to pursue.    But his body isn’t as nimble or agile as it was when he was alive, and by the time his broken wings have arduously taken him off the ground, you’re already passing through the cloud, reaching the cleansing brightness of the sun just seconds later.

   It takes you out of the worst of your despair, helping you to understand that even the landscape itself which Simon has created fosters and nurtures anything negative it finds, whether out in the world, or inside a single person’s mind.    Once back in the fresh, clear air with the sun on your face, you’re able to see what really happened back there. How Oberyn’s fears about you must’ve left him vulnerable to this evil’s influence, and that it had nothing to do with him not believing in you or not having the strength to fight the darkness beside you.

   You’d felt so alone in those few minutes. As though not just your lover had been lost, but as if the entire world had turned against you.    It’s a relief to once again know in your heart how wrong you’d been to think that, and to feel how the light you’ve poured into the population is still there, even stronger now as it’s had more time to spread.

   The Atlantic coast is closer to Simon’s castle than the Pacific, so Caelum heads due east. Her claws are deeply embedded into your hands to ensure she won’t drop you, and while it is painful, you’re easily able to ignore it since the rest of you isn’t doing much better.    She flies as fast as Oberyn did in his smaller green alter ago, so it doesn’t take her long to reach the Portuguese Acores islands, less than a thousand miles from the European coast.

   She sets down on the closest one, perhaps aware that her handling of you isn’t ideal, and you’re a bit surprised at how carefully she lowers you to the ground before prying her claws out of your wrists and palms. None of the spirits have ever shown you any kindness before, and while you’re no longer the threat they used to believe you to be, they’re still supposed to be neutral towards all living things other than Darklings.

   If you could talk, you would’ve thanked her, but your jaw is broken. And so is your cheekbone, eye-socket and nose. You’re pretty sure there’s at least one fracture in your skull as well.    As soon as you’re down, you slump into a pile on the volcanic soil. Before yesterday, you’d barely even heard of these islands. But your journey of enlightenment passed here as well, so you now know that this is Ilha Do Faial and that the outcrop you’re currently sitting on is actually the westernmost point of Portugal.    Not that it matters much, you’re just a bit fascinated to remember it.

   Caelum lands right beside you and folds her wings away against the strong winds, then she just stands there, staring out over the sea as if waiting for the dark cloud to come looming over her once more.    It will, given enough time. Especially if Simon orders the dragon to fly over the oceans and attempt to help the darkness spread faster. Although, you’re not certain that he could do that without his master present.

   You’ve gotten the impression from all this that it’s only the Darkling himself who can birth and spread his evil into new territory, no matter how many minions he might have. The army helps to feed the cloud by consuming and infecting living things, but it probably can’t go into the light at all. The most important function of the cloud must be to shield the creatures of the dark from the burning rays of the sun.    Which would mean that if you could get the dragon to chase you into the clouds and then disorient him, you should be able to get him high enough to be cleansed by the natural light.

   A longshot perhaps, considering that the creatures you and Oberyn had chased in Detroit had seemed to do just fine with the winter sun, but the thought still gives you hope. Which you’re in dire need of at the moment.    After all, those monsters had existed separate from the true evil.

   Either way, what you need now is to heal. Opening your jacket and lifting your shirt reveals a completely purple abdomen, and there’s a very uncomfortable crunching sound coming from your ribcage at every breath. Maybe not a collapsed lung, based on your breathing, but definitely at least three shattered ribs.    You can see a tower on the other side of a second rise behind this one, and you wonder if you might be able to walk there, so you try standing up.

   You have almost no stability in your frame, which means the wind damned near knocks you over as soon as you get to your feet, but you do manage to stand.    It’s slow progress with your entire left side mostly malfunctioning and having to focus so much on balancing in the rising and falling terrain, you end up worsening your pains by making rapid corrections with damaged muscles to prevent falling. But you won’t heal fast enough without food, so you soldier on, even though each step seems to take several minutes.

   The owl keeps scanning the horizon to the west, but she follows you on foot, waiting until you’ve covered a few meters before she walks or hops to your side, and then waits again.    When you’re finally outside the building, which turns out to be a lighthouse, your efforts seem in vain at first, since the building is just a remnant, not a functioning lighthouse. But on closer inspection, there seems to be an underground structure nearby which might connect to it.

   You’re lucky enough that a person is leaving that structure just as your strength fails and you lose your balance and fall to the ground. He’s likely a tourist, going by the very German accent you hear from him as he shouts for help, but he comes to your aid without hesitation.    Within moments, there are people all around you, shouting in several different languages, someone seeming to want to carry you inside while someone else insists on you remaining still. So, to settle their argument, you gather your remaining energy and clamber to your feet, swiftly aided by two gentlemen, supporting each of your sides.

   The strain on your body has left you barely conscious, but you do your best to walk however far it is they’re taking you, and before long the sunlight is replaced by lamps and the sound changes. Stone walls, you’re guessing.    It surprises you to see Caelum having followed you inside, as you would’ve expected her to stay outside and keep an eye on the advancing darkness. But it seems, for now, she finds your condition more urgent.    No one else here can see her, so she risks nothing by accompanying you.

   Then finally, someone decides to find out what language you speak, starting by asking if you know Portuguese, then French, for some inexplicable reason since you haven’t heard any French accents, until they eventually arrive at English. But you still can’t speak, so your barely coherent response consists of nodding, which unfortunately hurts your entire head badly enough that you pass out.

   When you come to, you’re on the floor but you’re not cold. There’s something soft underneath you. Pillows of some sort, but not the kind one sleeps on, more like cushions from a deckchair or something.    You’re still incredibly tired, but your jaw has healed well enough for you to try and communicate, so you locate the closest person, a woman wearing a nametag. Andreia.

   “F-food…” you half-wheeze, half cough through the dried blood in your mouth and throat.

   You’d forgotten about the missing teeth, but the effect it has on your ability to form sounds quickly reminds you.    The woman is sitting cross-legged beside you, apparently keeping an eye on you, because she reacts immediately when she hears you.

   “Food? You want to eat?” she asks in a soft voice with just a hint of a Spanish or Portuguese accent, and you nod again, very carefully this time. “Are you certain you can? Your face is very badly damaged?” she observes, and she looks truly concerned as she lets her gaze roam over your broken features.

   “Need… protein,” you croak, to which she responds by nearly leaping to her feet and leaving your field of vision.

   You can’t see anyone else, but you can hear low voices further away, although you’re too worried about causing yourself another fainting episode to lift your head and find out if it’s someone who might be able to help you.    But then Andreia returns, and she’s got a tall glass with a straw in her hand.

   “How about a protein shake?”

   Perfect.    You carefully nod your agreement, and she helps to lift your head so you can drink without choking. It’s not exactly delicious, but you can tell it’s one of the better brands because it doesn’t taste of any artificial sweeteners. It’s strawberry flavored and the natural taste of the berries is actually there, although somewhat tainted by all the supplements.    It makes all the difference in your energy levels, though. You empty the glass without pausing and within minutes you start to feel a boost.

   “Do you have more?” you ask the woman, who bewilderedly nods and then gets up to go and prepare another one.

   While she’s gone, a different person with a nametag shows up, only this one looks a bit more authoritative.

   “Boa tarde, senhorita. My name is Miguel Marques and I run this Center. We are all very concerned about what has happened to you. Can you tell us who did this or where it happened?” the man asks in a thicker accent than the younger woman.

   But you can’t answer him. He would never believe or understand any of this. He’s likely just looking to find out if he should involve the police, which you’d rather avoid, and while you’re trying to think of a plausible explanation, he continues.

   “There is an air ambulance on its way here to pick you up and take you to the hospital in Horta-…”

   “Where am I?” you cut him off, partly because you’re genuinely curious about what this place is, and partly because you have no intention of going to any hospital.

   “On Ilha Do Faial,” he unhelpfully explains, and you’re too spent to waste energy on pointless conversation, so you try to indicate your meaning by looking around the room. “Ah, this place? It is Capelinhos Volcano Interpretation Center.”

   You’ve never heard of it, or anything like it, before. But you suppose that it does explain why the place looks so unique.    It’s not terribly useful information, though, which is why you’re relieved when Andreia returns with another protein shake right then. You weren’t all that interested in the place anyway, it was just a convenient distraction.

   Just as you start drinking through the straw, there’s a loud crack in your head as your jaw realigns and reattaches itself, but it must’ve been just as loud outside of your skull because both of your temporary caretakers jump at the sound.

   “Are you okay? What was that, did something break?” the young woman asks in a mild panic, just before there’s a series of smaller cracks indicating your nose has begun to reassemble itself.

   You pause your efforts with the drink as you suddenly feel the urge to move, managing to sit up despite quite a sharp complaint from your ribs. It’s probably the internal organs repairing themselves which prompted the need to shift positions. So, once you’re up and have found a somewhat comfortable position, you continue with the drink, using it to avoid having to answer any more questions for a minute.

   “Uh… Why don’t I get you some towels and warm water to clean up some of that blood,” Andreia suggests and then leaves again without waiting for a reply, clearly rattled by what’s going on with you.

   Mr. Marques is still standing in front of you, but he looks very nervous.

   “Relax. No one on your island is responsible for this,” you reassure him just as you begin to feel new molars being formed in place of the old ones, which is an odd but also satisfying sensation.

   You finish the shake thinking about how you’re probably the only human who can re-grow teeth, while the older man just stands there awkwardly, probably thinking about how odd it is that you seem to be getting much stronger suddenly.    Andreia returns a couple of minutes later with a bright red bucket filled with water, and six small towels, unfortunately crisp white.

   Having something to busy her hands with seems to calm her, so you let her wash your blood-soaked hands and face until she abruptly stops and just stares at you.

   “How…” she starts, but then needs a moment to find the rest of the words. “It’s all gone. All the cuts and bruises… the swelling…”

   Well, there’s no way to convincingly lie your way out of this, so instead, you lift your shirt again, and see them both gasp at the sight of unbruised skin, right before there’s another loud crack followed by several strangely popping noises, as your ribs are pieced back together.    It’s not painful for you, in fact, each time the bones pop back into place or are melded again, some of your existing pain lessens. But the sound is jarring.

   “I guess I could sit here and try to convince you this isn’t what it looks like, but that would quite frankly be incredibly rude to your respective intelligences,” you say, because you’re just too exhausted to think of anything more elaborate than the truth. “I got hurt trying to stop the worst fucking evil you’ve ever imagined which is spreading from the west, but fortunately for me, my superpower is being able to heal myself.    And spread hope to all living things. Not that I’m feeling all that hopeful myself today.”

   It’s your turn to flinch, however, when Mr. Marques suddenly gasps loudly, and then excitedly starts to gesticulate while rambling in Portuguese for a while before he remembers you can’t understand a word of it.

   “Senhorita! It’s you! I saw you in the garden behind the regional offices in Horta yesterday!” he animatedly explains, recognizing you now that all the blood and visible damage has been removed. “I saw the-…” he starts, but then suddenly halts himself and his tone shifts, becoming quiet and serious before he adds: “I saw the dragon.”

   “Yeah, he’s kinda hard to miss,” you sigh, turning your gaze down to your own hands to avoid having to meet their eyes as you recall the feeling of Oberyn’s human hands touching you last night.

   Was it really just last night he’d been making love to you in that hotel room? It feels like a lifetime has passed.

   “You wouldn’t recognize him now, though. The evil got to him, just like it’s gonna get to all of you if I can’t stop it.”

   You’re not sure why you tell them that, except you feel like you need to say it. As if it’s the only way you’ll ever really believe it yourself.

   “I wasn’t there, in the garden,” Andreia says then, and while you can’t see her face since your head is still downcast, you can hear something familiar in her voice. “But I felt the same thing those people did when my mother came home and spoke to me about it.    I felt how my worries just stopped having any power over me. And if you did that… if you can do that for so many people, then I can’t imagine any evil could defeat you.”

   Wonder. That’s what you hear in her. The same wonder as you see in children before they’ve learned how hard the world is. The wonder of innocence.    Because that’s what all these people are. Against the malicious darkness, everyone is innocent.    You look up at her just as the same German from before shouts something and several people start running towards the exits.

   “What’s going on?” Andreia asks, looking to her boss, who seems just as confused.

   But you know without understanding the languages shouted around you. You can feel the change in the air, the heaviness of the oncoming storm.

   “The Darkling is coming,” you tell them, and see a shiver pass through them both at Simon’s real name, as if their very souls know how dangerous such a creature is.

   Rising to your feet, you find your body feeling strong once more, and see Caelum perched on the backrest of a lounge chair, spreading her wings and flapping them a few times in preparation, knowing the next battle is looming.

   “Whatever happens,” you say, turning back to the people who have cared for you, “don’t let your lights be taken. Don’t let despair steal your hope. I’ll need your strength to carry me against the tide and the wind.”

   With that, you too start heading for the nearest exit, emerging from the underground structure via a concrete ramp. In front of you is the massive volcano and behind it, the rapidly darkening evening sky as the sun has begun to set. But when you reach the end of the ramp and turn around towards the open ocean, it isn’t a sunset which meets your eyes.    Instead, something similar to, but infinitely more sinister and destructive than a hurricane, fills the entire horizon from north to south with shades of grey, brown and black. There’s a sense of foreboding about it, where it hangs overhead, too close and moving too fast.

   Lightning cuts through it but doesn’t manage to illuminate it, and you can’t help but think it’s Oberyn who’s flying around in there, spewing his flame into the atmosphere trying to relieve frustration.    You wonder if he remembers you now. If his fear keeps you alive somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind.

   Something flutters behind you, up against your head, and you look up to find Caelum positioning herself with one foot on each of your shoulders, but she doesn’t lift you. Her claws sit lightly on top of your jacket, as if she’s just using you as a perch.    If she is, you don’t mind. She doesn’t weigh much of anything even though she’s got her wings folded down. But the longer she sits there, watching the approaching cloud with you, the more you begin to feel like there’s a voice inside your head.

   Not like what the dragon could do, it’s much more subtle than that, and more of a melody than an actual voice, but it’s definitely trying to tell you something.    It feels a bit like Obi-Wan telling Luke to use the force, which you dismiss without much thought because it must be some rogue interpretation error made up by your brain.    Until you realize that this is exactly what she’s saying. Whether using pop-culture to help you understand her, or if that really is just how your brain interprets the odd melody, but she is telling you to use the force.

   Which must be a reference to the power of hope you’ve put into the world, but you’re still not sure what she means, or how you’re even supposed to wield it. You spread the light as a defensive mechanism to keep the dark contained to the American continent, and give the world a chance to protect itself, but you never thought you’d be able to use that same power yourself.

   Now though, having learned of the possibility, you suddenly become aware of just how much of yourself exists within all other living things through that energy.    You’re connected to all of it, from the smallest insect to the largest whale and the tallest mountains to the deepest trenches. You can feel the accumulated strength of all their light, but you still have no clue how to turn it into a weapon.

   “What do I do?” you ask the owl, feeling tears form in the corners of your eyes from the soot and ash which is already reaching you on the wind. “It’s just you and me, Caelum. How do we stop all that?”

   “Who are you talking to?” Andreia asks from your right.

   You hadn’t noticed her coming to stand beside you, so her voice surprises you. She sounds… calm. As if the cloud of death almost hanging over her island is of no consequence.

   “There’s an owl sitting on my shoulders,” you say with a small smile, certain she won’t believe you.

   But she looks up into the air above you and you’d swear you can see her trace the contours of something large up there.

   “Assombroso…” she breathes, surprising you again.

   “You can see her?”

   “No, not exactly. I just… know she’s there… somehow. Like I can almost see how she distorts the atmosphere around her.”

   “Huh. Then the barriers between worlds must be really thin right now. You shouldn’t be aware of these beings at all, no matter what’s going on.”

   “Beings? There are more of these invisible owls?” she asks, and there is that wonder in her voice once more.

   Strangely, hearing it makes you happy, despite everything.

   “Not owls, but there are more of them. And they’re all trapped in there,” you say, nodding towards the impending darkness. “If I can’t save them, we’ll all die.”

   “Oh. How are you gonna do that?”

   You’re about to answer you don’t know yet, but just as you open your mouth to say it, there’s a literal click inside your head which distracts you.    At first you think it’s just another fracture healing, but then the wind shifts direction, heading due west towards the enemy, and you know Caelum’s doing it on purpose. Just like you somehow know that it’s because she senses a shift in you, which apparently means it’s time to go to war.

   And then it hits you.

   The Darkling’s power comes from the fact that all living things have darkness in them, while Day’s power comes from the fact that all living things also have light in them. But where his strength is limited by his need to physically infect the living, yours isn’t limited by anything.    You can exist everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. All at once. Because light can travel through almost everything.

   “I’m gonna create my own army,” you answer Andreia, with a huge smile on your lips, before turning to her to test your theory.

   Like flipping a switch, you let the part of you that’s inside of her blossom, and within a single second, her entire body starts to shine like a star in the sky.    She’s still aware of herself, you haven’t taken over her mind or her ability to control her own actions, but your light is a shield, and it was put inside her for the purpose of protecting, so that’s what she now feels compelled to do.

   Reaching out across the island, you find everything your hope has touched, and one by one, the population begins lighting up the evening from the ground, and the animals and vegetation soon follow.    Within minutes, the whole island is glowing. An oasis in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The first line of defense against the thundering cloud in the distance.

   Everyone turns to face the darkness without your asking or commanding them to. They all know the stakes and they all choose to fight; all you’ve done is given them a choice.    Simon’s cruelty would have consumed them, leaving no one with any choice, but because you’ve inoculated them against him, unless they decide to surrender to him, these souls will remain free until they die.    That’s their superpower. And a mighty one it is.

   It’ll be less than half an hour before the cloud reaches you, at which point, you will face the first real test of your character. And this time, you’re not gonna sit on the ground and let your enemy beat you half to death.    This time, you’re gonna teach the darkness to fear this world and the ferociousness of an army shielded by Lux herself.

   “Remember,” you tell Andreia, who’s still standing right beside you, “the evil which that cloud protects is gonna do everything it can to make you think of everything bad that’s ever happened to you. It’s gonna try to magnify every fear and insecurity within you since that’s how it’ll reach past your defenses and corrupt you.    So, no matter what it whispers to you, cling to the love and happiness you have in your life, however big or small it might be. Because those things are all you need to keep that evil out.”

   She listens intently, and then a flash of memory from her mind passes to you through the connection of your light, and in the memory, you see a face you recognize.    You’ve seen so many new faces over the past couple of days that it takes you a moment to place this one. It looks very different in the memory compared to when you met her, but there’s no doubt.

   “Daniela is your sister…” you say to Andreia, who turns her head sharply to stare incredulously at you.

   “You know her?”

   “No, but I met her today. In Antarctica.”

   “Really? Is she alright?” she asks, but still with a smile on her face and no hint of worry in her eyes.

   “She’s doing wonderful. I helped her to let go of your mother,” you add, testing to see if the mention of someone who was likely not a good influence on either sister’s life might put a crack in the shield.

   “Good. She never did manage to get past it, and she’s always refused help from everyone around her. I’m so happy to hear she’s still alive.”

   No cracks. Not even a dent. The light shines just as strongly even as she tackles this difficult subject.

   “She’s fighting with you today,” you remind Andreia, while also reminding yourself of just how vast your army is. “Everyone is fighting for each other today.”

Part 13

The Ten Spirits of the World Air - Forest - Water - Stone - Night - Autumn - Winter - Spring - Summer.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you wish to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.

@harriedandharassed @kittenlittle24 @joelswritingmistress @pedrostories

[lunexrin]

Strings and Soccer.

Michael Kaiser (Thread of Fate AU.)

| I just wanted to quickly throw this in here that I have absolutely no idea what I am doing and this is just a piece of my mind as the clock almost strikes 1 in the morning. This has little to no proof-read at all, and this is my first time writing on here so I do apologize for the mistakes I made below. Thank you and enjoy. |

It's a terrifying sight to say the least; the look of determination this man has in his eyes. You knew he was always serious in what he does, and his obsession with soccer was something that you always admired. That crazed look in his eyes whenever he kicks the ball ever so freely to reach the opponent's goal, the determined look in his eyes-- that is how he looked before you now, but it seems even stronger.

He wasn't about to take no for an answer, and you knew that more than anyone. Michael Kaiser simply does not beg, it doesn't exist in his 101 egoistical guide that he lives his life according to-- but for you? He will. He will 'beg' for you to stay, in his own way of course.

The deadly grip that he has around your wrist, his touch almost burns, and it pains you, but it was undeniably soft for the Michael Kaiser. That's how he always was to you; soft. Well the more accurate way to say it is; merciful. He pulled you closer by your wrist, making you stumble forward, your chests almost making contact before you stumbled back.

"Stay."

The audacity. Wasn't he the one who had cut you off like you meant nothing to him? Wasn't he the one who rejected your calls, blocked you everywhere, because you were a 'distraction' ? Not to mention the nerve that he had to say such a thing in the most pitiful voice he would ever use while he lived on this earth, but it was only for you, that is.

And how dare the string show itself again-- you thought he had already cut it, but the string is so darn stubborn.

.

.

.

[12 years ago.]

You and Michael were considered lucky to be tied by the sacred string, on one lonely day at the children's playground, many, many years ago. You had always struggled to make friends, while he-- well, he didn't need any. He thinks these other gremlins were just too much of a hassle and a waste of space.

You watched the other kids play, some sort of longing bloomed in your pure soul as you watched the other kids your age play tags with their other friends. It has always been this way. You were just too shy, and no one really wanted to approach you. But it doesn't necessarily upset you; you don't mind being the only company for yourself. After all, you'll end up alone after your lifespan ends, won't you? You had quite an interesting mind, for a child.

The rain suddenly fell, and you looked up to the grey skies and watched as the faint light of the rumbling thunder peeked through the ethereal clouds. You let the rain fall onto you for a little, before making your way under the metal fort of the playground, almost as if you didn't want to. You wanted to play under the rain, but you knew better than to get yourself soaked while waiting for your parents to pick you up just to get scolded afterwards.

You brought your knees to your chest and started drawing patterns on the wet sand of the ground. You could hear the annoying sneezes of the other kids already, but you paid no mind. Loud splashes coming from the footsteps of a boy with a ball in front of his moving legs in the distance went unnoticed by you at first, before at the corner of your eye, you saw a ball stopping right beside your feet, dirty and stained with mud. But that wasn't the only thing that caught your eye.

You saw the sacred crimson string glowing before your own eyes. Who does it belong to? You were so oblivious to it, and it took you a solid 10 seconds to figure out that your small pinky was tied to it. You couldn't believe it. The other end of that thin string was your.. soulmate?

You saw a pair of dirty sneakers stop right beside the ball, and you could see the figure just enough-- the fair soft skin that was soaked by the rain water, and the small fingers that somehow looked so delicate to you, and a pinky tied to the same, glowing thread of fate that lies on the ground.

The figure slowly bent down, revealing a boy maybe about your age, witnessing the most infuriatingly captivating blue eyes that have ever bore into your own gaze. His head ever so slightly tilted to the side, his gorgeous blonde hair with blue streaks were drenched by the rain, looking so majestic even under the pouring rain.

"Found you."

© 2023 lunexrin, do not copy, translate or repost on any other websites without proper credits.

[cheese-ducks]

TWRP ORIGINS

Chapter 5: Insanity Wears High Tops

Main master list

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(Warnings: light swearing)

"Greetings, human. In my band's ongoing campaign to end boredom the universe over, we seek to unite all children of the cosmos to join our cause, one planet at a time." The cone boy said. "This is what brings me to you. It shattered my perception of reality to learn recently that fifth dimensional beings, such as myself, cannot materialize on your planet."

"I'm sorry, fifth dimensional?" Jack interjected. 

"Again, human, you need not apologize for what happened. The fault is all mine." 

His confidence was a bit overwhelming, so Jack didn't correct him.

 "So I needed a stable host with a corporeal form, which in this case is you, to continue my work. Earth continues to amaze me, but I digress. Allow me to introduce myself and my intentions,"

A strange feeling of relief came over Jack. He wasn't going crazy, he was actually possessed. A whole new set of problems came with that knowledge, but he didn't need to think about the implications right now.

"I am Doctor Sung; intergalactic groove crusader; ageless meta-being of the cosmos; and frontman of the band TWRP. Aside from keytar and synthesexory manipulation, my role within the band lies in interdimensional diplomacy, communications, and female seduction, and as such I am the band's primary representative here on Earth." Jack nodded like he understood any of that.

"Despite our fairly recent crash land and the fact that we're basically stranded here, I'm certain that TWRP's dominance of Earth draws one step nearer. It is our intention to oust the forces that would hinder the advancement of fun and joy and replace them with tools of entertainment..." 

Sung went on and on, as if he liked hearing the sound of his own voice. This was unbelievable. It was like something out of a movie. Jack didn't really know how to feel about this revelation. What would he tell his family? Was this even real? It had to be, he saw the spaceship himself and the alien sightings started after that night. This was definitely real. He felt strangely flattered by Sung's explanation so far. Out of all the people in Halifax this interdimensional superhero could've picked, he chose Jack. His weirdness led him to this surreal situation, no normal person would have approached a burning spaceship in the middle of the woods. Maybe being weird was actually going to pay off.

"And of course, frenzied dance parties will continue to erupt in our wake, replacing human sadness with cosmic elation. But we can't do this alone. I need your help."

"Why me, specifically?" Jack was almost scared of knowing the answer. 

"The unlikelihood of finding a host that has such a striking resemblance to me cannot be denied. If we're going to complete our mission I would still need you as a vessel." Sung's voice had a rare twinge of shame. 

"I would be willing to discuss with you how you'd like to go about doing that. It's truly the least I could do after today." 

Jack heard the sound of pounding footsteps racing up the stairs and darting past his bedroom. 

"I would like to discuss a game plan for this, among other things, but can you wait until everyone falls asleep?"  

Sung could sense the stark shift in Jack's emotions. Before it was mostly confusion with some admiration sprinkled in, who could blame him, but his whispered plea was practically made of pure stress. An immense amount of fear for someone not in immediate danger. It perplexed him, but he honored the request. 

"I shall return when everyone is asleep, and until then I wish you fewer negative emotions." 

Before Jack could figure out if that was meant to be an insult or not there was a knock at his door. He immediately climbed into bed and pretended to sleep.

"You're being too loud! Your brother's not feeling well!" His mom shouted at the band of lightly buzzed children. She opened the door a crack and went back downstairs. 

"How about you sleep over at your friend's house tonight, Stan?"

.........................................................................

Jack sat on the couch eating a small plate of nachos. They somehow tasted better at two in the morning. He looked over at Sung, who was staring in bewilderment at the midnight snack. 

"Did you want some?" Jack held out a chip.

"I doubt I could eat in this form, plus I'm not even certain what that is." Sung didn't need to eat as frequently as his band mates, so he really only ate out of necessity. He couldn't fathom the idea that someone would eat out of boredom or for enjoyment. 

"Ok then, more for me." He patted the cushion next to him but Sung declined.

"I have so many questions, could we cover some of those before the game plan?" 

"First, I must ask you something." 

Jack set the nachos to the side nervously. Sung sensed that same fear and stress from earlier. Why was he doing that? It was probably a question for later considering his first question was overdue. 

"What is your name, human?" 

The tension instantaneously left his body as he answered. How was he doing that? 

"Oh, it's Jack." He was back to his original position on the couch, nachos in hand. 

"Simple, efficient, I like that name." His pleased nod being amplified by the pylon helmet. "You may proceed with your questions." 

Jack took a pause remembering all the crazy shit he'd been through. For the first time in a while his mind felt clear.

"What's with the cone hat?"

"A pylon can be worn for many reasons; fashion, power, dominance." He paced the living room floor, cape flowing behind him.

"It sounds like you're compensating for something." Jack snickered.

"Well, when you're as cool and tall and handsome and heroic and tall as I am you don't need to. May we move on?" 

"Sure, man." He stifled his laughter. Maybe that was the key to Sung's infinite confidence: straight up denial. 

"Why was I blacking out so often, and what are you doing to my memories?"

"I figured if I took control of the vessel while you were unconscious you wouldn't have noticed. I had no idea that I was causing you to go unconscious. Again, I deeply apologize." He stopped in front of Jack and crossed his arms. "And as for your memory I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Seriously?" Jack stood up, almost angry Sung was treating that so casually. "Random flashbacks, almost daily amnesia, forgetting how to do basic shit? I would randomly forget how to read! You've got no explanation for that?"

Sung paused as he processed this completely new information. "Do human memories not do that?"

'How clueless is this guy?' Jack thought to himself. 

"No they do not, and I would like it to stop."

"You have my word."

He sat back down, nearly choking on a chip from laugter. He needed to know if Joe was fucking with him.

"Were you fighting a lion and robot in the parking lot of a guitar center?" 

Sung's smile instantly changed to an annoyed frown. 

"Believe me when I tell you they deserved it." 

"And with that I think I'm ready to discuss the game plan." Jack answered quickly as he put down the nachos.

"I'm gonna preface this with I have no idea how this could work but the fact that I'm even going through with this is nuts! Is this as surreal for you as it is for me?" 

"Considering this is the first time I've ever taken a host and I'm completely fucking it up, I would say yes." Sung sat down next to Jack. "In case you couldn't tell I'm not used to fucking up. You can't exactly afford to when saving the universe. It's just not an option when the stakes are that high, so I don't." 

"You think you have to save the universe all by yourself?" 

"I'm used to handling things by myself." 

Jack couldn't tell if he was downplaying his emotions or it legitimately didn't bother him.

"I mean, I would say that's kinda sad if I didn't get it." There was a key difference, however. Jack kind of liked to be alone, he didn't think he had to be. "Maybe your voice was in the back of my mind before the crash." He joked. 

Sung jumped off the couch and pointed at him.

"My voice in the back of your mind, you may have something there, Jack."

[thisfan-thismonster]

Intro/Pinned

Jay || 23 || They/He || ♤♡ || ADHD + ASD

-> I'm Jay!! Trans masc non-binary guy!! Currently utterly obsessed with The Eltingville Club/Welcome to Eltingville and by extension Bill Dickey. I want to throw him at a wall (lovingly).

-> Sideblog!! My main is an art blog @jay-sketchin! I'll reblog any non self ship art I make of the club from there. My other self ship blogs are @coles-scythe and @draw-your-self-ship. I made a separate blog for Eltingville stuff bc of anxiety. Also autistic hyperifxation yippie 🤠 Everything that doesn't fit any of these blogs goes to my personal sideblog @stfu-im-thinking-abt-blorbo.

-> I have a lot of F/Os, but the only ones I'll be talking about here are the club (Bill is a romantic F/O, the rest are platonic.) However, if you're following from a self ship blog, then please dni if you also ship with T.ohru A.dachi from P.ersona 4 or J.in K.azama from T.ekken, I'm extremely uncomfortable sharing them. Bill doubles are perfectly okay though!!!

-> Idk how active I'll be!! Most of my posts here are gonna be Eltingville related and primarily be for my self ship AU + self insert OC Jay (what a creative name /j /lh)

-> DNI = Genral DNI criteria (bigots, TERFs, exclusionists, transmeds, zionists, etc.), pro//shippers or com//shippers or pro//fiction or whatever the fuck you call yourselves now, toxic anti//shippers, loli/shotacons, real people shippers, and doubles of the characters I mentioned above ^

The Self Insert OC

(Keeping it under a readmore bc I yap too much.)

Relationship chart template made by @//that0nefangi1rlinyourarea!! Idk who made the digital version of the model sheets tho :(

I'm making a separate post detailing his lore. Here's a quick basic rundown/synopsis for now. Stuff is subject to change as I figure out lore.

Jay is roughly 17/18 during the main comics and pilots, like the guys, and 26/27 during the epilogue. They're the youngest and shortest of the group.

Jay is also trans!! He uses exclusively he/him during the main comics and pilot, but switches to primarily they/them in the epilogue though they're still cool with he/him, too.

I headcanon that the guys created the club sometime in middle school when they were around 12/13. Jay joined shortly after the club's formation and was given the role of secretary of video games.

Like the others, his love of video games started out as genuine innocent enjoyment and a desire to have fun with his friends, but turned into an unhealthy obsession pushed into being a gatekeeping snob. The type to cry "fake fan" if you haven't put 300+ hours into each and every game within a series. By the epilogue, they've mellowed out significantly and has turned around to trying to make games and provide resources for up and coming developers like themself. Redemption Arc type stuff.

Bit of an artist during the comics, and can't take any criticism either. Will either blow up in anger or burst into tears, depends on if he's on his period lol. He gets severely burned on his right arm (his dominant hand) after Bill burns the comic shop down. He's still able to move and use his arm, but not with as wide of a range of motion as before. Best comparison I can make (until I draw it) is Dunban's arm in Xenoblade Chronicles, but they can still grab/grip things decently well. After becoming disabled, Jay leans more into 3D modeling and 3D art since drawing is much more exhausting/painful.

Bill and Jay develop crushes on each other shortly after meeting. They eventually figure out each other's crushes, but refuse to admit it due to pure nervousness. However, as they become more toxic people, it turns more into hostility and aggression. Constantly getting into arguments and fighting. They make each other worse </3

At some point between Bring Me The Head Of Boba Fett and Bread and Suck-Asses, they do try to start dating when Jay points out how their constant bickering is bringing down the club. They decide to just suck it up, admit to each other's faces they like each other, and start dating. Worst mistake of their lives tbh.

After The Intervention, things kind of get a little better for not only them, but between the entire friend group. Arguments are a little less intense, they don't get kicked out of Bill's house as often, and they actually start acting like friends again.

But all of that crumbles when Bill tries to get a job at Joe's comic shop. He starts spiralling and undoing all of his progress with mending his friendships and relationship, and ultimately still causes the events of This Fan... This Monster!. The fire destroys not only the shop but any chance of Jay and Bill remaining together.

And then even more stuff between This Fan... This Monster! and the epilogue + post canon stuff that I still gotta write aaaaaaaa

[blackjackkent]

OK. So, obviously that was a pretty upsetting experience for Hector, but it does finish up (as near as I can tell) everything we can do on the main floor of Moonrise Towers, so it's time to go upstairs and see what Z'rell wants to talk to us about.

This is a bit nervewracking because we overheard some of the Absolute guards talking about how Z'rell has been summoning a lot of True Souls up to her office lately, and none of them have come back down. So there's reason to believe this might be a dangerous prospect.

(Amusingly - mechanically, Hector still has a dislocated shoulder; from a story perspective I assumed Shadowheart probably healed it up already but I can't figure out how to make it go away in-game without a long rest so it's just kind of there for right now.)

Going upstairs, we find Z'rell setting guards around the door to the roof, where apparently General Thorm is doing some meditative shit or other.

"Excellent timing, True Soul."

She meets Hector's gaze with a casual smirk. There's an air of cool violence about her that is quite unsettling; even more than many of the cultists here, she seems as if she would be happy to lash out at him given half a chance.

"The goblins," she goes on eagerly. "Tell me how they suffered - or better yet, show me."

Narrator: Her mind enters yours abruptly, flickering across your memories in a blaze of excitement. She sees the goblins walking free, and a burning rage fans across your mind like wildfire.

Inwardly, Hector braces himself. He knew this was coming. The prisoners he released - he'll have to account for them somehow. He somehow didn't fully expect, though, quite the extent to which Z'rell's expression has hardened with pure fury at being denied the moment of sadism.

"Explain yourself!" she snaps.

Hector is very tired and really not in the mood to deal with someone who takes pleasure in others' pain to that degree - but the cover must be maintained. So with an effort of will, he remains perfectly still and resists the urge to fidget under her stare. [PERSUASION] "They won't get far," he says, affecting an air of casual disinterest. "Let the curse take them, and save us the job of cleaning up their innards."

A pause. The disciple sneers. "Very pragmatic. But very boring."

Hector starts to relax, seeing that his story has been accepted, but the ordeal is not yet over. "Let's see if there's *anything* interesting in that brain of yours."

Before Hector can fully register what she means, she is inside his mind.

Narrator: She parts the folds of your mind again, touching your wants and hopes. Tasting them. Every emotion soaks into her mind's palate, but there is purpose to her exploration - she is searching for proof of your faith.

Hector shudders at the feeling of her slipping through his thoughts. It's a tremendous violation that these people do so casually, but he cannot show his distaste without giving away the flimsy disguise that is all that keeps them safe here.

And proof of his faith...she will find plenty of proof there, but not the faith she wants. If she is allowed to explore too long, she will find his faith in Selune, as bright as the moonlight that still exists somewhere beyond this dark and awful place.

Focus. Show her only what you want her to see.

[MONK] Empty your mind. Show her a perfect, harmonious soul.

No sign of Selune within him. But not quite deception - no sign of the Absolute either. Balance. Serenity. Peace.

"When you are in harmony, you need fear nothing at all," one of the other monks told him once, early in his training. "For then your path will be unburdened by those who would see you unbalanced."

Narrator: You feel her grasp within your thoughts for familiar, roiling zealotry. It finds no purchase.

Z'rell blinks, drawing back; he feels her grip withdraw from within his mind and allows himself to tremble inwardly with relief. He feels dirty, marred by this contact, and wishes he could express the disgust that he feels.

"Simply...void," she murmurs, and she sounds legitimately perplexed, the sadistic glee for a moment gone in favor of simple confusion. "Why would you not embrace her? Worship her?"

A pause, and then she goes on, with renewed energy, "I have already been blessed to stand in Her presence. It was bliss." She stabs a finger towards his chest. "She gave me *everything* I wanted."

It's almost accusing, the way she looks at him. The calm and serenity that he showed her was not enough. She wants to see him caught in the web and does not understand the purpose of resistance.

"Everything?" Hector asks carefully. "What exactly do you want?" All the better to keep the conversation off of him and on her as much as possible - both for information and to avoid those questing fingers through his mind again.

Her eyes brighten with eager, hungry zealotry. "To take without asking, to feel without doubting, and to kill without consequence. In a word - freedom."

Hector swallows uncomfortably. He had expected at least a veneer of some more palatable assertion - unity or something like that. Not this unbridled cruelty without measure, completely unmasked.

"That's a little abstract," he says vaguely, trying to maintain his sense of calm with a little more effort now. "Show me something real."

Her eyes light as if she has never received a happier request.

"Oh, why not? What's the point in power if you don't get to have a little fun every now and again?" There is a brief moment in which Hector has time to realize that he made a grave mistake by phrasing his comment the way he did. Then she claps her hands together and a flash of light flickers between them.

"She gave me the power to cut the thread of life with a thought..." she murmurs, rapturous - and without warning, without even a sound, the ogre standing behind her throws her head back...and dies, blood spurting from every orifice of her face.

Hector stares down at the corpse, then back up at Z'rell wordlessly. He hopes his stunned silence will be taken for awe, rather than the fact that he is feeling suddenly sick to his stomach.

Thorm invulnerable. This woman killing with a snap of her fingers. How do we fight a force like this? How is it possible?

To his muted relief, Z'rell smiles.

"But I can caress as well as cut," she murmurs with a horrible sort of sweetness. "That's why you should stay on my good side." She reaches out, taps a clawed finger against his cheek. "And the best way to do that is to serve General Thorm. I have a mission for you."

All Hector wants to do is run from the room and never see this woman, or Thorm, or any of these people ever again. But that choice is not on the table. He focuses for a moment on Karlach's presence at his side, his other companions behind him. The dream guardian whispers in his mind, "That's it - play along. The closer you can get to the General, the closer you'll be to the answers you seek."

Calm. Find the center, two beats to the breath. He inhales slowly, lets it out heavily. "I live to serve," he says evenly. "What do I need to do?"

"There is a relic that General Thorm requires," Z'rell says briskly, all business now. "He sent his most trusted advisor, Disciple Balthazar, to retrieve it. The relic is beneath the Thorm family mausoleum. That is where you will find Balthazar. But we have lost contact with him - go there, aid Balthazar if you can, and bring the relic home."

Ah. He feels on slightly firmer ground now; they know of Balthazar already - and, in fact, already agreed to help him. "What exactly was this relic he was sent to retrieve?" Hector asks curiously, hoping to draw from her some of the answers he was not able to get from the necromancer.

"It is something that General Thorm desires, and that he ordered us to retrieve," she says curtly. "That is all you need know."

Narrator: [INSIGHT] She's suddenly nervous - on edge. Talking about the relic makes her anxious.

Hector hesitates - then presses. There will never be a better time than this to ask. [PERSUASION] "Talking of this relic makes you anxious," he says carefully. "Why is that?"

She too hesitates - and when she speaks again it is with more sincerity than he has seen from her thus far. "I am in awe of the power the relic must hold to be of such importance," she admits. "General Thorm will not leave Moonrise without it."

Hector senses a stir of unease through his companions. He shares it. What lies unsaid in Z'rell's words is that when the relic is found, Thorm will have no reason to stay at Moonrise. And the only possible reason for that...is that he will be ready to move on Baldur's Gate.

"I already met Balthazar," Hector says.

Her eyes flash. "Then he must have failed to make the urgency of his mission clear. I do not want to see you again until the relic is secure at Moonrise."

Well, thinks Hector, I don't want to see you again ever, so we're at least agreed on that.