#i felt haunted by my own memories | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daisymbin · 13 days ago

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for lovers who hesitate - choi seungcheol

warnings: cheating ex, mentions of pregnancy (not reader), shotgun marriage (not reader), some curse words, mentions of blood (seungcheol in a fight), some angst (mostly on seungcheol's part, some of reader's towards the end) + this is a long fic so I'm sure I missed out stuff, my apologies. please let me know what I missed out so I can add them in!

pairings: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: fake dating, resurface of old feelings (reader) & a down bad choi seungcheol

wc: 13k (not sure what happened i was aiming 3500-5000 but oh well.)

a/n: 13k words...my longest fic on here yet..... this took quite awhile, even proofreading was a challenge, so I hope you guys enjoyed this one! but fr, I early respect and admire authors who always belt out 30k word fics, it's really not easy i don't even wanna think about it. it's one thing to get a long fic done and another to proofreading it all oof. ... and no writer really only proofreads it once

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

“you've got mail~” seokmin sings down the hallway of your shared apartment, “it looks like a wedding invite…” his voice trails off, “are any of our friends getting married? why didn't I receive one?”

seokmin's question was reasonable, you did both have the same friend group, you grew up together, having tons and tons of mutual friends, you went almost everywhere together. he's like the brother you never had. but now he's got your interest piqued as well. who could it be?

on your hand sits a wedding invitation, beautifully adorned with gold accents, pink flowers litter the edges of the invite, a bright pop of colour in contrast to the plain white.

seokmin snatches the invite out of your hand, opening the invite as he reads, “you are cordially invited to celebrate the joy of han- what the fuck? is this a joke?” seokmin shuts the invite close and crumples it, “what the hell does that guy want?”

“han minjun?” you asked as curiosity plagues your mind. seokmin’s reaction only amplifies your own confusion, and you reach out to grab the crumpled invitation from his hands, smoothing it out with trembling fingers. his name stares back at you, a name you had once thought you’d never have to see or hear again. but here it is, boldly printed, like a ghost from the past come to haunt you.

“han minjun…” you murmur, your voice quieter now, filled with a mixture of disbelief and absurdity. the memories come rushing back like a tidal wave, each one hitting you harder than the last. you remember the good days first, the laughter, the late-night talks, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. but those sweet memories are soon overshadowed by the darker ones, the ones you had worked so hard to forget.

you remember the way he’d become distant, how the warmth in his eyes had faded, and the excuses he’d given whenever you asked what was wrong. you remember the pit in your stomach when he’d cancel plans at the last minute, claiming he was swamped with work, even though you could hear the laughter of friends in the background whenever he called.

then there was that one night, the night everything shattered. you had gone to his apartment, unannounced, carrying takeout and hoping to surprise him. the sight that greeted you instead was something you’d never forget. minjun had been in his living room, his hand tugging on another girl’s hair, the other on her waist as they makeout heavily. their light giggles echoing through the walls you thought you knew so well. you’d dropped the food in shock, the containers spilling onto the floor, and the way minjun’s face had paled when he saw you… it was a moment forever etched into your heart.

“its not what it looks like,” he’d said, scrambling for an explanation, but all you felt was betrayal, the heartache, the realization that the person you’d trusted had broken you in a way you never thought possible.

you come back to the present as seokmin's voice pulls you back, “oh i dropped a post it, ‘hope to see you there - kim hanna’ who the hell is kim hanna?” seokmin reaches for the invite again, his eyes scanning the words imprinted on the paper, “kim hanna…isnt she the girl he cheated on you with? that little bi- how dare she send this invi- SHE'S MARRYING HIM?” seokmin's mouth ran faster than body allowed, never finishing his sentence, but you heard and understood every word.

you snatch the invite back. the wedding is in 2 weeks.

are you hurt? no. heartbroken? no. sad? no. upset? just a little bit. angry? oh yes, yes you were. all the anger still simmering beneath the surface as you grip the wedding invite tightly. seokmin watches you with concern, his earlier frustration shifting into worry as he notices the way anger starts to consume you.

“you okay?” he asks gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

you softened, “yeah i just… i can’t believe he’s getting married after everything he did.”

seokmin’s grip tightens, his protective brother instincts kicking in. “you don’t have to go,” he says firmly. “and if you decide to, you won’t go alone. i’ll be right there with you, you know the boys will be too. whatever you need.”

his words bring a small sense of comfort, but the invitation still feels like a dagger, reopening wounds you thought had finally healed. “oh I'm definitely going,”

“why?”

“just because. & I need a date-”

“I can be your date.”

“no you can't.”

“why not?”

“because i need my date to be my fake boyfriend. i cant show up all single to an ex's wedding & everyone knows we grow up together. we're practically siblings we would never ever date each other! that's disgusting."

seokmin's fake dramatic gasp only leaves your laughing, the anger that once resided is now long forgotten. “how can you say that?” he continues, “don't you watch movies? don't you read books? or even better, fanfiction? that's like a really popular trope and it's popular for a reason! why? because it's real, it happens. what if I'm in love with you and you just don't know it? then what? you could have seriously hurt my feelings!”

“yeah could have, that means I didn't. and don't think I forgot about the time we all played truth or dare and chan dared you to kiss me and you literally threw up from how repulsed you were by me. how could you possibly be in love with me? unless...you puked because you were nervous.." you said as you wiggled your eyebrows disturbingly. “also what hell fanfiction do you read? why didnt i know about that?”

“EW!!!" he screams as he steps away from you, "AS IF YOU COULD EVER MAKE ME NERVOUS!"

“& the fanfiction? what do you read? come on, spill!”

“that's none of your business.”

“seok-”

“beyonce x reader.” it was almost as if he was dying to tell you.

the laugh you burst out only brings relief to seokmin, now he knows you're really okay. you've moved on, just angry at the audacity of them. “please beyonce would never pick you.” you joked as you got up from the sofa. “come on, be serious, this is serious stuff. I need a fake boyfriend.”

“ask seungcheol.” seokmin answers easily without missing a beat, as if the answer was obvious.

“why seungcheol?” you heart raced at the mere idea of seungcheol being your date for the night, let alone boyfriend.

“because…he never says no to you. like ever,” he gives a brief, small smile before he turns to walk away. “oh and also, don't you think he'd fit the role perfectly?”

[—]

but that's what happens when seokmin plants the idea in your head, because you now find yourself in seungcheol's apartment.

you sit in seungcheol’s living room, heart pounding as you try to muster the courage to speak. he’s standing in front of you, arms crossed loosely over his broad chest, looking at you with his usual gentle, patient expression. but somehow, today, that patience makes your nerves worse. you’re not sure why you’re suddenly so embarrassed; maybe it’s the way his dark eyes seem to search your face for any hint of what’s coming.

“so… what did you want to ask me?” he prompts, his voice warm and inviting, though there’s a hint of curiosity lurking beneath it.

you swallow, your palms damp. “you can totally say no if you want to, there’s no pressure at all but um-”

seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow at your hesitation, “you’re making me nervous,” he jokes, though there’s a genuine note of concern in his eyes. “what’s going on?”

you inhale deeply, avoiding his gaze as you force the words out. “so, i got this wedding invite. from…my ex.” you don’t have to elaborate for seungcheol to know which ex you mean. his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, a flash of something dark passing over his expression before he smooths it out.

“han minjun,” he says, and the way he says the name makes it sound like a curse. his hands uncross, one clenching the back of a chair as he leans into it. “are you… are you okay?”

“yeah,” you say quickly, “i’m okay, really. just…it's in two weeks, and he’s marrying the girl he—” you stop yourself before the floodgate of bad memories start flowing. you look up at seungcheol, feeling your face grow warm. “anyway, that’s not the point. the point is…i need a date.”

seungcheol’s eyes soften, his tension melting away just a bit. “oh,” he says, and a smile tugs at his lips in realization, “you want me to be your date?”

“yes. i mean-” you fidget with the hem of your shirt. “only if you’re okay with it. you don’t have to-”

“of course,” he interrupts, his answer immediate, his voice firm. “if it’s for that, there’s no way i’d say no.” his protective instincts flare up at the mere thought of you facing your ex alone, and he wants to be there for you, to shield you from any pain that might resurface.

you feel relief wash over you, but then the real request lodges itself in your throat. you take a deep breath. “but… not just as a date,” you say quietly. “i need… i need a fake boyfriend. i can’t just show up to his wedding…single.”

seungcheol blinks, and for a moment, he thinks you’re joking. you watch as his expression shifts, surprise giving way to something more complicated. his smile falters, and his eyes search yours for any hint of hesitation, or a joke even. any indication that you might realize what this could mean for him.

a fake boyfriend. the words echo in his mind, and his heart aches, even as he tries to keep his face neutral. he’s spent the past 3 years hiding his feelings, protecting your friendship, waiting for a moment that never seemed to come. and now, here you are, asking him to pretend.

“a fake boyfriend,” he repeats, and his voice is steady, but there’s a hint of something broken underneath. he can’t help but imagine what it’ll be like to hold your hand, to smile at you, to pretend to be the one who gets to loves you openly…only to have it all stripped away when the charade is over. he knows he’s setting himself up for heartbreak, but how can he say no to you? how could he ever refuse you when you look at him like that?

“cheol?” you ask hesitantly, noticing his pause. “is that… is that too much to ask? i’m sorry, it’s just-”

he shakes his head quickly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “no, it’s not too much,” he says softly. “if that’s what you need, then… i’ll do it.”

“really?” your eyes light up with hope, and he wishes he could bottle up the way you look at him, keep it forever.

“really,” he confirms, even though his heart is already starting to fracture. he pushes down the longing, the desperate yearning to be more than just a fake. because he knows this is all he’ll get—a bittersweet taste of something he can’t truly have. but for now, he’ll take what he can get. even if it means breaking his own heart for the chance to be close to you.

[—]

“rules. we need rules. oh and boundaries. just to be safe, you know? not make it weird.” you informed as you pick up a piece of blank paper & pen from your desk before jumping onto bed.

seungcheol lies on his stomach on your bed as he waits for you, “what kind of rules and boundaries do you have in mind?” he asks.

“well for one, no falling in love. like, we both have to promise that this stays strictly pretend. we can’t let it mess with our friendship.”

for a moment, silence fills the room. when you glance at seungcheol, his expression is unreadable. “no falling in love,” he repeats quietly, his voice almost too steady. you don’t notice the way his jaw tightens, the way he clenches his fist against the sheets.

you give him a nervous smile. “exactly. we both need to agree to that.”

“right,” he says, his voice softer now. “no falling in love.” he repeats louder this time, his heart aches at the irony, because if only you knew how deeply he’s already fallen. but he forces himself to nod, to play along, to act like he isn’t breaking the very first rule you laid out just by being here. “any other rules?”

“um, yeah,” you continue, scribbling your next point onto the paper. “okay,” you say, oblivious to the turmoil in his chest. “it has to be believable. like, no half-assing it. if we’re going to do this, we have to commit. but, uh, within reason, of course.”

seungcheol chuckles at that, the sound breaking through the tension. “within reason?” he echoes, his smile genuine this time.

“yeah, nothing too….much,”

“& what exactly is too much?”

“kisses,” you answer without missing a beat.

seungcheol smiles, "so, i can’t kiss you, even if it’s just for an act?"

you pause, thinking over his question. the way he says it, so casual yet so heavy, sends a shiver down your spine. “i mean… kisses are too intimate. that crosses the line.” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how nervous the thought of kissing him makes you.

seungcheol watches you closely, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “too intimate?” he repeats, almost teasingly, but there’s something more in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. “but aren’t we supposed to look like we’re really together? won’t people think it’s suspicious if we… don’t at least pretend that we’re comfortable with that?”

“no one’s expecting a porno of us making out,” you argue, your cheeks warming at the implication. what a poor choice of words. “hand-holding, hugs, maybe a forehead or a cheek kiss if we’re feeling bold. but anything beyond that…” you trail off, your mind spinning and butterflies threatening to invade your tummy at the thought of seungcheol’s lips anywhere near yours.

he hums thoughtfully, propping his chin on his hand. “so, kisses are off the table. got it,” he says, though there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice that you dont pick up. “any other rules?”

“that's all i can think of for now, what about you? anything you dont want me to do? anything to add?” you ask.

“no, I'll do whatever you want me to.” he says, a mixture of fondness and longing swirling in his chest.

“okay, i guess we're really doing this huh?” you ask as you feel some tension leave your body.

“yeah,” he murmurs, even as his heart screams at the unfairness of it all. if only you knew just how real it already was for him.

[—]

“did you actually really ask seungcheol to be your fake boyfriend?” seungkwan questions, taking another sip from his iced americano, his eyes narrowing at you suspiciously.

you sigh, pressing your palms to your face. “how did you even find out about that?”

“seokmin told me. now answer me! did you actually?” seungkwan presses, his tone both exasperated and concerned. he’s your best friend. he knows every secret, every late-night confession, and every tear you’ve ever shed over seungcheol.

you glance away, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “yeah... i did,” you admit softly.

seungkwan lets out a small groan, leaning back in his seat. he’s silent for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his judgment hanging between you. but there’s something else there, too. something heavier, deeper. regret, maybe.

four years ago, you were a helpless mess, pinning after seungcheol like a lovesick fool. seungkwan remembered the way you’d light up whenever seungcheol was around, the way your laughter sounded a little brighter, your smile a little wider. and he remembered the way seungcheol seemed oblivious, never showing a sign of returning your feelings.

seungkwan had wanted to help you. he’d been desperate to see you happy, to save you from the heartache that came from unrequited love. so he’d done the only thing he could think of at the time: he’d set you up with someone else.

“do you remember when i introduced you to minjun?” seungkwan asks, his voice suddenly quieter, more somber.

you blink, caught off guard by the question. “of course i do,” you reply. how could you forget? you’d been resistant at first, clinging to the faint hope that seungcheol would notice you one day. but seungkwan had been insistent. he’d told you that minjun was a good guy, someone who could make you happy, someone who could help you move on.

“you were so against it,” seungkwan recalls, his lips curving into a wistful smile. “but you finally agreed, and... well, you actually hit it off.”

a small laugh escapes your lips, though it lacks any real humor. “yeah. we did.”

for a while, dating han minjun had felt like a breath of fresh air. he was charming, thoughtful, and everything you thought you needed. for a moment, you’d even believed you’d moved on from seungcheol. but now, years later, here you were again, tangled up in your feelings for him, pretending to date him, no less.

seungkwan’s expression softens as he looks at you. “you know, i really did think minjun was a good guy back then. i just... i didn’t want to see you hurt anymore.” his voice wavers, and you can tell he feels guilty, even if it wasn’t his fault that things turned out this way.

“i know,” you murmur. “you were just trying to help.”

seungkwan sighs, setting his juice box down. “but now you’re back to seungcheol, except this time it’s... fake. and that worries me.”

your throat tightens, and you don’t know how to explain that being with seungcheol, even if it’s just for show, feels better than being with anyone else. even if it hurts a little. or maybe a lot.

“it’s complicated,” you whisper, but seungkwan isn’t satisfied. his eyes bore into yours, filled with worry and protectiveness, like he’s already bracing for the heartbreak he’s sure is coming.

[—]

“do you think we should pick something that matches or just, you know, kind of goes together?” you ask, sifting through rows of dresses, your fingers brushing over various shades of fabric.

seungcheol tries to focus on the suits in front of him, but he’s barely listening, too distracted by the way your voice lilts at the end of your question. “hm?” he clears his throat, hoping you don’t notice how he’s completely lost his train of thought. “yeah, matching is… good.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “that didn’t answer my question, cheol.”

he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “sorry. what was it again?”

“do you want our outfits to match?” you repeat, holding up a dress. it’s a deep, elegant navy blue, and seungcheol’s heart does a weird little flip. “like this one? it’s the same color as that suit you’re holding.”

seungcheol swallows hard, imagining the two of you side by side, perfectly coordinated, like a couple in a fairytale. he tries to shake the thought away. “yeah, that’s… perfect,” he says, his voice coming out softer than he intended.

you seem satisfied with his answer, disappearing into the dressing room to try it on. seungcheol stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, heart pounding for no reason he can justify. he’s known you for years, been by your side for countless moments, but something about this—the idea of the two of you dressed up together, the way you trusted his opinion—feels different, it makes his heart race.

“cheol?” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, his breath catching in his throat as you step out of the dressing room.

he’s not prepared for the sight. you look… breathtaking, the dress fitting you in a way that leaves him momentarily stunned. his eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. it’s like he’s forgotten how to speak.

you tilt your head, concern flickering in your eyes. “is it bad?”

“no!” he blurts out, voice cracking embarrassingly. he clears his throat again; surprised at his own voice, his cheeks burning. “no, you look—” he stammers, searching for the right words, his mind a complete mess. but then, he smiles his boyish smile, his dimples dipping more than they usually do & says “god, you look… beautiful. really beautiful.”

you blink, taken aback, and seungcheol swears he sees your cheeks flush a little. he’s painfully aware of how warm his own face feels, how his hands are suddenly clammy.

“thank you,” you say, your voice softer now. you look at him, eyes wide and earnest, and seungcheol can’t handle it. he has to look away, but not before he sees the small smile spreading across your face.

he fiddles with the cuff of his suit jacket, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “you… you really think this is the one?” he asks, his voice cracking again. he winces.

you nod, your smile growing. “i think it’s perfect. but… what about your suit?”

he’s still trying to recover from seeing you in that dress, but he manages to nod. “right, my suit,” he says, forcing himself to focus. “i’ll go try it on.”

you sit down on a bench, and seungcheol practically sprints to the fitting room, his heart pounding. he stares at his reflection as he pulls on the navy suit jacket, trying to breathe. he looks like a mess, his hair sticking up from how many times he’s run his hands through it, his face still red.

“come on, cheol,” he mutters to himself. “get it together.”

when he finally steps out, he catches the way your eyes light up, the way you look him over and nod approvingly. “that’s perfect,” you say, and his heart does that stupid flip again. “we’ll look great together.”

he laughs, but it’s a weak attempt to hide how fast his heart is racing. “yeah. we will.” the words come out before he can stop them; even he knows he sounds completely & irrevocably smitten but he can’t help it, not when you’re looking at him like that.

[—]

“so, did you say yes to being her date?” seokmin asked casually, thumbs tapping furiously at the controller in his hands as he and seungcheol tried to hold their ground in the game. “you know, her fake boyfriend and all that?”

seungcheol’s fingers faltered on the buttons for a split second, and he shot seokmin a glare. “yah, focus on the game, we can't lose,” he grumbled, feeling his face heat up. but, of course, seokmin had to bring it up now.

“wait, what?” wonwoo’s attention snapped away from the screen, his character on the verge of getting attacked. he gawked at seungcheol. “when did this happen? and why didn’t you tell us?”

soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his character in the game momentarily stood still. “hold on, hold on,” he said, nearly dropping his controller in shock. “hyung, you’re telling us you agreed to be her date and fake boyfriend, and we’re only hearing about this now?”

“can we not talk about this?” seungcheol muttered, trying to refocus on the game, but his heart was racing. the way his stomach twisted at the mention of you and the fake dating arrangement wasn’t something he wanted to discuss—especially not with his friends teasing him about it.

“absolutely not,” soonyoung protested, his competitive spirit momentarily forgotten. “this is big news, hyung! you have to spill.”

“yeah, seungcheol,” wonwoo added, a sly grin spreading across his face. “why didn’t you tell us? don’t act like it’s not a huge deal.”

seungcheol sighed, his shoulders tensing as he kept his eyes on the screen. “because it’s not a big deal, its only for a day anyway,” he insisted, but even he could hear the strain in his voice.

“you’re so full of it,” wonwoo said, barely holding back a laugh. “you've been in love with her for god knows how long, now you agreed to be her date and pretend to be her boyfriend. how is that not a big deal?”

unfortunately, soonyoung & wonwoo, have possession over seungcheol's not so secret, secret. but really, everyone knows, it's only a secret to you, seungkwan & seokmin although seokmin has been starting to catch on for the past few months. everyone else has miraculously managed to somehow keep their mouth shut around seokmin and seungkwan for 3 years; knowing how close you are with the two of them. I guess in a way you could say the boys are loyal to him? anyways.

seungcheol’s grip on his controller tightened. “can we just focus on winning?” he pleaded, desperate to change the subject, but his friends’ curiosity was palpable.

“fine,” soonyoung said with an exaggerated sigh. “but we’re coming back to this later.”

just as seungcheol was about to let out a breath of relief, the sound of the front door opening made his heart stutter, and he turned his head, unable to help himself. you stepped into the apartment, bags in hand, looking slightly windswept but effortlessly beautiful.

“hey, i’m home!” you greeted, smiling at everyone.

seungcheol’s mind blanked, his focus slipping away entirely as he took you in. he barely registered seokmin’s frantic warning—“hyung, watch out!”—before his character was obliterated in the game.

“yes!” soonyoung cheered, throwing his hands in the air. “we won, wonwoo!”

wonwoo leaned back with a smug smile, “thank you,” he said, looking over at you.

you blinked, confused. “me? what did i do?”

wonwoo’s eyes glinted with mischief. “it’s nothing you need to know… yet,” he replied, his voice teasing, and he shot you a knowing smile. “but thank you anyway.”

you tilted your head, clearly still confused, but you shrugged it off. “okay, if you say so,” you said, heading down the hall. “i’m gonna go take a quick shower.”

seungcheol watched you disappear, his shoulders slumping as he realized just how badly he’d let himself get distracted. he could feel the heat rising to his face, embarrassment and longing twisting in his chest.

seungcheol couldn't let it show. or at least, he thought he didn’t. he tried to play it cool, act normal around you, and pretend that his heart didn’t stutter every time you called his name. but apparently, seokmin noticed.

“you’ve got that look again,” seokmin pointed out, a teasing lilt in his voice.

seungcheol turned to find seokmin leaning against the backrest of the sofa, a grin spreading across his face. he blinked, feigning ignorance. “what look?”

“you know,” seokmin drawled, pushing himself off the backrest to lean closer to seungcheol “that look you get when she’s around.”

seungcheol felt his pulse skip, an uncomfortable warmth creeping up his neck. he avoided seokmin’s eyes, choosing instead to stare at the floor. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, hoping his voice sounded steady.

“sure you don’t.” seokmin plopped down beside him, elbow nudging his ribs. “c’mon, hyung. you’re not exactly subtle.”

seungcheol rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to shake. “it’s not like that,” he insisted, though even he knew how unconvincing he sounded.

seokmin raised an eyebrow. “really?” he asked, voice softening. “because the way you look at her…you look at her like you'd burn down the whole world for her.”

seungcheol’s throat tightened, and he pressed his lips together, finally meeting seokmin’s gaze. there was no judgment there, only curiosity and a quiet sort of understanding.

“i didn’t mean to,” seungcheol admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “it just… happened.”

seokmin’s smile was gentle now, the teasing gone. “and what are you gonna do about it?”

seungcheol’s hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, a sense of helplessness washing over him. “nothing,” he said, bitterness seeping into the word. “she’s too important. if i mess this up… i can’t lose her.”

seokmin studied him for a moment, the silence stretching between them. “but what if you don’t lose her?” he said quietly. “what if she feels the same way?”

seungcheol’s heart twisted painfully. the thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count, but he always pushed it away, too afraid to hope. “and what if she doesn’t?” he countered, his voice breaking. “i’d rather be close to her like this than lose everything.”

seokmin sighed, leaning back on his hands. “i get it,” he murmured. “but you can’t live your whole life being afraid. sometimes, you’ve got to take the risk.”

seungcheol let out a humorless laugh. “easy for you to say,” he mumbled, but his chest felt a little lighter, the weight of his secret shared, even if just for a moment.

seokmin’s smile returned, playful once more. “hey, i’m rooting for you,” he said, clapping a hand on seungcheol’s shoulder. “but seriously, the way you look at her… it’s gonna give you away one day.”

seungcheol swallowed, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “maybe,” he whispered. “but not today.”

seokmin grinned, standing up and offering a hand to pull seungcheol to his feet. “well, just know i’ll be there to say ‘i told you so’ when it happens.”

seungcheol took his hand, rising to his feet. “yeah, yeah,” he said, but his heart felt a little less heavy & a lot more hopeful.

[—]

seungcheol stood outside your bedroom door with seokmin, heart pounding as he took a steadying breath. it wasn’t the first time he was picking you up, but today felt different. maybe it was the gravity of the wedding you were attending, or maybe it was the fact that this arrangement had slowly become more real for him than he ever dared admit.

“hyung, you okay?” seokmin asked, glancing at him curiously.

seungcheol blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “yeah,” he lied, his voice sounding far more confident than he felt. “let’s just…get this over with.” he lied, it hasn't even started yet but he doesnt want it to end.

seokmin gave him a sorry look but said nothing, and before seungcheol could dwell on it, you opened the door to your room. his breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he forgot how to speak. you stood there, radiant in a simple yet elegant dress, hair styled perfectly, eyes sparkling with nervous anticipation.

he was so down bad for you, it was almost pathetic.

he couldn't help the boyish smile that adorned his face, “you look… beautiful.” he didn’t trust himself to say more, afraid that if he did, the truth would come spilling out.

a faint blush dusted your cheeks, and you smiled, the kind of smile that made his heart feel like it was doing somersaults. “thanks, cheol,” you said shyly, adjusting your dress. “you clean up pretty well yourself.

he let out a laugh, hoping it masked the way his pulse was racing. “you ready?” he asked, extending his hand to you. “our grand entrance awaits.”

you hesitated for the briefest moment, but then you slipped your hand into his, and he had to fight the urge to hold on tighter, to pull you closer and never let go. he couldn’t, of course. this was all an act. just a performance to keep up appearances, to help you save face in front of your ex and everyone else.

but god, how he wished it were real.

[—]

the car ride was quiet at first, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the soft music playing from the radio. seungcheol couldn’t help but glance at you every few seconds, noting the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your dress. he knew you well enough to recognize the signs of your anxiety, and his chest tightened.

“hey,” he said gently, reaching over to take your hand in his. your eyes widened in surprise, but you dont pull away. instead, you stared at your intertwined fingers, and he wondered if you could feel his heart pounding.

“are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more careful. “if you’re not, we can turn around. we don’t have to go.”

you shook your head, a small, determined smile forming on your lips. “i’m fine,” you whispered. “it’s just… weird, you know? seeing him get married.”

seungcheol swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. he hated that minjun hurt you and how he couldn’t do anything but hold your hand and hope it was enough.

“if you want to leave at any point,” he said, squeezing your hand gently, “just say the word. i’ll get you out of there, no questions asked.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like he was being laid bare under your gaze, your eyes boring into his. “thank you, cheol,” you murmured, and your voice cracked just a little. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

his chest ached, a mix of longing and fear swirling inside him. he wanted to tell you that he’d always be there, that he’d never leave, but he didn’t. instead, he settled for rubbing soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping you couldn’t feel how badly he was trembling.

the silence in the car was comfortable, but electric, charged with something unspoken. the way your shoulders relaxed under his touch, the way your breathing evened out as he held your hand—it was almost enough to make him believe that you felt the same way.

but that was dangerous territory, and seungcheol knew better than to get his hopes up.

“you know,” he said lightly, trying to steer his thoughts away from the ache in his chest, “you’re kind of incredible. not everyone could handle a situation like this with so much grace.”

you laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “i don’t know about that or this grace you speak of,” you said. “i’m still trying to convince myself not to run away.”

“if you run,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, “i’ll run with you. we can both escape and go somewhere far away. just the two of us.”

the joke made you laugh, but there was a wistful note to it, and seungcheol had to look away to keep himself from saying something stupid. his heart was a mess, pounding wildly with every word, every touch, every second he spent in your presence.

“thanks, cheol,” you said again, your voice quieter now. “really. i’m so lucky to have you.”

seungcheol drove on, your hand still in his, hoping that this moment would last a little longer.

[—]

the wedding had gone off without a hitch, at least on the surface. the vows had been exchanged, laughter and applause filling the air, and now the reception was in full swing. seungcheol had been trying his best to stay close to you, to keep you from feeling the weight of the memories this day might bring. but as he returned with your drinks, he froze.

there you were, standing stiffly, looking more tense than he’d seen you all night. and, of course, minjun was in front of you, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he leaned in, saying something seungcheol couldn’t quite hear. your polite smile was brittle, your shoulders tense, and anger flared in his chest.

he forced himself to take a calming breath before approaching, setting your drinks down on a nearby table and stepping in between you & minjun, “hey,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but firm. “everything okay here?”

your eyes darted to him, a flicker of relief crossing your face. you tried to smile, but it wavered. “yeah,” you said, your voice a little too tight. “we were just… talking.”

minjun glanced at seungcheol, an eyebrow arching. “seungcheol?” he asked, a smug smile playing on his lips. “fancy seeing you here, i dont remember including you in the invite?” he quirked an eyebrow.

you opened your mouth, your voice coming out steadier this time. “actually, he's my plus one, since we're dating.”

“dating? as in, he's your boyfriend?” minjun asked as he sneaked a glance at seungcheol.

“yes, actually.” your words sent your stomach doing flips.

the disbelief on minjun’s face was palpable. he snorted, his gaze flicking between the two of you as if you’d just told a joke. “boyfriend? really?” he smirked, clearly unconvinced. “come on. that’s a little desperate, don’t you think?” minjun tries to reach for your hand.

before you could react, seungcheol stepped forward, his hand moving to reach for yours protectively; staking his claim. “i don’t think your wife,” he said, emphasizing the word with a hint of sarcasm, “would appreciate you making my girlfriend uncomfortable.”

minjun’s smile faltered, but he didn’t back down. “prove it,” he challenged, crossing his arms. “you really expect me to believe this… whatever this is?”

seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “we don’t need to prove anything to you,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “& you certainly don't have the right to ask for anything, much less a proof, not after all the shit you’ve done.”

minjun’s expression soured, but before he could respond, seungcheol turned to you, his eyes softening. “come on, pretty,” he murmured, his voice gentle and eyes earnest,. “dance with me?”

you stomach did somersaults, seungcheol watches you intently, he watches the way your expression melts into a grateful smile. you leaned in close and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “thank you,” you whispered, so quietly he barely heard it.

his heart stuttered in his chest, warmth flooding through him. but he forced himself to push the feeling away, to remind himself that this was all for show. you were only doing this because minjun was watching, because you needed to keep up the pretense. there was no way you actually meant that kiss, no way you felt the same fluttering in your chest that he did.

but he couldn’t help the way his heart betrayed him, the way his entire body seemed to light up at the simple touch of your lips on his skin. he swallowed, hoping you didn’t notice the way his cheeks flushed, and offered you his hand.

“let’s go,” you said, taking his hand, your smile genuine and warm.

the music had shifted to a slow song, and seungcheol led you onto the dance floor, his fingers still intertwined with yours. his heart was pounding, his mind racing, but he tried to focus on you, on the way you were looking at him now, your eyes so full of trust and something he couldn’t quite place.

“thank you,” you said again, your voice a little steadier this time.

he gave you a small smile, trying to keep his emotions in check. “i’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice soft. “you know that, right?”

you nodded, your gaze flickering down to where his hand rested on your waist. “i do,” you whispered, and for a moment, he thought he saw something more in your eyes. something he desperately wanted to believe in.

seungcheol tried to ignore the way your body fit so perfectly against his, the way your smile sent his heart racing. he couldn’t let himself read too much into the way you were looking at him.

but it was so, so hard.

“cheol,” you said suddenly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “can i ask you something?”

he swallowed, his throat dry. “of course.”

“why did you say yes?” you asked, your voice hesitant. “to being my date and�� pretending to be my boyfriend?”

his breath caught in his throat. he hadn’t expected that question, and he wasn’t sure how to answer without giving himself away. “because you needed me to,” he said finally, and it was the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “and i’d do anything for you.”

your eyes softened, and he wondered if you could see right through him, if you knew just how badly he was hurting, just how desperately he wanted this to be real.

“you’re too good to me,” you whispered.

he shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “no,” he said. “i’m just… selfish.”

you tilted your head, confused. “selfish?”

he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words dying on his tongue. he couldn’t tell you. he couldn’t ruin this. “never mind,” he said, forcing a laugh. “just… ignore me.”

but you didn’t. your gaze lingered on him, searching, and he had to look away before he did something stupid, like confess right then and there.

“cheol,” you said, your voice so soft it made his heart ache. “what are you hiding?”

“nothing,” he lied, pulling you a little closer, trying to focus on the music instead of the way your eyes were looking right into his soul. “i’m not hiding anything.”

but he was. he was hiding everything. the way he loved you, the way he wanted you, the way he’d give anything to be more than…this.

“okay,” you said finally, but he could hear the doubt in your voice. “if you say so.”

“you know,” he said as he let out a small sigh, his voice barely above a whisper, “you didn’t have to kiss my cheek just now. not for minjun’s sake, anyway.”

you tilted your head, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i didn’t do it for him,” you said quietly as seungcheol watches your eyes sparkle and dilate, for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

“then… why?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

your gaze searching his face. “just because.. i wanted to.”

seungcheol’s mind went blank, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the sudden, overwhelming rush of hope that filled his chest.

“should we call it a night?” you asked, your voice gentle as you turned to seungcheol, who still seemed lost in thought. you weren’t sure if it was because of the way you had kissed his cheek earlier or if he was still worried about you, but his expression had been hard to read.

seungcheol blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he had been in. “yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “let’s head home. but, uh, let me hit the bathroom real quick first?”

you nodded, offering him a small smile. “i’ll wait by the entrance.”

he nodded back, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before he turned and made his way to the restroom. as he walked, he felt his heart racing, the memory of your soft kiss on his cheek replaying in his mind. you’d said it was just because you wanted to, but that couldn’t mean anything... right?

seungcheol washed his hands, letting the cool water calm him down. he took a deep breath, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. he doesn't really want this night to end, he's not ready for that yet.

but that’s when he heard it: voices coming from one of the stalls, low but loud enough to catch his attention.

“man, i still can’t believe you're actually married,” one voice said, a hint of mockery in his tone. “and only because you got her pregnant. how the hell did you screw up that bad?”

what the hell? seungcheol’s jaw clenched, but he forced himself to stay quiet, listening.

“don’t remind me,” minjun’s familiar voice replied. “i know, okay? it’s not like i love her or anything. but i couldn’t just bail, you know? had to do the right thing, i guess.”

the right thing? seungcheol thinks to himself, yet cheating on you is okay?

the friend laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “still, hanna’s nothing compared to your ex. that girl is so much hotter than your wife. you should’ve stayed with her.”

seungcheol’s grip on the sink tightened, his knuckles going white.

“hey, i made a mistake,” minjun grumbled, clearly defensive. “she really is hot. i was just thinking with my other head back then, okay?”

“yeah, well,” his friend drawled, “i would’ve made a move on her tonight if she hadn’t walked in with that new boyfriend of hers. what’s his name again? seungcheol or something?”

“yeah, well, i tried to,” minjun admitted, and seungcheol could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “but he showed up before i could.”

“did you see the dress she was wearing?” minjun laughed as he added, “she's got such a killer body…bet I could make her cheat on that boyfriend of hers, what do you say? 50 bucks? bet on it?”

that was it. the final straw. anger flared hot and fierce in seungcheol’s chest, and before he knew it, he was storming over to the stall. he yanked the door open, and the look of shock on both men’s faces did nothing to quell his rage.

“what the fuck did you say? you think you can talk about her like that?” seungcheol growled, his voice low and dangerous. “after everything you’ve done?”

minjun barely had time to react before seungcheol’s fist connected with his jaw. the fight was quick, brutal, and messy, with fists flying and the sound of grunts echoing off the bathroom walls. seungcheol didn’t care about the pain in his knuckles or the way his cheek throbbed from a poorly blocked punch. all he cared about was defending your honor, protecting you from these men who had no right to even think about you, let alone look in your direction.

when seungcheol finally left the bathroom, his heart was still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins. his cheeks were slightly bloodied and his knuckles were bruised.

but before he could reach the entrance to get to you, someone grabbed his arm. he turned, only to see hanna, minjun’s wife, looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. “oh my god,” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “what happened to you?”

at first, she seemed genuinely worried, but then her eyes raked over him, and her concern twisted into something more flirtatious. she reached out, her hands brushing against his arms. “you look so hot like this with all the bruises,” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his biceps.

seungcheol stiffened, every nerve in his body screaming for him to pull away. “don't,” he held a hand up, “i have a girlfriend,” he said firmly, stepping back. he glanced around, hoping you hadn’t seen any of this.

but you had. your eyes had caught sight of the scene, the way hanna's hands lingered on seungcheol’s arms, and your stomach twisted painfully. you didn’t understand why it hurt so much to see it, why your heart felt heavy and your chest ached. this was seungcheol, your good friend. you’d moved on from this heartbreak years ago... right?

you tore your gaze away, your mind spinning. you couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy, the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him with someone else, but it made no sense. seungcheol was just your friend. nothing more.

when seungcheol finally made his way over to you, unaware that you saw him & hanna, was careful not to mention it or the fight that happened. instead, he focused on the gossip he’d overheard in the bathroom. “hey,” he said, his voice gentle, “did you know?”

you barely registered his words, your mind still replaying the image of hanna's hands on his arms. your chest felt tight, and you couldn’t explain why.

“apparently,” seungcheol continued, “this whole wedding is a shotgun marriage. she’s pregnant, and that’s why they’re doing all this.” he paused, searching your face for any reaction, but you weren’t really hearing him.

“huh?” you finally said, blinking as you came back to the present. your eyes widened when you took in his bruised knuckles and the cut on his cheek. “oh my god, seungcheol. what happened to you?”

“did you hear anything of what i just said?” he asked, a mixture of frustration and worry in his voice.

you glared at him, your concern overshadowing everything else. “no, but i’m sure it’s nowhere near as important as this,” you snapped, gesturing to his bruised face and bloodied hands.

seungcheol sighed, his shoulders slumping. “it’s nothing,” he insisted, but he knew you wouldn’t let it go. not when you looked at him with so much worry, so much care, and it made his heart ache.

“nothing?” the depth of your furrowed brows going deeper, “you're bleeding, cheol.” your tone angry. “come on,” you said, your voice softening. “i’m taking you back to my place. i need to take care of those wounds.”

he tried to protest, but you wouldn’t hear it. “please, cheol,” you whispered, and the way you said his name made his heart stutter. he wanted so badly to believe that you cared, that this wasn’t just about him being your friend.

“fine,” he relented, his voice barely above a whisper. “but only because you’re so stubborn.”

you gave him a small, relieved smile, and he felt his resolve weaken even more.

back at your apartment, you lead seungcheol to the bathroom, rummaging through the first aid kit with a determined focus. he sits on the edge of the bathtub, watching you with a mixture of awe and longing. it’s overwhelming how gentle you are with him, the way your fingers tremble slightly as you gather supplies to tend to his wounds. he wants to believe this moment means something more than simple concern for a friend, that the tenderness in your gaze holds feelings he’s been longing to hear you speak out loud.

“does it hurt?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you dab a damp cloth against the cut on his cheek, your touch feather-light.

“no,” he says, his gaze never wavering from your face. the sting is nothing compared to the ache of wanting you. his heart pounds relentlessly, each beat echoing the longing he’s kept hidden for so long.

you move to bandage his knuckles, your fingers lingering on his for just a moment longer than necessary. “you’re so reckless,” you murmur, but your tone is soft, carrying nothing but worry.

he swallows, throat tight. “i couldn’t stand hearing them talk about you like that,” he admits, the words escaping before he can second-guess them.

your hands freeze. you look up at him, brows furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean?”

he hesitates, regret mingling with vulnerability, wanting to tell you everything but afraid of what might come next. “just... they were saying things they shouldn’t,” he settles on, the explanation falling flat compared to the storm raging inside him. “i couldn’t let it go.”

the bathroom feels smaller, the air thicker. you lean in closer, a wrinkle of worry creasing your forehead. “seungcheol…”

his hand lifts before he can stop it, and his fingers brush your cheek, gentle and unsure. “i just want to keep you safe,” he whispers, voice cracking, heart lodged in his throat. “even if it means getting a little bruised up.”

you’re so close now that your breath mingles with his, warm and intoxicating. your chest tightens, and something inside you shifts. you can’t tell if it’s the tenderness in his voice or the way his eyes seem to hold a secret you’ve always yearned to know. you feel your pulse spike, your mind racing. all the feelings you’ve tried so hard to bury come rushing back with an intensity that scares you.

you kneel in front of him, biting back the realization that you never really moved on, that you never truly stopped loving him. your feelings have been buried, but they resurface now, raw and undeniable, and you can’t pretend anymore.

“tonight was...a lot,” seungcheol says quietly, breaking the heavy silence. his eyes search yours, trying to make sense of the tension thick in the room.

you nod, hands trembling slightly as you pull back, though not far enough to break the spell. “yeah,” you manage, voice unsteady. “it was.”

seungcheol watches you with a gaze so full of longing that it makes your heart ache. he’s proud of you, he’s always been proud of you, but the way he’s looking at you now is different. “you were amazing,” he says, the sincerity in his voice making your breath catch. “the way you handled everything… i’m so proud of you.”

his words break something inside of you, and before you know it, you’re leaning in, closing the distance. it’s an impulse, a mistake, but you just couldn't help yourself. your lips brush against his, and for a heartbeat, time stands still.

seungcheol freezes in shock, but then he responds. his hands fly to your waist, pulling you closer, and he kisses you back with a fervor that leaves you breathless. the tension snaps like a taut wire, replaced by a burst of passion, and everything you’ve both kept buried pours out.

his fingers tighten around your waist, your hands finding their way into his hair, and you lose yourself in him. the way he tastes, the way he holds you, feels like a dream you don’t want to wake from. your heart races as the kiss deepens, desperate and all-consuming.

but then reality crashes over you like a tidal wave. you pull back abruptly, breaking away, your eyes wide with shock and horror. seungcheol looks dazed, lips parted, hair slightly mussed from your hands, and the sight of him so undone because of you only makes the guilt worse.

“i-” you stammer, voice cracking as you scramble to your feet. “oh my god. i’m so sorry.”

“wait-” he begins, but you’re already moving, stumbling backward, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “i shouldn’t have… we promised we wouldn’t-”

“it’s okay,” he tries to reassure you, his voice gentle yet laced with desperation. he stands, reaching for you, but you take another step back, your emotions spiraling.

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, overwhelmed and terrified by the feelings that won’t stop crashing over you. “i ruined everything.”

you feel tears prick your eyes, your chest aching with regret and confusion. the kiss shattered the fragile balance between you, and you don’t know how to piece it back together. “you should go,” you manage, voice cracking. “its getting late,” your head starts feeling dizzy, “I'll call you tomorrow.”

before seungcheol can argue, before he can make sense of the whirlwind between you, you’re gone. you rush out of the bathroom, heart hammering, not sure where to go but needing to escape. the apartment feels suffocating, your feelings too much to handle, and you slam your bedroom door behind you.

you lean against it, sliding down until you’re curled up on the floor, tears spilling down your cheeks. what have you done? you kissed seungcheol, and now everything is a mess. the love you never let yourself acknowledge burns bright, and it terrifies you.

in the bathroom, seungcheol stands frozen, the ghost of your kiss still lingering on his lips. he’s never felt more hopeless, more in love, and more afraid that he’s lost you forever. the echo of your apology rings in his ears, and he clenches his fists, wishing he could take away the hurt and confusion you’re feeling.

he tells himself he’ll wait for you to call, but he’s terrified that this time, waiting might not be enough.

but still, seungcheol waits.

the days stretched on, each one feeling heavier than the last. it had been a week since the wedding, a week since that kiss had turned his world upside down, and still, there was no call from you. you had promised, but the days passed in silence. he wanted so bad to be the one reaching out, but he knows you well enough to know that it wouldnt end well, and that you needed your own time to process things. but he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between you. each morning he woke up with a sliver of hope, a quiet, desperate wish that today would be the day you would reach out. but by every nightfall, the silence was all he had. the silence, and the ache that gnawed at him constantly.

he kept replaying that moment over and over in his mind, the feel of your lips on his, the way your eyes had searched his face afterward. the hope, the confusion, the raw vulnerability—it haunted him, leaving him restless and on edge. there was something about the way you pulled away from him, your apology spilling out in a rush, that made his heart ache. his own feelings were a mess, tangled up in things he hadn’t fully understood until that kiss, much less you, right?

he tried to keep busy, to drown the thoughts that plagued him. the gym became his sanctuary, his second home, a place to work out the frustration, the ache in his chest. he lifted weights until his body screamed for rest, hoping that physical exhaustion would bring some peace. but no matter how much he tried to tire himself out, the ache remained, lurking at the edges of his mind, waiting for the quiet moments when it all came rushing back.

work was just a blur, the hours blending together as he went through the motions. he found himself distracted, staring at his phone more often than usual, his thumb hovering over your contact, only to put it down before he could hit send. what would he even say? what if you weren't ready yet & him reaching out only made things worse? what if you didn’t even want to hear from him? what if his feelings were just a one-sided mess that he’d have to live with forever?

the days bled into one another, each one more unbearable than the last. he couldn’t tell anyone how much he missed you—how much he longed to hear your voice, to see you again, to figure out what all of this meant. so he kept it all inside, bottled up, carrying the weight of his emotions on his own. there were moments when he could feel it, the weight of his longing pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe. he had tried to be patient, to give you space, but with each passing day, that patience was wearing thin.

he wondered if he’d done something wrong. had he misread the situation? had he pushed too far when he kissed you back? maybe you only kissed him because of the atmosphere or adrenaline or whatever? every time he thought about it, he felt sick. maybe you didn’t feel the same way. maybe he had crossed a line, and now he was paying the price for it. the thought of you slipping further away from him was unbearable.

his phone sat on the coffee table, screen blank, mocking him with its silence. he had told himself he’d wait, that you’d reach out when you were ready, but the longer the silence stretched on, the harder it became to believe that. he wanted to hear your voice, to know that you weren’t angry with him, to know that the kiss hadn’t ruined everything between you. but instead, he sat in his apartment, surrounded by the deafening quiet.

& seungkwan? seungkwan had been on you about it for days.

"seriously, you’re just going to leave things like this?" seungkwan had said one morning, his eyes narrowing at you over his cup of coffee. "you kissed him. you kissed seungcheol hyung. and now you’re acting like it didn’t happen. you think he’s not waiting for you to come around?"

you hadn’t responded at first, unsure of how to even begin to process it. all you could think about was the kiss, and how everything felt so wrong and so right in that moment, and how now, in the aftermath, everything was a mess.

"you’ve been so quiet about this. and it’s obvious to everyone. you’re both miserable. don’t you get it?" seungkwan continued, his voice growing more insistent. "you can’t just let it go, not after that. you owe it to yourself & especially to him to figure out what this is. what he is to you."

you had shaken your head, turning away, not wanting to face the truth. "i don’t even know what it is. i don’t know if i—"

"you’re making it worse by not doing anything," he cut you off, his eyes narrowing. "stop running from it. just talk to him, okay? if you don’t, you’re going to regret it."

you sighed heavily, sinking back into the couch. you had never been good at this kind of thing, especially when it came to feelings. but something in seungkwan’s words made you pause. the last thing you wanted was to regret anything.

"i don’t know if i can," you murmured. "i don’t know if he’ll even want to talk to me after everything."

seungkwan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "stop thinking like that. he doesn’t know what to do either, so you’re both stuck, waiting for the other to make a move. just go to him. get your act together."

before you could respond, the door to your apartment unlocks, interrupting your conversation, and there stood seokmin, looking far too cheerful for the somber mood that had settled over you.

"hey, what’s going on in here?" he asked, stepping inside with his usual bright smile.

you shrugged, feeling the weight of seungkwan’s words pressing on your chest. "nothing much. just… thinking."

seungkwan immediately jumped in, as if he couldn’t help himself. "you need to go talk to seungcheol. i’m so done waiting for this mess to sort itself out."

seokmin raised an eyebrow, a knowing look on his face. "ah," he crossed his arms, settling into the couch. "you’re still haven't called huh?"

"no," you admitted, your voice small. "i don’t know what to say to him."

"yeah, well, you’re not the only one," seokmin said with a sigh, his tone softening. "but running away from it won’t solve anything. look, and you know what cheol's like. if you tell him you need space & time & that you'll call him, he's gonna listen & wait for you. he’s not going to make the first move until you do so go talk to him, okay? figure it out. or at least to put that guy out of his misery."

you nodded slowly, trying to take in his words. it wasn’t that simple. it never was. but seokmin had a way of speaking to you that made you feel like maybe, you could take that first step.

seungkwan was still persistent, though. "seriously, i’m not letting you off the hook. you still love him after all these years, don’t you?"

"i don’t know," you said, your voice cracking. "i think i do, but i don’t even know how to deal with even coming to terms that i like him. everything’s so messed up. i kissed him, and now i… i don’t know what to do with all of it."

seokmin looked at you with an almost knowing smile. "sometimes, things don’t have to be figured out all at once. it’s okay to just… see what happens. go to him and talk. take it one step at a time."

seungkwan nodded eagerly, as if the suggestion had finally gotten through to you. "exactly. just go. trust me, you’re both miserable. just fix it."

the decision was made. somehow, someway, you had to go to him. you didn’t know what you were going to say, or how you were going to fix everything that had gone wrong, but you knew you had to try. the thought of never knowing how he felt, or whether you had a chance, was unbearable.

it had been days since you last saw him. days since everything had spiraled. and now here you were, on the verge of either fixing things or making them worse. you stood frozen, unsure of what to do. your hands trembled slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely out of control.

you knocked softly, but the sound felt too loud in the quiet hallway. a few moments later, you heard the shuffle of footsteps from the other side, and your heart skipped a beat.

the door swung open, and seungcheol stood there, looking absolutely stunned to see you standing there. his eyes widened in confusion, and for a brief second, you both just stared at each other in silence.

he seemed to take a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "you… you’re here," he said quietly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. "are you… okay?"

you didn’t know how to respond. you wanted to say so many things, but words felt like too much. you stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to form a coherent sentence. the silence stretched, and then he spoke again, his voice breaking the tension.

"come in," he said softly, stepping aside to let you in, but you didn’t move. "did i… did i do something wrong? if i upset you, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. i really didn’t." his voice was strained, as if he was holding back something. "i know we agreed on the whole fake dating thing for just 1 night, and maybe i crossed a line. but i didn’t mean to. i didn’t mean to make things complicated. I.. I didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.”

he sounded so genuinely sorry, and that was the moment it hit you—seungcheol was just as lost as you were.

you swallowed, forcing yourself to step over the threshold. you walked inside, every part of you feeling as though you were making a decision you couldn’t take back. the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do or say next.

he gestured toward the couch, but neither of you sat. there was a tension hanging between you two, something unsaid but felt in the air. you stayed there, frozen, trying to process your thoughts while he watched you, waiting for something.

he cleared his throat, his voice quieter now. "come sit, please," he said. "talk to me, please. is it something i did? i… i can't fix it if i dont know what i did wrong."

you shook your head slowly, still unable to find your words. you felt like a mess, and you could tell by his expression that he felt the same. the weight of everything that had happened—the kiss, the awkward distance between you two after—was hanging over you both.

finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "it’s not your fault."

"what do you mean?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, a mix of hope and worry in his gaze. "what’s not my fault?"

"i kissed you," you muttered, the words coming out rushed, almost in a panic. "it was me. i shouldn’t have done it. and i’m sorry."

he seemed taken aback, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "but… why? why did you kiss me?”

you bit your lip, looking down at the floor, avoiding his eyes for a moment. "i don’t know why," you admitted, the confession escaping before you could stop it. "i wasn't thinking…i just… i was jealous. i saw hanna with you, and i couldn’t stand it. i… i kissed you because of that, but now, i’m not sure if it was jealousy or because i like you."

seungcheol’s face softened, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sense of it. "you were jealous?" his voice was barely audible, as if the question itself was too much to bear. his eyes were glossy, and his hands trembled slightly at his sides. he took a step closer, his voice breaking as he spoke. "you… you like me?"

you took in a deep breath, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "i think so, i don’t know..I'm not sure but i don’t want to lose you over a stupid kiss."

seungcheol exhaled shakily as his heart falters to the pit of his stomach. he felt a mixture of anger, bitterness and heartbreak flare in his chest, his fingers threading through his hair as he took a moment to gather himself. "a stupid kiss," he repeated, “you dont know if you like me?” and there was a bitterness to his voice that made your chest tighten. he looked at you, his eyes shining with something raw, something that made your heart splinter.

"it's not just a stupid kiss to me," he whispered, and your breath caught. "do you know how long i’ve been in love with you? do you have any idea how many times i’ve tried to hold back these feelings because i was terrified you wouldn’t feel the same?"

your eyes widened, your knees nearly giving out at his words. "you… you're in love with me?" you whispered, barely able to believe it.

he let out a bitter laugh, the sound cracking in the air between you. "yeah," he said, his voice breaking on the word. "i’m in love with you. it’s been hell, watching you, waiting for the right moment, praying that maybe, one day, you'd feel the same. and then you kissed me, and god, for a second, i thought it was real. i thought maybe you felt it too."

your hands shook as you tried to process his confession, the weight of his words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless. "cheol…" you started, but he held up a hand, his gaze turning away from you.

"don't," he whispered, pain etched in every line of his face. "if you're not sure, if you don't know what you want, please… don't say anything. because this? this hurts too much."

your chest ached, your heart breaking at the sight of him, of the way he was barely holding himself together. "i’m sorry," you choked out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. "i didn��t know. i never realized—"

"that’s the thing," he interrupted, his voice strained. "i've always been here, and you never realized." he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back his own tears. "i can’t… i can’t keep doing this if you don't feel the same,”

seungcheol softens as he took in a deep breath, “I can accept, no–I can understand if you don’t love me back,” he says, his voice breaking, “but i need you to at least be sure you like me. if you can’t even be sure you like me, then i don’t think i can do this.” his hands curl into fists on his knees, the weight of his words pressing into the air between you.

the tears come without warning, spilling down your cheeks as everything you’ve been holding back crashes over you. “cheol,” you begin to confess, voice trembling, “i was in love with you four years ago. back then, before everything. before my ex.” your confession hangs heavy, and you can see the shock and pain in his eyes.

“four years ago?” he chokes out. he’s crying too, his tears slipping silently down his face. “why didn’t you tell me?”

you wipe at your face, trying to catch your breath. “because i thought it was over. i thought my feelings had become platonic, that they’d evolved into this safe, distant affection. but seeing you... seeing hanna flirt with you... it hurt. it hurt because i realized i never really let you go. i still love you, cheol. and it’s not just this soft, easy love. it’s the kind that makes me want you even when it hurts.”

his sob catches in his throat, and he reaches for you, his hands trembling. “i’ve loved you for so long,” he confesses, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “i tried to hide it. i tried to hold it back, but i couldn’t. you’ve always been the one, even when i knew i shouldn’t feel that way.”

the two of you sit there, crying together, the years of longing, misunderstandings, and suppressed emotions finally crashing down. he cups your face, thumb brushing away your tears. “so now what?” you ask, voice small and broken.

seungcheol pulls back slightly, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes, but there's something vulnerable there too. he smiles as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek with his thumb. "now... now i ask you out on a date," he says, his voice softer, but his tone filled with so much emotion. “but—” he pauses, his smile fading slowly as his gaze turns serious now, “i’ll give you…five dates.”

“what? what do you mean?” your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

seungcheol's smile returns as he takes in your pouty face before clearing his throat, “i'll let you decide if you still want me after that. no pressure. in case you change your mind.” his hand goes to reach for a stray hair near your cheek and tucks it behind your ear as he gives you a soft smile, still holding a certain sadness and uncertainty to it.

you smile softly, shaking your head. “i don’t need five dates to know my answer, cheol. i'm not changing my mind.” bold adrenaline suddenly pumps through your blood, and you hastily pull seungcheol closer to you in a quick motion, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and then you place a quick kiss on his lips. it's nothing romantic by any means, neither was it movie-scene-worthy. it's nothing like that, but it is more than enough to soothe your soaring heart, and it's definitely more than enough to send your message across to seungcheol.

seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise as you pull away. "you’re…sure.” this time, it wasn't a question.

"i'm sure," you repeat anyway for him, stepping into his arms as your heart flutters at the feeling of him finally pulling you in, his embrace as warm as you'd imagined.

his arms wrapping around you with a warmth and desperation that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like everything you've both been holding back for so long is coming unraveled, like this embrace is the start of something fragile but real. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and you feel his breath, heavy and uneven, as he holds on like he's afraid to let go.

"i've waited so long to hear you say that," he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin. His words are shaky, the tremble betraying the vulnerability he’s still trying to hide. "i’ve wanted this for so long, but i never imagined it would feel this terrifying."

your hand finds his back, holding him just as tightly. "it’s terrifying for me too," you admit softly, your voice trembling. "but... i’m tired of being afraid.”

he pulls back slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his eyes search your face. “let’s give this a real chance, even if it scares us. even if it’s hard." he whispers, a hint of a smile breaking through the sorrow that had clouded his expression.

you nod, your eyes locked with his. "i want to," you say, feeling a fragile hope bloom in your chest. "i want us."

a soft, relieved laugh escapes his lips, and he pulls you into a real kiss this time—gentle, slow, and full of everything unspoken. It’s not perfect, but it feels like a promise, like a beginning you both desperately needed. you lose yourself in the moment, your heart pounding as the weight of everything finally starts to lift.

when you both pull away, breathless but smiling, seungcheol rests his forehead against yours. "so, about those five dates, even though you say you dont need them," he teases, his voice a little lighter now, a spark of his usual playful demeanor coming back. "should we count this one, or start fresh?"

you laugh, the sound bringing color back into the space between you. "maybe we should count this one," you say, your heart feeling impossibly full. "but only if it means you have to try extra hard to make the next four unforgettable."

his smile widens, the warmth in his eyes chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt. "deal," he says, his hands still resting on your waist. "i’ll make every single one worth remembering, just you wait."

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cardigan-ns · 1 month ago

Text

BATHE ME CLEAN

Father Charlie Mayhew x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY - You came to him about your awful home life, how badly your parents and sibling treat you. He sees this as discrimination on him, and takes care of it for you. But you’re too vulnerable to notice his sickening ways.

WARNINGS - abusive parents, murder, blasphemy, father Charlie being unhinged as hell.

NOTE - Listened to a but-load of Ethel cain while writing this - “Family Tree” to be specific.

Father Mayhew’s eyes weakened as you sat there vulnerable and ripped open beside him, it was very late, so late that nobody was there, the sky had gone pitch black and there was nothing outside but the banshees and the looming creatures in the forests. You had on a pale pink dress and red heels, as if you’d just slipped them on and ran down the cobblestones to speak to him. And here he sat with you on the pew, watching you pour your innermost to him.

A sniffle came from your nose and your eyes faltered from the alter to his red boots, to your red shoes. The taint of the red carpet, as if you were drowning in a haunting memory you cannot let go of. “How long has this been going on for?” Father Mayhew swore to keep his anger in check as you, a beautiful girl, wept infront of him about how your father had hurt you, and your mother added salt to the wound by throwing your psychology books in the river behind your house. Your mother called it demons work, how you were figuring out the mind of the insane and sinned. Father Mayhew always credited you on it, when you’d come to him with awards and test scores you acccomplished, after every Tuesday mass. When he found out your mother shamed your academic passion, a wave of impurity took over him, he wanted to hurt her, so very badly.

“Since I was a little girl, maybe 5.” You breathed out as if that’s all you’ve ever known. Father Mayhew closed his eyes in pain at how your father had always hit you. He was a stern and troubling man, Charlie always clocked that everytime he walked through those wooden doors. But he was a good actor and he always played the role of the proud father who funds her education and always puts a smile on her face. “And yet you cannot escape them in college?” You shook your head at his question, your parents, for the sake of convenience and so they wouldn’t murder eachother while you went to a different state for university, forced you to pick a place closest to home, 5 minutes walk away. You couldn’t breathe with how trapped you felt.

“You aren’t going home tonight.” He was stern but soft with his eyes and the way his hand touched your knee, you slowly gazed to your side to see his somber tone, how he was adamant you don’t return home, a dead-of-night runaway. “Where will I go? I haven’t exactly got a good relationship with my older sibling.” Father Mayhew clocked your brother was a deadbeat, had a child young, and “supposedly” killed his girlfriend. You mentally disowned him, yet your parents praised him to the nines.

“Stay here, at the church, with me.” After every passing syllable his charm worked on you like a touch of an all powerful God. You were too struggled to think about the underlying connotations to his invitation. You just needed freedom. “Is that allowed?” His firm hand squeezed your knee, giving you a rush, and giving him the possession he needed to have you right where he wanted you. “Nobody will have to know.” His evil lips curled into something sinister, his eyes dark with sinful thoughts. “Plus I could use a little helper around the church. The nuns are on an exhibition in Rome, leaving me to my own devices.” He was convincing, you wet your bottom lip as it had gone dry from the crying, and you nodded, another small tear couldn’t help but fall. “Thank you.” You mumbled.

Father mayhews eyes became caring and wholesome once more as his thumb left your knee and reached up to your eye to wipe the stray tear away. “Hush. no time for tears. You’re in safe hands now.” His voice was husky as he whispered lowly, words barely audible by how nurturing he was being. You were so painfully wrapped around his finger, painted in his charm. You’d run to a werewolf down a darkened alley if it walked to you slow enough, ready to tear you apart limb from limb as you mindlessly apologise for being so easy to kill.

“I want you to go home and pack a bag. Silently, do not be seen or heard, are you listening?” The thumb that was wiping your face, now cupping your cheek, he felt protective over you, even though he was only a few years older, how dare your family hurt such a sweet and loving girl, all you ever wanted was to understand what made them the way that they are, and now you’re left in shambles under his touch. “I’ll be right back.” You shakily do what he tells you and you touch the hand on your cheek that heals you piece by piece. Your mind wasn’t even going to how touchy he was, just that a noble man like himself was seeing you truly without the mask on.

He watched you stand now, his eyes pained to watch you go, he knows you live walking distance away, you’ll be back quick enough but he can’t stand the thought of watching you walk so openly in the pitch black, any psycho could come and swoop you away from him, and the thought of never seeing you again brought a great darkened root pain to him. “Watch where you’re going now, my dear.” He stood and opened his arms for you to feel his full embrace, his big arms clothed you, capturing you in his sanctity. “I’ll be here waiting.” He kissed the top of your head and rubbed your shoulder for you to go.

While you made your secret venture back home, Charlie walked into his office, opened the wooden cabinet and opened a wooden box at the base of it. “The sinners of the world will feel the sickening vengeance of my wrath, as I heal the do-gooders of their demons.” He muttered to himself as he beheld the large blade he kept for emergencies, untouched, except for when it needed some care after sitting in a box for so long. He was going to christen this knife with the blood of the damned. All for his sweet angel.

As he thought out a plan he paced around the room, practicing the ways in which he was going to perform his slaughter. He himself was damned, but he would never hurt you the way your parents do. The way your brother’s envy masks the true beauty of your soul. He needed you to be loved, and he’d done that silently for the past year. He muttered verses to himself to delude himself he was the saint. Throughout his planning you’d come back, and you knocked on his office door, he quickly placed the knife back in its box and shut the cabinet just in time for you to make your entrance. “I’m back.” He smiled a glowing smile, seeing your back and how it seemed to be filled to the brim with things, he walked towards you. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying, follow me.” He locked arms with you and took your bag off your shoulders, you shouldn’t carry the weight of it, he put it over his own shoulder and walked you to his convent flat, he pat your soft hand as you walked.

He opened the door to his living area and shut the door, he wanted you, in every way, but you needed to settle first, and for that, he’d make you the safest you’d ever felt. You looked around and took in how plain but wonderful it looks, he seemed like a total neat freak, nothing was out of place, except the rather strange book choice he had on the coffee table. You shook your head and figured everyone was allowed some guilty pleasure. “It’s wonderful.” You smiled adoringly to the man who gave you a new start, and he gave you a proud huff, “it’s really nothing, if it were up to me, I’d have much more colour.” He clasped his hands together and rocked back and forth a little, “shall we get you to bed?” Your eyes perked up at the thought of slumber, and you nodded with a hum.

As you followed him down the short narrow hallway, you noticed this area was quite empty, you thought a convent would look bigger. But this wasn’t the convent, this was his quarter, but how were you to know the difference. “There’s only one bedroom, I hope you don’t mind.” Your brain spaced at his words, why on earth would he offer you to stay if he only had one bed. But his eyes were so inviting and innocent that they trapped you. “That’s okay. Where will I sleep though?” You figured he had a couch in the room. “Beside me, of course, I’m not going to banish you to the floor, don’t be silly.” He laughed a little to himself as he opened the door, your eyes landed on the bare room, white bedsheets, with a cross above the bed. You yawned at the sight of the bed, and Father Mayhews eyes graced your tired expression, he had such a soft spot for you it was making him weak. “Go lay down, my dear.” You ushered to the bed, and you obliged.

As your back hit the bed you closed your eyes, as heavy as they felt you opened them once more to see Father Mayhew at the end of the bed. His hands reached towards your heels and he slowly slipped the red heels off of you, patting your ankles when he took each shoe off. “Sit yourself up a second.” He spoke and you listened, back against the headboard as she pulled the duvet back and placed it over your body, almost poetically. His hands then touched your legs over the blanket. “Now rest, dear. I’ll come to bed in a while, I just have a few things I need to take care of.” His grin made you believe he was up to holy things, priest activities, like blessing the church for another safe night. But “take care of things” could also mean something that he was actually going to do, murder your family.

“Goodnight, Father.” You mumbled as he blew out the candle that was illuminating your sweet face. “Goodnight, may the angels rest your weary head.” He spoke as he kissed atop your head, and left you alone.

You heard a loud crash and bang that shocked you awake, it was coming from the living area of Father Mayhews quarter, you rubbed your forehead as you sat up, you didn’t know what time it was but that it was still awfully dark in your room. “Father?” You whispered a little scared, the noise was terrifying. Charlie threw his head back as he stumbled in and hearing your call made him curse to himself. “Fuck, I woke her up.” He thought.

“It’s just me, angel.” He called out from the living room, he decided he must come in and soothe your fears. He opened your bedroom door and his silhouette lingered at the door, he wasn’t dressed how he usually was, nor in pyjamas. He was in dark leather trousers, a black shirt, and something over his head which looked lack a cloth mask, but it was pulled up to his hair, a few stray strands peeking out messily. “You gave me a scare.” You mumbled from the bed, now sat up, he only tilted his head and smiled, flicking a miraculous medal in his hand, he shoved it in his pocket and took brisk steps to your aid, his firm hand touching your arm, the light of the open door brightening your face. “It’s safe now. You’re safe now.” He mumbled to you, as if assuring himself what happened in your childhood home was right and just, and you were none the wiser and would continue to be.

The more you looked at his darkened features you noticed a small speckle of blood on his nose, you reached your hand up and wiped it away, his eyes gazed at your touch and his mouth parted slightly, feeling dirty and guilty, having a touch so pure on his disheveled core, made him sick. But also gave him the impression god forgave him, by how welcoming your touch was. He then gained up the force to push your hands down to either side of your head, your eyes felt under watch, and trapped. “Father?” You questioned what he was doing, and his eyes lingered on yours for a little too long. He wanted you, that wasn’t unclear, but he’s drowning in guilt, having you after he’s sent your parents to hell…that’d be one hell of payback for them, it’d fill him with an ungodly amount of ego. But you looked so concerned for him, and then you uttered words he knew he couldn’t dampen. “Come lay down. You’re exhausted.” You expected he’d taken a midnight run, and that’s why he was so cold and worked up, the adrenaline was there but not because of good willed exercise. “I am.” His grip loosened on you and he sighed, he ripped the mask from his skull, and kicked his boots off.

“Close your pretty eyes.” He alerted you as he was about to undress. “Can’t have you tainting a priest, now can we?” He huffed a quiet laugh and you rolled over and let him get his sweatpants on. Once he was decent he laid down beside you and facing you, his hand cupping your cheek and your eyes consumed him whole, you felt like you still owed him every ounce of you, and he’d let you. But tonight was about seeking refuge, and you both had what you wanted, you had a safe home and he had someone to protect.

#father charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew x reader #father charlie x reader #charlie mayhew #father mayhew #fx grotesquerie #grotesquerie #nicholas alexander chavez

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moonchild1 · 1 year ago

Text

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)

hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a

↬ DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

block party by @minlucent f s a

↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l

a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg

↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it?

lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l

secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au

i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a

↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you.

fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth

↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller

pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s

↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l

animal by @cutaepatootie f s a

↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST

things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a

↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth

↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a

↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a

↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?

horizon by @/sokooks f s a

↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au

searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a

↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.

twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.

when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a

↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on

better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a

↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him

our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7

↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au

dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a

↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au

together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm

↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au

hot bot by @/httpjeon f s

↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.

stardust by @iamtaekooked f

↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his

serendipity by @rohobi f s a

↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.

chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.

I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a

↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au

sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a

↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin

↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au

sleepwalking by @taexual f s a

↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a

↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury.

OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.

as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a

↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”

hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.

J’aime by @baepop f s a

↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth

↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend

make me forget by @roseannekook f s a

↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.

one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm

↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song

boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a

↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc

the boy who left by @/gujoonim a

↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au

love sewn by @jvnghxope s a

↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

not yet by f s @bratkook f s a

↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.

one shot

blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a

↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au

southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a

↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.

house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a

↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.

enouement by @littlemisskookie s a

↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au

miss taken by @junghelioseok f s

↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l

the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a

↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.

the proposal by @hansolmates f s a

↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l

red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s

↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money.

burning bright by @snackhobi s

↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim

but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a

↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.

the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj

↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need.

illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a

↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.

the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a

↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au

rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a

↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.

lowkey by @joonbird s

↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.

part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a

↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.

sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a

↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'

i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj

↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man.

white lies by @noteguk f s a

↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.

yes coach by @/taleanewastime s

↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.

spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s

↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.

fifth wish by @jiminrings f a

↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.

blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth

↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

5K notes · View notes

fhrlclln · 4 months ago

Note

I’ve been living for the Qimir fanfics. Can you write one where reader and him were lovers in the Jedi together, he thought she died, but actually the Jedi wiped her memory. When he bumps into her again he’s FURIOUS but also just happy that she’s alive and tries to get her memory back. Lots of angst but with a happy ending?👀

and here you stand | qimir

SUMMARY -> a man in your dreams feels like a distant memory you cannot seem to touch upon but when a particular meeting with a man in the streets of olega might be the answer to everything.

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> angst & fluff

WC -> 2.85k

a/n: aNONz i hope this fic is what you requested for!!! i tried my best with the angst 😩🤌

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

the dream always started out softly...

a glimpse of a man with short black hair, dawning a padawan braid, smiling and laughing with you in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant. he’d always kissed you and for a moment in the dream, you could feel his hands gently caress your cheek and see the loving gaze of his eyes on you. but the dream was always somewhat blurry... you can't remember the young man's face but his laughter, his love you feel is everything to you. it was comforting, it felt like home but the moment his laughter ends, the dream did as well.

and you wake up with a longing feeling stuck in your chest.

you'd try to remember your times as a former jedi, a former padawan in your time in coruscant. hoping you could somehow remember the man in your dreams, for it felt it was a distant memory than a dream but it always ended up with no avail. it was painful enough that you missed being back in coruscant and to reoccur those memories again in hopes of remembering who the man in your dreams makes it even more painful.

that's until you had just given up at some point on remembering him.

you now reside in a humble planet called olega. the city was large enough for you to explore it in your first days of living there. you opened up a merchant stall, selling the local fruits and vegetables for consumption. leaving the order was a tough decision the council had made upon you, you were a gifted student, gifted with the force. it was strong within you but alas, you failed, you could not somehow learn to control your own self- your own emotions. you can't remember why back then and it haunts you to this day of your failure as a jedi.

but that didn't matter now.

your quiet life of being a merchant had its perks. you were not bound by an order anymore. there were no more responsibilities and expectations placed upon you. you didn't need to train every single day- but sometimes you missed your training lessons. you did miss your former master and padawans, for they were the second family to you. even if it was told that at that time, familial or romantic feelings were forbidden, you still saw them like that.

granted, it was hard to fall back into the normal routine of an everyday civilian. you had been with the order since you were a child. you still would close off your emotions from time to time with the people you grew to know with in olega, but you got the hang of it eventually in the years of living here. but sometimes you wished to go back to coruscant, hoping if you'd visit the gardens and the great tree, you might remember the man in your dreams.

but here you are, standing behind your stall as you packaged the fresh fruits for a customer. you handed to them with a smile on your face and humbly accepted their credits. you sigh, sitting on your stool as you counted your savings to see if it would cover the rent you have to pay for this month. it was enough, your stall was popular in demand because of how fresh your picks was and you were grateful for that. you stand up again, noticing that you had to close now, seeing that almost all your merchandise was sold.

"closing off early again?" the cheery voice of your fellow merchant quips. you laugh, shrugging as you started packing away.

"i am!" you chuckled, checking if everything is in place before you could leave. you adjusted your satchel as you put on your hood, bidding your fellow merchants a kind goodbye as you went off.

a hot meal would be nice, you think to yourself, before you'd head home. walking through a crowd, you squeeze yourself in as you excused yourself to get by. the heart of the plaza certainly was always full of people at this time. for a moment, a watchful feeling washed over your senses as you look up ahead.

your eyes meet with a man’s. his black hair is slightly disheveled and greasy and the way his eyes were set upon you made you confused for a moment how hard his stare was. you look away, getting out of the crowd, an uneasy feeling settling in your chest as you walk away quickly.

qimir stands still in the middle of the plaza, his heart is thumping loudly against his ribcage. it couldn't be you. he doesn't know if the glimpse of you in the crowd was a mere apparition of the force but the way you looked at him had him thinking otherwise. you disappear from the crowd and he is hot on his feet to catch up to you.

he watches you go into an alley way, he follows in-suit, thinking that you’re trying to escape him. his nostrils flare, his agenda for today to go to the local apothecary is out of his plans as he follows you.

he watched you die.

he was sure of it, that memory of you of pushing him into his own ship whilst you stand guard to help him buy him some time to get out of coruscant never left his mind. it haunted him until he lives and breaths and it enraged him that you foolishly given your life for him to flee before his own former master would have killed him.

you were supposed to be together, right?

he thinks bitterly as he squeezes in the alley way. a lot of questions pop in his mind, were you still with the jedi after all you and him have suffered through because of them? that you willingly stayed? that you faked your own death just to leave him? those thoughts made him feel betrayed. you were his light when he was in the darkness. you were the one that understood him despite your refusal to let yourself be seduced by the dark path. he understood you as well yet he hoped that you would see truth that what the jedi do is all a lie.

he quickens his steps and your figure is starting to inch closer to him. he immediately reaches out to grab your arm and push you towards the wall making you gasp as you struggled in his tight death grip as he cages you with his whole body before you could defend yourself.

“let go!” you yelled at him as he ignored your angry yelps as you tried to get out of his grip. he merely stares down at you as you looked up at him. he observes, waiting if an emotion of guilt would cross your face… but there was none? only confusion and annoyance were plastered across your face. and he somehow indulges in your close distance, the feeling of you in front him again has him weak. here you are, warm and smelling the same after years since he had fallen into a rabbit hole of revenge and hatred for the jedi that he thought they killed you.

“i said-“ you weakly tried to pry him off you. your heart was beating so loudly, fearing what this unknown man would do to you. you wished for a moment that the force could help you. he was much stronger, you could tell, even if he looked like a twig underneath his robes. “-let go!”

“you… you’re supposed to be dead.” he breaks his silence. your brows raised with confusion. dead? you wonder if this man was crazy for thinking of you like that. not once did you remember angering any person here for this kind of response.

“i’m standing right here, buddy.” you roll your eyes as he lessens his grip on your arm. and here you do stand, qimir thinks. you relax for a bit as the hard stare he gives you softens slightly. something in him tells him that you don’t even recognize him. and that makes him worried.

“do you know me?” he tests his theory, hoping it was not true. you know him, you would never forget about him.

you two were your other halves of each other’s body, soul and mind, never to be separated even if the cosmos were in between you two. you would always find each other in the end. even in death, you were his other soul, the half of his battered and broken heart. he knows you vow the same as he heard those vows underneath the great tree in the gardens of the jedi temple in coruscant.

i will never forget you. as you had said to him when his lips last touch yours before you threw him into his ship, leaving him in agony seeing you turn on your saber before his master slashes you with her saber.

i love you, qimir.

he blinks wetly. there’s a hollow feeling inside his chest when he sees that you don’t genuinely recognize him the slightest bit.

“…no? no, i don’t know you. look, sir, if you have any problem with me or you want money, i have some credits-“

“what i want is for you to tell me the truth.” he cuts you off, wondering if you were lying as he tries to peer into your mind. he feels furious, furious that you are acting like this but the desperation… the desperation of trying to see you at least recognize him is taking over. you feel the hum of the force, so familiar even if it had been years since you trained. but it wasn’t just that, his force felt familiar.

“…you wield the force.” you say as your eyes widened when you feel him try to pry in your mind. an instinct in you erupts as you somehow managed to surprise him by grabbing him by his arm and the collar of his robe then pushed him into the wall that you were pressed against, making the roles reverse. qimir lets you do that as he looks down at you, a sadness in his eyes as he realizes that you don’t remember him.

what happened to you?

“you don’t remember me…” he whispers, defeated. he grips your wrist gently as a congested look of hurt is across his face.

“and you know me?” you ask, somehow feeling like he knows you more intimately than you had expected. confusion is breaking your calm mind, it frightens you that somehow you feel like what he’s saying is so close to the truth but you can’t discern it clearly. you know nothing of him. you let him go and qimir almost wobbled in his knees when your touch is gone.

he nods and your chest suddenly hurts. you back away, frightened and confused, it was overwhelming that you feel for him but don’t remember him. before qimir could utter anything else, you walk away. he watches you go, sensing that something was wrong. something had been wiped away in your mind with the memories of him and he feels lost. the one person that had stayed with him throughout his grievances and frustrations, the one good person he thought dead and the one woman he loved doesn’t remember him.

he’ll have to talk to you again when he wills himself.

・゜゜・．

it had been days since you last saw that strange man and your dreams have been getting even more vivid.

it was scaring you.

remembering the look in his eyes, you saw that he did in fact know you. but you don’t know him. sometimes when you wake up now after dreaming of that young man in your dreams, it felt like something in you was lost. and that your mind was actively trying to remember, trying to hold on what was missing but it always fails. and it leaves you feeling so lost and confused.

you sit by your bed now. you haven’t started your day like the usual. you felt sick, nauseous and incredibly exhausted of trying to will yourself to remember that strange man. his touch felt familiar when you remember it, his voice was somehow a comfort and his gaze… you know you would be in trance with those dark eyes of his that spoke of tenderness.

your eyes felt heavy as the sun peaks through the blinds of your windows. you sigh, weakly trying to get up. you felt you were about to fall back onto your bed again until a knock on your door surprises you. you freeze, the knocks then grew more louder and you sighed, thinking it was your landlord as you get up, wrapping your cloak around you.

you push the red button on the control panel as the sound of your door swiftly opening doesn’t ready you for him to be standing by your doorstep. you freeze, seeing that he’s dressed in another way-too-huge robes on him. he looks at you for a moment, taking in your face of confusion.

“i just want to talk.” he pleads and you stay frozen in your spot for a moment, wondering if you want to talk with him. but deep inside, your heart is telling you yes as it beats loudly.

“okay.” you say quietly as you let him in. qimir relaxes as you close the door once he crosses the threshold and he stands inside your small apartment.

“how long have you been living here?” he asks, looking around the place. “in olega… i mean.”

“seven… eight years, i think?” you answer as best as you can. “i stayed in coruscant for a couple of months before moving here.”

“why?” he asks further, confused.

“i left the jedi… i used to be a jedi.” you shrug. “it was the council’s decision why i couldn’t continue my training.”

“because?”

“…i- because they said i didn’t control my self, my emotions.” you sighed, not liking that you were telling this stranger of your failure. a stranger that you somehow know. you remind yourself.

“and you’re sure the council had told you that was their true reasons for letting you go?” he faces you, understanding bit by bit what happened to you. "they lied."

“why do you ask me? are you a jedi or was- as well?” you ask him now.

“i was.” he nods bitterly.

you blink. “then how do you know me?”

“we were…” he starts, finding his words to try and let this information on you easily. your memories were wiped as far as he could tell. he thinks that vernestra orchestrated to do this to you when they had disarmed you at some point after he had escaped. for it was to conceal those outside the jedi order of his existence and that it may put them in a political disaster. he scoffs at that in his mind. he wills himself not to go to the local jedi temple and slaughter master torbin himself for this, out of spite he’ll kill them all in there.

“you and i, we shared a bond.” he softly says as he nears you and you let him. “a bond that the order told us that it was forbidden.”

you blink, understanding what he meant. did the jedi lied to you? you think, feeling betrayed by the order that you had respected could do this to you. his soft gaze felt familiar and you reel in to his gentle voice. qimir’s chest filled with hope seeing you slowly start to understand him even though you still don’t know him.

“i am yours.” he takes your hand to his, placing it above his chest. “and you are mine.”

“and together…” those words leave your lips without even you registering it for a moment as he presses his forehead against yours. you shudder, your eyes welling up with tears, feeling overwhelmed as this felt like the scene in your dreams. this man was the young man in your dreams. you realized, why you somehow feel like you know him.

vows in the gardens, whispering it underneath the great tree. two padawans’ hearts beating with one another and the sweet song of love fills their chests as they become one. bound to eternity forever.

“we are bound to each other forever.” he finishes as he wipes the tears streaming down your face.

“i want to remember you…” you sobbed, your own chest hurting for not remembering him. this man that you had just met days ago but felt like you’ve known him forever. qimir smiles sadly as he pulls you into his arms. you cried on his shoulder, loving the way his arms felt around you.

you don’t even know his name and it breaks your heart again.

“i’ll help you remember. we found each other again.” he vows and promises he’ll make you remember. his own eyes wetting with his tears as he nuzzles his face on your soft hair and he whispers. “i promise.”

but all that matters now is that you are with him at last.

#qimir x reader #qimir #the stranger x reader #the stranger #manny jacinto #the acolyte #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

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sleepydeprived · 14 days ago

Text

A Chance for Redemption

—A mysterious high school student appears out of the blue, bearing the face of the late Martha Wayne and puzzling even Gotham's greatest detectives.

[chapter 3]

Mama I’m Chasing A Ghost.

| Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Reader

The floor-to-ceiling windows of my bedroom looked out onto the manicured gardens of the estate, and in the distance, was a view of Gotham that never seemed to change.

The same scenery, the same routine.

The butlers, the maids, the drivers who ferried me from one lavish location to another.

Every day was like the last, but with one major exception;

Gotham Academy

For the first time in my life, I had been thrust into a world that wasn’t mine. My mother had insisted I’d go, telling me it was for my own good. I was homeschooled my entire life, my education confined to private tutors and digital classes.

That is.. until my mother moved me to a prestigious school a few months ago. I don’t know what changed her mind. She was always so hellbent on keeping my life private. Her sweet little girl that only she knew about.

But now here I am attending a school that is closely watched by weird, content-hungry journalists and creepy paparazzis hoping to catch a photograph of children with high titles.

Nevertheless, I felt like an outsider. A puzzle that didn’t quite fit. I was the new kid—the girl who came out of nowhere.

But being an outsider didn’t automatically mean loner.

My presence didn’t go unnoticed.

I was different. People knew it, felt it, and stared. Maybe it was the fact that I came from a family—a clan—that held such an influence over Gotham’s elites. I was basically one relative away from a famous celebrity or a corrupt politician.

But, of course, there was also the resemblance to Martha Wayne.

It was a ghost of a resemblance, really, but it haunted me all the same. From the first day I stepped onto campus, I heard the whispers;

She looks like Martha Wayne.

The wife of Thomas Wayne?

She could be her daughter...

Or granddaughter.

It had started out as idle speculation, but as the days passed, the gossip only grew.

People stared, talked behind my back, and pointed at me when they thought I wasn’t looking. They didn't know me, but they had already formed an opinion. The mystery girl. The girl who had somehow, inexplicably, appeared out of nowhere. The girl who had the same smile, the same eyes, the same air of dignity and grace as Gotham’s most beloved figure. The figure whose tragic death had left an indelible mark on the city.

I had never cared for the attention. In fact, I hated it. I’m not interested in being some object of fascination, and that’s just how I was raised. I’m not Martha Wayne nor am I related to her—or at least, that’s what I’ve been told. The more people asked, the more I pushed that idea away. But the whispers were constant.

It made me think. A lot. So much more than what I preferred.

And suddenly, the buried thoughts from childhood of who and where my biological father was came rushing back.

Ever since I was a child, I had learned to bury my feelings—bury the questions about my father, and why my mother wouldn’t speak of him. There had been one conversation about it, years ago when my mother still had the time to let me in her study.

"Your father is not someone you need to concern yourself with," mother had said, her voice cold and stern. "Do not ask about him. Do not seek him. He is not a part of your life. Understand?"

And now, in the halls of Gotham Academy, that memory itched at me, more often than ever before. The bell rang, signaling the end of another school day, but I didn’t hurry to leave. I stood at my locker, staring at my reflection in the shiny surface of the metal.

Do I look like her?

————————

taglist:

@leeleecats @mariadvorak @deans-spinster-witch @rainlovewrites @xoacesgf @whiteoakoak @uknowimdumb @otterluver05

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gothicgaycowboy · 2 months ago

Text

𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.1k

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you make Aemond’s longtime librarian fantasy come to life.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 18+ no minors, fem dom, sub aemond, a cock ring, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, role play (kinda), unprotected sex, creampie, no use of y/n, edging (m receiving), both reader and aemond are little losers, established relationship, pet names, embarrassing family dinner conversations, a cameo from aemond’s lesbian moms and aegon.

𝙖/𝙣: this was originally going to be the beginning of my kinktober but I didn’t even get a chance to write out any of my other ideas in time. also big thank you to this anon who inspired this fic. hope you enjoy 💋

Up until now you thought you and your boyfriend had no secrets between you, but as it turns out you were wrong.

It started a week ago, you and Aemond drove up the countryside for a weekend to visit his family for Alicent’s birthday. Everyone tried their best to make it up there for big celebrations.

After three years together you feel like a member of the family yourself, Alicent and Rhaenyra even refer to you as their second daughter. You feel more at home with them than you do with your own family — and more importantly you felt like they couldn’t shock you anymore. That lasted until dinner.

Aegon and Aemond had gotten into a tiff about something juvenile that you can’t even remember anymore. Words tossed back and forth at one another from across the table like a tennis match. Rhaenyra was about to interject when Aegon blurted out: “Did you ever tell your sweetheart about what you did with my rag mag?”

Now that caught your attention.

Aemond’s face became beet red. His eyes practically bulged out of his skull in fear. Aegon smiled cockily at his brother’s expression, poking a forkful of their mothers dinner into his mouth.

Alicent and Rhaenyra tried to object to this conversation as soon as the word ‘rag mag’ was tossed out, but were cut short by your boyfriend.

“You wouldn’t.” It was clear Aemond was attempting to sound intimidating when it was obvious to everyone else he was fearing for his life.

“Oh, but I really would.” You vaguely remember overhearing Rhaenyra warn Alicent to cover her ears. Aegon turned his full attention to you, his eyes locked with yours. “When your precious boyfriend was still shorter than me he snuck into my room, snooped through my collection, and ripped out the naughty librarian spread all for himself.”

For the first time since you had met him Aemond became shy. You didn’t quite understand why exactly. Your boyfriend was no saint when it came to sex. He was the one who suggested most of your perverted ventures thus far, so why had he never told you this story himself?

After the table was cleared and conversation changed Aemond popped outside to take a quick smoke break — the perfect opportunity for you to interrogate Aegon a little more. You slid beside him as he washed that night's dishes like the good little son he can be occasionally.

“What was all that about?”

He glanced up at you briefly from the task in front of him. “What was all what about?”

“You know…” you suddenly realised how humiliating it was to talk about sex related topics with your boyfriend's brother. “The magazine drama?”

A knowing smirk crossed the Targaryen’s lips. “Ah, you want to know why Aemond threw such a fit about his little secret being outed.” He placed a white salad bowl onto the drying rack before facing you. “Well there are a few theories I have about it — first and most simple of all: maybe he was just embarrassed to have his middle school perversions exposed to our parents. I’m not too convinced by that one though given the simple fact that you two have been fucking at practically every family event you have been invited to thus far.”

It was then your turn for your cheeks to heat up with embarrassment, the memory of being caught half naked by Rhaenyra in the shoe closet still haunts you.

“So that leads me to my second theory: he’s ashamed of you knowing about his librarian fetish.”

Your brows pinched together quizzically. “But that doesn’t make any sense, we’ve done way crazier things together than a little kinky roleplay.”

Aegon closed his eyes and let out a long exhale like he was about to be sick. “I can’t express to you how much I didn’t want to know that.” You smiled at him apologetically letting out a timid ‘sorry’.

The purple eyed boy rubbed at his temples before opening his eyes again. “Okay, I’m probably gonna throw up later and really regret asking you this but: have you ever been in charge? Ya know, taken on the reins while you two are…” He held his hand over his stomach dramatically. “Having sex?”

your gaze remained on the clean kitchen floor as you answered his question. “No…”

“Well there you go, now if you’ll excuse me I need to go drink this conversation from my memory.”

Since that night you have been on a mission: make Aemond’s fantasy come to life.

It started like all good missions did — with a bit of thorough research of course. Aemond is a stickler for details and you needed all of them if you were going to pull this off successfully. The magazine from all the detail you managed to pull out of poor Aegon was a Hustler and based on the years Aemond would have been in middle school you managed to comb through every edition of Hustler during that time until you found it: the librarian spread.

This took you to the next step in your plan: the outfit. There wasn’t really much to it, obviously most of it was pulled off the models body in favour of showing off what was underneath, but you focused on what remained. Petite framed glasses, a white button up (tossed aside on the desk she sat on but you figured she was probably wearing it at some point in time), black pencil skirt, stockings, garter belt, and most importantly no panties.

All of this planning and waiting had finally led up to today. You have a day off to get your shit in order and Aemond’s shift ends early. You are quite proud of yourself honestly. Who knew being a research nerd could come in handy in the bedroom?

Now it was just time to see if Aemond appreciates it as much as you do.

From your spot in the kitchen you hear your boyfriend's keys enter the lock to your apartment – your cue to bolt into the bedroom. Inside the bedroom your heart races, nerves suddenly getting the best of you. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thinks you’re trying to belittle him? What if he thinks you look stupid?

“Baby?” Aemond calls from inside the main hallway.

“In the bedroom!” Well there was no going back now. Fuck it. You press play on the playlist you curated and pose yourself sitting on top of Aemond’s desk, just like the picture.

The door creaks open, revealing the white haired man to you. For a second he doesn’t look up, good eye still locked onto his phone. “What’s with the mu–” His eye meets with yours and stops him in his tracks. The bag he is carrying falls off his shoulder. The way he blushed at the birthday dinner has nothing on the state of his face now.

A few long moments pass by and the two of you remain perfectly still. It makes the knot in your stomach worse. “Please say something.” You beg as Aemond remains gobsmacked.

“You– how did – wh – you look–” He babbles like a small child.

“Please make it intelligible.” you try to lighten the mood as your hands play with each other anxiously.

It seems to shake Aemond out of his idiotict trance. “You look like the librarian from my magazine.”

“I do.” You change your tone to sound calm and collected while feeling like you’re about to explode inside.

“Why?”

“I thought you might appreciate it if I initiated something for once.”

Aemond soaks in the vision before him giving you a swift up and down glance. The pit continues growing in you but you refuse to let it show. “Do you?” You ask, impersonating all those sexually confident people you’ve seen in movies.

“I do.” Thank fuck.

Aemond rips the jacket from off his shoulders, practically running across the bedroom to reach you. He pulls you up off the desk but before he has the chance to kiss you you put a stop to him. Both hands push his face away but remain holding it so he’s forced to look at you. “Not so fast there mister.”

His face is priceless, a perfect mixture of confusion and desperation. “From now on I’m in charge, alright? You are going to lay there like the good boy I know you can be, while the sweet little librarian takes good care of you, understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” His pupil dilates so wide you can hardly see the usual violet colour of his iris.

“Yes you understand who?”

A surprise smirk graces your boyfriend's beautiful face. “Yes, I understand…ma’am.”

“Good, now take off your clothes and get on the bed.” In a flash Aemond’s clothes came flying off you like you have never seen before. You knew this would get him worked up but you did not expect him to be this into it.

As the Targaryen’s boxers hit the floor and he hits the plush mattress you pull open a bag holding your secret weapon for the night. With the ‘weapon’ hiding behind your back you move up the bed straddling his muscular thigh, sitting your bare cunt directly on his skin. His already hard cock twitches with excitement. “Fuck me, are you not wearing any–?”

“No.” you say plainly, like you did this everyday. “Now I’ve got a little something special for you before I completely blow your mind.”

“I really don’t see this getting better than it is but if you say so,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I trust you.”

From behind you you reveal it: a black rubber cock ring. “I wanna see you squirm.”

Aemond’s silver-blonde locks splay out onto the pillows as he plops his head back onto the pillows. “You are trying to kill me, woman.” He groans.

“Oh you love it.” With that you wrap your manicured hand around his cock, stretching the black rubber around the base.Your boyfriend jumps slightly at the contact. “How’s it feel?”

“Wonderful, now can we get on with the main event, please?”

“Don’t forget baby, you’re not the one calling the shots tonight. Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you.”

“Always.” He smiles. You can’t help yourself against his charms, flopping onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips. He wastes no time reciprocating it, taking the kiss from zero to a hundred faster than you can snap your fingers. His tongue slithering its way into your mouth. Your moans vibrated against his lips. Aemond was definitely the best kisser out of all the guys you had been with.

You reach your right hand up pushing it between the two of you, separating your lips. Aemond is clearly about to protest as you cut him off. “Spit.” No bullshit, just straight to the point. Based on the focused expression on his face the dots are taking their sweet time to connect in his pretty little head. Then it clicks and Aemond looks like a kid in a candy shop. He leans over your palm, saliva dripping down into your hand.

As the spit sinks across your palm you reach down to rub the wetness around his throbbing cock, stroking him up and down painfully slowly. Your other hand makes its way to his heavy balls, massaging them delicately in between your fingers.

You always loved playing with Aemond’s cock, but you were never allowed to take your time with it. It’s the one thing you despise about your boyfriend constantly being the one in charge. This was your time to truly tease him like he had been teasing you since you got together.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You eye him over the glasses perched on your nose.

“Fuck yes!” Aemond yelps with pure euphoria.

“You kiss your mothers with that mouth?” You continue your teasing, the sound of the shucking filling the bedroom.

“No but I really wanna kiss you again — ma’am.” You appreciate that even though he was struggling through it he still uses your proper title.

“Come here baby.” Like a man starved Aemond pushes himself up to meet your lips once more. Now was your chance. With Aemond distracted by the kiss you slowly pull away your hand from his sack to grab the remote for the cock ring off the dresser. Time to hope he enjoys this little extra surprise.

Bzzz…

Aemonds hips slam up into your fist in shock. “Jesus- fuck!”

“Now you know how I feel, huh?” You say recalling all the times that the blonde had used your vibrators on you.

The vibrations make his rod jump, shaking so fast your eyes can’t even comprehend its moving at all. God it’s hot. It had become far too normal for Aemond to watch you shake and your eyes roll back into your head with ecstasy but never you with him. It makes you feel powerful.

“F-feels so fucking good—” Aemond struggles to be coherent through the throws of pleasure.

Your hands pick up the pace, tightening your grip around him. His eyes are becoming more and more glassy as the moments pass by. Settling down till your stomach touches your knees, skirt (barely) coved ass poking out to the air. You kiss your way down his chest, leaving lipstick marks as you go until you reach the base of his vibrating cock.

Your mind swarms with ideas of how you can possibly torture him, but you decide against anymore prolonged suffering because of how desperately you need him in your mouth. You lick your way up to his leaking tip, keeping eye contact the entire time.

You run your hands over the sides of his hips as you suck the tip into your mouth. Preparing yourself with a deep breath through your nose, you dive down, deepthroating the rest of him into your throat. The tip of your nose touched the smooth base of his pubic bone. He always filled your holes so perfectly.

The sounds of your throat bobbing over him mixed with muted vibrations and Aemond’s moans make your cunt pulsate. You and Aemond are not new to dirty but something about this type of dirty got you going in a way you have never felt before.

“I’m gonna come—fuck! I’m gonna come down your perfect throat—” That is all you need to hear to pull yourself away from him (as much as you hate to).

Wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth you press the button on the remote of the cock ring, turning the vibrations off. Aemond whines like a scorned child. A sound you're not familiar with from him, but you could picture yourself getting used to.

“Did you really think that I was going to let you come that fast? I need to make you earn it first, baby.”

He looks up at you, begging. “How? Please just tell me how I’ll do anything, I just need to be inside you. I wanna be your good boy.” His voice cracks like he’s on the brink of tears.

“You have to address me properly.”

“Anything for you ma’am.”

“Now, beg.” You tug the base of his cock into your hands, jerking him off like you were in no rush.

“Please…?” His brows knit together like a kicked puppy.

You halt your movements and grip your boyfriend’s length, not enough to actually hurt him, just enough to make Aemond whine once more. “God do you even want me to fuck you? I said beg.” You say while pulling the almost sheer white top from your body, leaving the skirt and stockings in their place though.

“Please fuck ma’am? I promise I’ll be good for you, I need to be inside of you so bad. I love your cunt so much, I need it around me. I need to feel you come on me, please?”

“Aw, look at that, you are my good boy after all.” With that you are fully on top of him. Hands planted onto his firm chest while you lean forward to tug your skirt up, revealing the lack of underwear beneath them. With his eyes thoroughly distracted by your bare cunt you pull his aching tip inside of your soaking wet entrance.

You had sex not two days before now but somehow the stretch of Aemond inside was still a shock to your system. Maybe it’s because you had never had him like this, crying below you like just being inside you was already the greatest pleasure he could experience.

“Jesus—Christ!”

You take your time adjusting to him, gradually sinking lower towards his abdomen. Your clit grazes the black silicone, alerting you that you’ve reached the bottom. Pushing yourself all the way back up to his tip you slam down as you speak. “Did all that begging make your cock harder, Aem? Do you like begging for me?”

“So much…” The words are almost inaudible through his moans.

“You don’t come until I let you, understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

It only eggs you on more. The sound of wet skin smacking and whimpering fill your ears. No thoughts pass through either of your heads.

The rocking of your hips became more frantic, desperate. Your soft wet walls hugging your boyfriend like a vice. Aemond’s reach up into the pillows, gripping so hard they change from pink to white instantly.

Your mask begins to fall at the pleasure building in your core. Legs shaking at either side of Aemond’s hips. Just like that you pull the blonde up from his horizontal position, his grip falling from the pillows. Lips crashing together in a blur as sweat pools down both your backs. “I’m so fucking close, can I come, please?” His begging is muffled against your mouth.

“Soon, I promise. Rub my clit for me baby?” He obeyed immediately. His pointer and index finger caressing against your pulsing clit. “Fuck yes! so good Aem.” Your hands wander to his hair, like you are the master and he’s your little puppet.

You can’t hold back anymore, the sensation of his lips against yours mixed with Aemond’s precise movements against your bud send you hurdling towards your orgasm. “M’coming, come for me aem, do it for me baby—” Aemond follows fast behind you, crying out your name as he reaches his peak. His cock painting your insides with his cum.

You come back down to earth together, a jumble of words spilling from both of your lips: I love you, thank you, so good, kiss me.

You collapse into a puddle on your boyfriend’s sweat soaked chest. His fingers travel through your hair as you both catch your breath. As he tucks the lock behind your ears he finally speaks coherently. “So, are you gonna tell me how you managed to replicate the exact outfit from the original photo I used to wank off to or…?”

You smile, lifting your head to face him and his pink flushed cheeks. “A great magician never reveals their secrets.”

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond fic #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen #mondern!aemond #hotd smut #cjs.fics #cjs.library

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goldfades · 2 months ago

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HAUNTED BY YOU──FATHER MAYHEW (part 2)

part one!!!!

─ summary | father charlie grapples with his intense attraction during the church event. they shared a passionate kiss that reignites their forbidden connection, despite the undeniable chemistry, charlie wrestles with guilt and the reality of their situation, ultimately pulling away as the risk of being caught looms over them. the tension between desire and moral obligation leaves them both longing for more, even if they face the consequences of their actions

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!reader

─ warnings | nsfw under the cut! mdni! oral (f!receiving), p in v, pretty rough but not as nasty as part one, praise (?), pretty soft/vanilla in comparison to part 1

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! (please do btw i'm obsessed w nicholas LMAO). also i feel like there should be a part 3 but i'm not sure where it would go sooo

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

After your encounter with Father Charlie, your world had turned completely upside down.

You no longer wanted to attend seminary, not like you wanted to begin with. It had always been someone else’s dream for you, a path laid out by your parents, by the expectations of the community, by the life you thought you were supposed to live. But now, every time you stepped into the church, all you could think about was him. The way his hands had felt on your skin, the way he had murmured your name with a mixture of reverence and desire. It was as if the weight of everything you had ever known had shifted beneath your feet, leaving you standing on uncertain ground.

It wasn’t just the guilt, though that was there, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. It was the confusion—the way you felt torn between the life you had always been told you should want and the inexplicable pull that had drawn you to him that night. You hadn’t planned for it to happen, hadn’t even fully understood what was happening as it unfolded, but now there was no denying it: something had changed inside of you.

You would be lying if you said that you weren't teasing the poor man, but you never expected it to go that far. His mean words, his rough touch... it was unexpected but welcome.

However, you avoided Charlie in the days that followed. But that didn’t stop the memories from replaying in your mind, unbidden and relentless. The rough sound of his voice, the way his breath had hitched when he looked at you, the feel of his lips against your skin—it haunted you, drawing you back to that night over and over again.

And yet, for all the confusion and turmoil, there was something else, too. A part of you that felt more alive than you ever had before. You couldn’t ignore the thrill of it, the way your heart raced when you thought about him, the way your body responded to even the thought of being near him again.

But what did that mean for your future? Could you go on pretending to follow a path that no longer felt like your own? Could you return to the person you had been before all of this?

You didn’t know.

All you knew was that something had been set in motion, something that couldn’t be undone. And as much as you tried to push it aside, to tell yourself it was just a fleeting moment of weakness, the truth lingered, heavy and undeniable: your encounter with Father Charlie had changed everything.

──

"I've just been worried about her." Your mother sniffled as she glanced up at Father Charlie. Her eyes were watery as your father nodded along, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Charlie did his best not to roll his eyes─he assured them that their daughter missing a few days of Church was nothing to worry about, she was simply exploring and that she'd come back if her heart was in the right place.

He wasn't sure if that was true though, he knew the true reason for your sudden absence—it wasn't that you were losing your faith. It was that you were avoiding him. And in a way, he couldn't blame you. After what had happened between the two of you, things could never be the same.

Charlie shifted uncomfortably in his chair, feeling the weight of your parents' anxious gazes on him. He offered them a reassuring smile, the same gentle, composed expression he had worn so many times before. But beneath the surface, a storm raged inside him.

"I appreciate your concern," he said softly, clasping his hands together. "But give her time. Sometimes a little distance can be healthy. She’ll find her way back, if it’s meant to be."

Your mother dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, her worry evident. "But Father, she's never missed church like this before. She's always been so devoted. I just… I don’t understand what’s changed."

Charlie swallowed, the words catching in his throat as he forced himself to maintain his calm demeanor. He could feel guilt clawing at the edges of his composure, the weight of the secret the two of you now shared hanging over him like a heavy cloud. He had tried to rationalize it, tried to convince himself that it was a moment of weakness, a lapse in judgment that would pass. But the truth was, every time he closed his eyes, he saw you.

"I understand your concern," Charlie continued, his voice softer now, more reflective. "But maybe she just needs some space to reflect on things. Sometimes, when we're too close to something, we can't see it clearly."

Your father sighed, rubbing his temples. "She's been so distant lately. I just don’t know what’s going on in her head anymore."

Charlie nodded sympathetically, though inside, he felt the sting of his own hypocrisy. He had been the one to create that distance. He had crossed a line he never should have, and now both of you were suffering the consequences. The temptation had been too great, the connection too deep to ignore, and now he was left trying to navigate the fallout, unsure of how to reconcile his role as a spiritual leader with the undeniable pull he felt toward you.

"Just give her some time," Charlie said again, though he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince—your parents, or himself. "She’s strong. She’ll come around."

Your mother smiled weakly, though her worry remained evident. "I hope so, Father. I really do."

As they stood to leave, Charlie felt a familiar sense of dread settle in his chest. He bid them goodbye, offering them one last reassurance before they stepped out of the church. But as the door closed behind them, the air in the sanctuary seemed to grow heavier.

Charlie exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as the silence pressed in around him. He had tried to distance himself from you, convinced himself that what had happened was a mistake. But no matter how hard he tried to push it away, the memory of you lingered, seeping into every corner of his mind.

And now, standing alone in the empty church, he found himself wondering if there was any way to make things right again—if there was any way to undo the damage that had been done.

But deep down, he knew the answer.

There was no going back. Not for either of you.

Later that night, Charlie found himself thinking about you once again. Particularly, how you looked that night. On your knees, so eager to please and your doe eyes gazing up at him. He couldn't get that sight out of his mind, no matter how hard he prayed. He clasped his hands together, leaning over the edge of his bed, his head bowed as if in prayer.

But the words weren’t coming—no matter how hard he tried to focus, the familiar rhythm of his nightly prayers refused to take shape. His mind was somewhere else, tangled up in thoughts that shouldn’t be there, lingering on images that made him feel as though he were coming apart at the seams.

He cursed under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut tighter as if that would somehow banish the memory. But the more he fought it, the more vivid it became—your wide, innocent eyes gazing up at him, filled with a mix of longing and devotion that made his chest tighten. The feel of your skin, soft and warm beneath his fingertips, the sound of your voice, so eager to please… it haunted him. The way you had knelt before him, lips parted in anticipation, had driven him to the edge of his restraint.

He should have stopped it. He should have turned away, sent you home, reminded you of your faith, of his vows. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had given in, swept up in the heat of the moment, in the way your body responded to his touch, in the softness of your breath against his skin. And now, no matter how much he tried to pray, no matter how often he begged for forgiveness, the memory of that night refused to leave him.

Charlie’s breath came shallow as he stood, pacing the small room in frustration. His fists clenched at his sides, the fabric of his robes suddenly feeling too tight, too constricting. He could feel the familiar ache building in his chest, spreading lower, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, the pull was too strong to resist.

He glanced toward the small crucifix hanging on the wall, a wave of guilt washing over him. He was a man of God—he wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to let his thoughts linger on sinful desires, especially not desires for you.

But the truth was, no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your name echoed in his mind, and the memory of your touch seemed to burn hotter with every passing moment.

But when he closed his eyes again, all he could see was you—on your knees, so willing, so eager. The memory of your lips sent a shiver down his spine, and the guilt that followed only fueled the fire inside him.

And he knew, in that moment—the worst part wasn't the fact that he did those sinful actions—it was that he wasn't sorry, not one bit. Not even a sliver of remorse.

A chill ran through him at the thought, his stomach twisting with a blend of shame and something else, something that made him feel even more unsettled. It wasn’t regret that filled him when he remembered that night—it was a strange, unwelcome satisfaction. A hunger that hadn’t been sated, not entirely.

He had broken his vows, crossed a line he swore he never would. But now, in the stillness of the night, with only his thoughts to keep him company, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the truth. He wasn’t sorry. Not for the way you had looked at him, not for the way his body had responded to yours, and certainly not for the way his hands had roamed over your skin, desperate to claim you as his.

The worst part, the part that filled him with guilt and dread, was that he would do it again. Given the chance, he would fall just as easily. There was no penitence in his heart, only desire. And that terrified him more than anything else.

He had spent years dedicating himself to his faith, to his congregation, to being a beacon of moral strength and guidance. But now, the very foundation of everything he believed in was crumbling beneath him. How could he stand in front of his parish, look your parents in the eye, and preach about virtue when he knew what lay inside his own heart? How could he ask for forgiveness when, deep down, he wasn’t ready to give up the sinful thoughts that had taken root in his mind?

Charlie stood abruptly, crossing the room to the small mirror hanging on the wall. He stared at his reflection, searching his own eyes for the man he once was. But all he saw was the shadow of someone who had allowed himself to be consumed by temptation. He touched the collar around his neck, feeling its weight like a noose tightening with each passing second.

The worst part wasn’t the act itself—it was the knowledge that he would do it again. He would welcome it, crave it. You had awoken something in him, something dark and uncontrollable, and no amount of prayer or penance could change that now.

A soft knock at the door startled him from his thoughts. For a moment, his heart leapt into his throat, fearing that it might be you. That somehow, you had sensed his weakness, his need, and had come to him again. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he crossed the room and opened the door.

It wasn’t you. It was another member of the congregation, a kindly older woman who often helped with the church's charitable efforts. She smiled at him warmly, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside him.

"Father Charlie," she said, her voice gentle. "I wanted to thank you for your sermon earlier. It was so uplifting. We’re blessed to have you."

Charlie forced a smile, nodding as he thanked her for her kind words. But as she turned to leave, he felt a hollowness settle in his chest.

He didn’t feel like a blessing. He felt like a man on the edge of a precipice, teetering dangerously close to a fall he might never recover from.

And the worst part? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be saved.

──

Father Charlie stood at the pulpit, his voice steady as he delivered the sermon to the congregation. The stained glass windows bathed the church in a soft, multicolored light, the hum of his words blending with the occasional creak of wooden pews. His hands gripped the edges of the podium, knuckles pale, though his calm expression gave nothing away.

"And though we may walk through the valley of shadows," he said, his voice resonating through the high ceilings, "we must remember that God’s light will guide us, if only we choose to follow it."

His eyes swept over the familiar faces before him—devout, attentive, hanging on his every word. For a brief moment, he felt the usual sense of peace that came with leading his flock, of being their shepherd through life’s trials. But then, in the midst of that calm, the heavy oak doors at the back of the church creaked open.

You stepped inside, late.

Charlie’s heart faltered.

You moved quietly down the aisle, slipping into a pew near the back, trying to draw as little attention as possible. But he noticed you. Of course he noticed you. His breath hitched in his chest, and for a moment, the words on his tongue stumbled.

You didn’t look at him right away, your eyes scanning the prayer book in front of you as you settled in, but he could feel the electricity of your presence, like a whisper of something forbidden trailing through the air. His mouth went dry as he remembered, vividly and all too easily, the feel of your skin under his hands, the heat between you, the way your lips had parted in that fleeting moment of sinful indulgence.

His mind, usually sharp and disciplined during sermons, began to unravel, his thoughts wandering to places they never should have. His gaze lingered on you as you sat there, your expression neutral, but there was something in the way you held yourself that made it impossible for him to tear his eyes away. He noticed the way your hair caught the light, the soft curve of your neck as you bowed your head slightly. His pulse quickened against his will.

Charlie cleared his throat, trying to refocus on the words he had prepared, but they felt distant now, hollow in his mouth. He was no longer preaching to his congregation; he was struggling to hold onto his composure, his resolve crumbling with each passing second.

"Temptation," he began again, though his voice was softer now, as if the word itself held a deeper, more personal meaning. "It is something we all must face. It whispers to us when we are weak, it pulls at us when we are vulnerable. But we must find the strength to turn away, to resist the allure of sin."

His eyes found you again, and this time, you looked up. Your gaze met his, and in that single glance, he felt everything crash into him at once. The air between you seemed to thicken, heavy with the weight of what had passed between you. His breath caught in his throat, and he forced himself to tear his gaze away before anyone could notice the tension that hummed just beneath the surface.

But you didn’t stop looking at him. He could feel your eyes on him, a silent challenge, a reminder of the line that had already been crossed. He fought to keep his voice steady, but the sermon felt like it was slipping away from him, the careful words he had crafted now little more than a veil over the chaos inside his mind.

"We must… stand firm in our faith," he continued, though the conviction had drained from his voice. "For in times of darkness, it is only through faith that we find salvation."

Salvation. The word felt bitter on his tongue. Could he even claim to believe it anymore, after everything that had happened? After what he had allowed to happen?

The sermon dragged on, each word a labor, each moment a battle to maintain control. And all the while, you sat there, your presence like a burning flame in the cold of the church, drawing him in, tempting him with a kind of heat he knew he could never touch again.

When he finally reached the end of his sermon, the relief was almost palpable. He offered the closing prayer, his voice quiet, barely able to focus on the familiar verses. As the congregation murmured their amens and began to file out of the pews, Charlie stayed rooted at the pulpit, his eyes lingering on the spot where you sat.

But you didn’t leave with the others. You stayed behind, waiting until the church was nearly empty, until the last whispers of conversation faded away into the stillness. And then, slowly, you stood and made your way toward him, your footsteps soft against the stone floor.

Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest, the air between you charged with unspoken tension as you approached. The church was quiet now, the last of the congregation having departed, leaving only the echo of their footsteps behind. The light filtering through the stained glass seemed softer, casting shadows that flickered across the empty pews. But there was nothing soft about the way his pulse thundered in his ears, about the tightening in his chest as you closed the distance between you.

He should have walked away. He should have left immediately, before anything more could be said, before the unspoken words between you could turn into something neither of you could take back. But instead, he stood there, frozen in place, rooted to the spot by the weight of your gaze.

“Father Charlie,” you said softly, your voice low and sweet, like a secret meant only for him. The sound of your voice sent a shiver through him, and he fought to keep his expression neutral, though he could feel the cracks in his composure growing deeper with every passing second.

“Yes?” His voice came out rougher than he intended, strained.

You took a step closer, and the scent of your perfume reached him—something soft, floral, intoxicating. “Your sermon…” you began, but the words trailed off as your eyes met his again, and in that moment, he could see the truth in them. The same hunger that gnawed at him was reflected in your gaze, the same forbidden desire simmering just beneath the surface.

He swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He couldn’t allow this to happen. Not again. Not here, in the house of God, where his entire purpose was to be a guide for the people, to resist temptation, to be the moral compass for those who sought him out. But standing this close to you, feeling the warmth of your body, seeing the way your lips parted slightly as you looked at him—it was as though the air itself was charged with electricity, pulling him in.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” you continued, your voice softer now, almost a whisper. “About temptation… about resisting it.”

His throat tightened. He knew where this was going, knew he needed to stop it before it went any further. “You should,” he managed to say, though his voice was strained. “We all must resist.”

Your eyes flickered with something—amusement, perhaps, or maybe defiance. “Is that what you’re doing right now, Father?” you asked, stepping even closer, so close that he could feel the warmth radiating from your skin.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Not like this.”

“And yet,” you replied, your voice teasing, “here I am.”

He clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body taut with restraint. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t give in to the desire that gnawed at him, no matter how strong the pull. But as you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm, the warmth of your touch sent a jolt through him that made it nearly impossible to think clearly.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about it, too.”

He closed his eyes, struggling to find his breath. Of course, he had been thinking about it. He hadn’t been able to think of anything else since that night, no matter how much he tried to push it away. But acknowledging that would only make it worse, would only open the door to something darker, something he wasn’t sure he could come back from.

“I can’t…” he started, but the words stuck in his throat.

You stepped even closer, your body now just inches from his, and he could feel the heat radiating from you, could smell the faint sweetness of your perfume. “You don’t have to resist,” you whispered, your lips so close to his ear now that he could feel the warmth of your breath against his skin.

Charlie’s hands trembled at his sides, his heart pounding in his chest. He was standing on the edge of a precipice, knowing that one more step would send him over, would plunge him into something he couldn’t take back. He opened his eyes, his gaze locking with yours, and in that moment, he knew.

The worst part wasn’t the temptation. The worst part was that he didn’t want to resist anymore.

"Sweetheart?"

You both immediately jumped, putting some space between you two. You looked back to see your mother standing, looking between you two with suspicion. Charlie’s heart nearly stopped in his chest as your mother’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. His breath hitched, and he took a hurried step back from you, creating what little distance he could in the small space between you both. The panic coursing through his veins was almost palpable, his mind scrambling for an excuse, an explanation—anything to justify the intimate moment your mother had just interrupted.

You spun around, your cheeks flushed, eyes wide as you faced her. “Mom…” you started, your voice shaky, barely able to form the words.

Your mother stood just a few feet away, her eyes narrowing as they flicked between you and Father Charlie. Suspicion danced across her face, her arms crossing over her chest in a way that made it clear she didn’t believe for a second that what she had just walked in on was innocent.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, her voice tight with concern, but laced with an edge of disbelief. “Why are you here alone with Father Charlie?”

Charlie swallowed hard, doing his best to regain some semblance of composure. He stepped forward, trying to project the calm and collected demeanor he was known for.

His hands fidgeted behind his back, where no one could see the way they trembled. “Mrs. L/N,” he said, forcing a small smile, “I was just… offering some spiritual guidance. Your daughter has been struggling with her faith lately, and I wanted to make sure she was alright.”

Your mother raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. She glanced at you again, her suspicion deepening. “Spiritual guidance?” she repeated slowly, her tone skeptical. “That’s all?”

You nodded quickly, your face burning with embarrassment, desperate to put her at ease. “Yes, Mom. That’s all. I’ve just… I’ve had a lot on my mind, and Father Charlie was helping me work through some things.”

Your mother didn’t look satisfied, but she didn’t push any further either. Instead, she sighed, her eyes softening just a little as she looked at you. “Sweetheart, I’ve been worried about you. You’ve been distant lately, and I just want to make sure you’re okay. I’m your mother—I know when something’s not right.”

Charlie took a deep breath, seizing the opportunity to steer the conversation away from the dangerous ground it had been treading. “You have every right to be concerned,” he said gently. “But I assure you, your daughter is fine. She’s just been searching for some clarity, and sometimes, that means taking a step back to reflect. It’s a normal part of spiritual growth.”

Your mother seemed to hesitate for a moment, her eyes lingering on him as if weighing his words. Finally, she nodded, though the unease still lingered in her expression. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But… next time, sweetheart, maybe talk to me too. I’m always here for you.”

You smiled weakly, giving a small nod. “I will, Mom.”

Your mother’s gaze softened further, and she gave you a gentle smile before turning back toward the door. “Me and dad are waiting outside,” she said over her shoulder. “Don’t take too long.”

As soon as she was gone, the tension in the air shifted, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence. Charlie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his shoulders sagging with the weight of what had almost just happened.

“That was too close,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you turned back to him.

Charlie nodded, running a hand through his hair, his thoughts still racing. “We can’t keep doing this,” he said quietly, though even as he said it, part of him knew it was a lie.

You stood there, staring at him, your breath unsteady as the reality of what had just happened sunk in. Your mother had almost caught you, and the danger of the situation wasn’t lost on either of you. And yet, there was still that undeniable pull, the heat between you two simmering just beneath the surface, refusing to die down despite the risk.

Charlie’s words hung in the air, a weak protest against what both of you knew was inevitable. He had said it before—he couldn’t keep doing this—but neither of you had stopped, even after that night. Even after everything that had followed.

You took a small step closer to him, your heart pounding as you fought against the voice in your head that told you to walk away. “You don’t mean that,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He closed his eyes, his jaw tight, clearly trying to hold on to whatever shred of self-control he had left. “I should mean it,” he muttered, his voice strained, but he didn’t move away from you. If anything, he seemed to lean in closer, despite his own protest. “This is wrong. We both know that.”

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles as he wrestled with himself. “Maybe it is,” you admitted, your eyes meeting his again, “but that doesn’t mean I regret it. Do you?”

Charlie looked at you, the conflict plain in his eyes, but the more he stared, the more that tension seemed to fade. “I don’t regret it,” he finally admitted, his voice low and hoarse. “But I should.”

You shook your head slowly, stepping even closer to him, the space between you almost non-existent now. “Then why don’t you?”

Charlie’s breath hitched, his gaze flickering over your face as if searching for an answer. The heat between you two was almost unbearable now, every inch of space crackling with tension, and you could see the exact moment his resolve began to crack.

He exhaled sharply, his voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of warmth spreading through you. You moved closer, your hand sliding down his arm, feeling the way his skin shivered beneath your touch. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered back, your lips dangerously close to his now.

For a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear. It was just the two of you, standing there in the quiet, the tension and the desire between you growing stronger with every passing second. Charlie’s breath quickened, his eyes dark with longing as he stared at you.

But then, just as quickly, his expression shifted, a look of torment crossing his features. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” he whispered, his voice trembling with both desire and guilt. “You deserve better than this.”

You swallowed hard, your heart clenching at his words. But you shook your head, refusing to let him pull away now. “What I deserve,” you said softly, “is you. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

Charlie’s eyes flashed with something—a mix of longing and torment—and for a moment, he looked like he might resist again. But then, something inside him snapped. He reached out, his hands grabbing your waist, pulling you closer in one swift motion.

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips crashed into yours, and for a second, all of that guilt, that tension, melted away in the heat of the kiss. His hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you against him as if afraid you might slip away. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the church, not your parents waiting outside, not the fact that what you were doing was forbidden.

All that mattered was the way his lips felt against yours, the way his touch set your skin on fire, the way everything else seemed to fade into the background when you were with him.

The kiss deepened, an electric jolt shooting through you as Father Charlie held you close. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your heart race faster than you thought possible. You felt the heat of his body against yours, his grip possessive yet gentle, like he was trying to hold on but afraid he might break you. It was a contradiction, just like him—full of restraint, but also full of passion.

You let out a soft gasp as his hand slid up your side, brushing against your ribs, and the sensation made your knees weak. You had to remind yourself that this was real, that this was actually happening again, despite all the reasons it shouldn’t. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop it any more than he could.

Charlie broke the kiss first, his breath ragged, his forehead pressed against yours. His eyes were squeezed shut as if he were fighting an internal battle—one that he was quickly losing. “This can’t happen again,” he whispered, though the way his hands still held you told a different story. His resolve was crumbling, just like it always did around you.

You nodded, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, but you couldn’t bring yourself to agree out loud. The tension between you two was still thick, and the temptation was too strong, too intoxicating to resist.

You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, mirroring your own, and it was enough to make you lean in again, brushing your lips against his one more time.

“Then stop,” you whispered against his lips, daring him, challenging him to push you away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he kissed you again, harder this time, as if the very act of pulling you closer was the only thing grounding him. His hands gripped your waist tighter, fingers digging into your hips, and you could feel the desperation in his touch. There was no hesitation now, no pretending that this wasn’t what he wanted.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his clerical shirt, the smooth fabric bunched under your fingers. It was almost surreal, the way everything else disappeared around you, the church silent except for the sound of your breathing and the faint echo of your heartbeats.

But then, reality began creeping back in, like a shadow over the two of you.

The weight of what you were doing came crashing down again, as it always did, leaving you both tangled in a mess of desire and guilt. Charlie broke away once more, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with the effort to steady himself. His eyes were wild with conflict as he looked at you, his voice hoarse. “We can’t… Not here. Not like this.”

You could feel the hesitation returning, his conscience pulling at him once again. But before he could say anything more, you pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

“I know,” you whispered, nodding. “But don’t regret this, Charlie. Please.”

His gaze softened for a moment, and for just a second, it seemed like the weight of his guilt was lifting, replaced by something softer, something more real. He gently took your hand in his, pulling it away from his lips, and brought it to his chest, holding it there as if to let you feel the way his heart raced beneath your fingertips.

“I don’t,” he said quietly, his voice firm despite the uncertainty lingering in his eyes.

But before either of you could speak again, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway outside the small room. You both tensed immediately, pulling apart in a rush as if the entire world had just come crashing back down on you.

Your mother’s voice rang out, calling your name from somewhere outside, and the reality of your situation hit like a cold shock to your system. You glanced at Charlie, your pulse still racing, your thoughts a jumbled mess.

You sighed, stepping back, your heart still pounding as you adjusted your clothes, trying to make yourself presentable before stepping out of the room.

As you left the small space where everything had happened, Charlie watched you go, his chest tightening with the weight of his own choices. He knew there would be consequences to all of this—there always were. But as he watched you disappear into the hallway, a small part of him couldn’t help but want more.

And that terrified him most of all.

──

Father Charlie’s lips crashed against yours with a fervor that left you breathless, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you into the small, dimly lit room at the side of the church. The door clicked shut behind you, the quiet sound echoing through the silence as though sealing you both away from the world outside.

Your back hit the wall gently, the cool stone pressing against you, but all you could focus on was the heat radiating from him—the way his body seemed to burn with a need that matched your own. His kiss was desperate, almost frantic, as though he had been holding back for too long and could no longer control the desire that had been eating away at him.

“God, I’ve tried,” he muttered against your lips, his breath hot and ragged as he pressed his forehead against yours for just a moment, as though trying to regain some semblance of control.

But even as he said it, his hands roamed over your body, fingers trembling slightly as they traced the curve of your hips. “I’ve tried to stay away… but I can’t.”

His confession sent a shiver through you, both of guilt and desire. You knew this was wrong—both of you did—but the pull between you was too strong to resist. There was something magnetic in the way you fit together, something undeniable in the way his touch made your pulse race.

You gasped softly as his hands slid higher, brushing just beneath the hem of your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending jolts of electricity through your skin.

“Charlie…” you breathed, barely able to find the words as your heart pounded in your chest. His name left your lips like a prayer, one filled with both need and hesitation.

His response was a low growl of frustration, his hands tightening on your waist as if trying to ground himself, but his lips returned to yours with renewed urgency. The kiss deepened, becoming hungrier, more reckless, as though the two of you had crossed a threshold you could no longer retreat from. His fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, pulling you even closer to him, your bodies pressed together in a way that left no room for anything but the heat of your desire.

“We can’t…” he whispered again, though the words seemed hollow now, an afterthought that barely registered in the heat of the moment. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against it, and you couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped your lips. “But I don’t want to stop.”

His words mirrored the conflict that raged inside of you—this was a line that should never have been crossed, but now that you were here, it felt impossible to turn back. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, your body arching into his as his hands explored your skin. The soft rasp of his breath against your neck, the heat of his body pressed so close to yours—it was overwhelming, intoxicating, and it left you dizzy with need.

For a brief moment, he pulled back, his chest heaving as he stared at you with dark, conflicted eyes. “We’re going to hell for this,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with desire, but there was no regret in his tone—only raw, unrestrained longing.

You shook your head, your fingers still gripping his shirt as you looked up at him, breathless. “Then take me with you.”

That was all it took for him to lose whatever remained of his restraint. With a groan, he captured your lips again, his hands moving faster now, more urgently, as though afraid that if he stopped for even a moment, the weight of what you were doing might crush him. You didn’t care anymore, not about the consequences, not about what anyone might say. In that moment, there was only him, only the way he made you feel—alive, reckless, consumed.

His hands slipped beneath your shirt, fingers splaying across the bare skin of your waist as though claiming you entirely. The cold stone wall at your back contrasted sharply with the heat of his body pressed against yours, grounding you even as everything around you spun out of control.

There was no space between you now, your bodies moving together in perfect rhythm, each touch, each kiss driving you further into the dark, forbidden territory you both had sworn to avoid. But neither of you had the strength to resist anymore. His breath was ragged against your neck, your own heart pounding in time with his as the intensity of the moment wrapped around you like a vice.

"Gonna make you cum so many times," he mumbled into your neck as he pushed you harder on the wall.

You let out a small giggle at his words, your head falling back against the wall with a small thud. "Is that a promise?"

Charlie hummed against your neck. "Mhm, you won't be able to walk outta here."

You tangled your fingers into his hair as he spoke, pulling him closer, urging him on. You needed this as much as he did. Needed to feel alive, to feel something that burned beyond the lines of right and wrong. It wasn't just lust—it was a dangerous craving for connection, something that both frightened and exhilarated you.

"Please," you pleaded, breath hitching as his hands roamed higher. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the struggle within him, but his resolve broke the moment you gave him permission.

With a low groan, his hands slid beneath your shirt completely, the sensation of his touch sending fire through your veins. Every nerve in your body was alight, the tension between you mounting to an unbearable high as his lips claimed every inch of skin they could reach. His breath was hot against your neck, the pressure of his body overwhelming, yet intoxicating.

Charlie’s mouth found your ear, his breath warm and labored. “I don’t know how to be anything else around you... it’s like you’re inside my head.”

You gasped as he pressed himself harder against you, your lips brushing the curve of his jawline in response. His words cut through you, filled with the same struggle and longing that burned in your chest. It was reckless, dangerous even, but it was real.

Without warning, his arms around your middle and picked you up. You let out a surprised sound as you wrapped his hips, before he dropped you right on the desk. The sensation of being completely in his control, suspended in the air for a fleeting moment, sent a thrill through you.

Before you could even process what was happening, he dropped you onto the desk behind you. The cool wood pressed against the back of your thighs as your hands flew to grip the edge, steadying yourself. The roughness of the gesture, the way his eyes burned into yours, left you breathless.

There was no hesitation in his movements anymore, no room for doubt or second thoughts. The desk creaked slightly beneath the weight of the moment, but neither of you cared.

Charlie stepped between your legs, his hands immediately finding your waist, fingers pressing into your skin like he was anchoring himself to you. His gaze roamed over your face, dark and full of hunger, before his lips crashed back onto yours with renewed intensity. His kiss was deeper now, more demanding, as though he was trying to erase every single barrier between you.

"Charlie," you moaned as you blinked up at him, your whole body feeling like it was on fire.

Your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more of him, craving the feeling of his body against yours. His hands slid up your sides, trailing heat in their wake as they pushed your shirt higher, exposing more skin to the cool air. You shivered, but it had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way his touch set your nerves on fire.

“God, I’ve wanted this,” he growled against your lips, his voice low and filled with raw need. He leaned forward, his body pressing yours back against the desk, the weight of him intoxicating. You could feel the intensity of his desire, the way he held nothing back now, his control slipping with every passing second.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers exploring the firmness of his body beneath the fabric of his clothes. Every muscle tensed beneath your touch, responding to you in ways that made your pulse race even faster. You pushed his shirt up, wanting to feel the heat of his skin against yours, to close the distance between you even more.

His lips left yours for a moment, trailing down your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. You tilted your head back, giving him more access, feeling the way his teeth grazed your collarbone, his hands gripping your hips with almost bruising force.

You could feel him hard against you, his desire unmistakable. The tension between you, the build-up of everything unsaid, was too much to bear anymore. You arched against him, needing more, wanting to lose yourself in the overwhelming heat between you both.

He then spread your legs further before practically ripping your skirt off, throwing it somewhere else in the room. He leaned down to press a sloppy kiss on your stomach before he slowly descended down where you needed him most.

Charlie placed two fingers on top of your clothed wet pussy, letting out a broken groan. "So ready for me, huh?"

All you could do was moan in response as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut. The feeling of his fingers so close to where you ached, made you wanna scream in desperation. You just wanted him to fill you up and fuck you senseless.

“Charlie…” you breathed, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you felt in that moment. His name on your lips only seemed to spur him on, his fingers pushing deeper into your needy cunt.

Finally, he moved your panties to the side before slowly dipping a finger inside your sloppy pussy. Your back arched to his touch, letting out a pornographic moan.

Charlie shivered at the beautiful sound, his pants becoming impossibly tight. He felt his cock get harder every second, he wasn't sure how long he could wait—but he needed to taste you.

Keeping his finger inside your wet pussy, he leaned down and pressed his lips against it. With the added sensation, you were sure you were gonna pass out. Charlie slipped out his tongue, tasting your sweet juices as he hummed.

"Taste so fucking sweet, baby." He moaned as he opened his mouth to taste more of you. The taste was heavenly, he shut his eyes and began devouring you, his finger slipping in and out.

You were practically sobbing with pleasure at that point, your hand on his head as he ate you out like a starved man. Your pussy clenched around his finger, but you needed more. You needed his cock, desperately. He began rubbing himself against the wooden desk, desperate for any friction as he continued his assault on your puffy cunt.

You felt that familiar tightening in your lower stomach begin to form and you knew that it wouldn't take a lot more to make you cum. You began breathing heavily, your head falling back as you nodded desperately.

"Please, please make me cum," you babbled as you fisted his hair. "Oh, fuck!"

One last push of his finger and you were cumming around him, and Charlie wasted no time—he kept licking your juices until he felt he was completely satisfied. You were breathless from your high, but Charlie was far from done.

As you regained some sense of consciousness, you heard his belt buckle hit the wooden floor with a familiar thump. Then, Charlie’s lips crashed back onto yours with renewed urgency, fueled by your whispered permission. You could taste yourself on his tongue, humming at the salty taste.

His hands roamed over your body, no longer holding back, exploring every inch of exposed skin. You could feel the heat between you intensifying, the air growing thick with anticipation.

His free hand gripped your waist, pulling your body flush against his, and you could feel just how much he wanted you. The desk beneath you creaked again, but the noise was drowned out by the sound of your ragged breathing, the thud of your heartbeat in your ears, and the steady rhythm of his movements against you.

Charlie’s mouth continued to explore your neck, leaving kisses that sent shivers down your spine. He pulled back for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, dark and full of something primal. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, his voice husky, sending a thrill through you.

Your lips parted, words forming on the tip of your tongue, but they were lost as he lifted you slightly, shifting you further onto the desk. The sudden movement made you cling to him, your legs tightening around his waist, the closeness between you now unbearable in the best way.

Charlie then reached for his cock, you glanced down to see his redden tip leaking with pre-cum. He led his tip to your entrance, and he slowly began pushing himself into your warmth. Charlie let out a sigh of relief as his head fell back; he had missed the feeling of your tight cunt.

You were still sensitive from the previous orgasm, you were shaking at the burning and overwhelming sensation. "Please, Charlie," you didn't know what you were pleading for at this point.

Charlie let you adjust to his size before he began drilling in and out of you, the wooden desk creaking underneath you. You felt so full, you swore you felt him all the way up to your throat. Your hands found his broad shoulders, holding on as his thrusts began more erratic and desperate.

"This fuckin' pussy was made for me," he gasped as he began fucking you into the desk, the power of his thrusts making you cry out. "God made this pussy all for me, like a little present."

All his ramblings were going in one ear and out the other, you were absolutely drunk on his cock. You just moaned in response, unsure of what he was even saying at this point—Charlie wasn't sure either.

Charlie was snapping his hips against yours, he wasn't even thinking straight; he felt like a fucking dog in heat. All he could think of was cumming inside of your tight pussy again and again, until either of you could take it anymore.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out as you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to your orgasm. Your pussy tightened around him, your eyes rolling back in pure and unadulterated pleasure.

You came again, your whole body shaking as you felt your legs give out. You were practically limp as Charlie kept slamming into you, chasing his own high.

After a few more rough snaps of his hips, Charlie was spilling his seed into you. He rode out his high as he sighed heavily, his forehead falling against yours. You were both breathless, but nonetheless satisfied. His breath was warm against your skin as he rested his forehead against yours, the remnants of shared intensity still lingering in the air.

Both of you were quiet for a few moments, still trying to catch your breath, hearts beating in sync. The room, once filled with hurried movements and ragged breaths, had now fallen into a peaceful stillness.

Charlie’s hand slowly trailed down your back, a soft, gentle touch replacing the urgency from earlier. His fingers danced over your skin, and despite the exhaustion that hung between you, there was a tenderness in the way he touched you now, as if he was savoring every second of this quiet moment.

His eyes, still dark with satisfaction, locked with yours, and a small, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You’re incredible," he murmured softly, his voice hoarse from everything that had passed between you.

You smiled back, your fingers brushing through his hair, still trying to make sense of the rush of emotions coursing through you. "Finally made me cum," you teased lightly, though your voice was soft and tired.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body a welcome comfort against yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything, just reveling in the intimacy of the aftermath, the unspoken connection that had deepened between you.

After a while, Charlie sighed again, this time more contented. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips soft and reassuring. “We should probably…get out of here before someone finds us,” he whispered, though there was no rush in his voice.

You laughed softly, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. You were still perched on the edge of the desk, clothes haphazardly discarded, with no sign of the wild passion that had just transpired except for the disheveled state of the room and the lingering heat between you.

But for a moment longer, neither of you moved. There was something comforting in the stillness, the quiet intimacy that followed the storm. Eventually, though, Charlie slipped out of you, shifting slightly and helped you down from the desk with a gentle hand on your waist. You both began to gather your clothes, the silence between you now comfortable.

With one last lingering kiss, you both finally slipped out of the room, the world outside waiting. But something had shifted between you—something that felt like the beginning of something more.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nicholas chavez #charlie mayhew #grotesquerie #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez fluff #father charlie mayhew #father charlie x reader #father charlie smut #smut

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thesunloveschips · 26 days ago

Text

Obsessed - Part 6 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Azriel and Y/n are idiots in obsession and perfectly matched in lust.

Warnings: Azriel & specs, Azriel's chest, delusional Azriel, smut towards the end, minors please stay away.

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

Azriel was always an early riser. He would wake up at five in the morning religiously. The only exceptions were when he’d visit his mother or his two moronic friends.

Today, however, was an exception because he had woken up at. . . what time was it?

He felt quite refreshed but in many other ways than what sleep could do to him.

He blinked a few times and took in his surroundings.

Why was it still dark? Had he slept through the entire day?

Azriel took his phone from the nightstand and checked. Midnight had just passed.

He kept his phone back and turned to the side and saw a silhouette under the light of the moon. A woman.

Azriel took his phone back and switched on the flashlight. It was a woman. Her back, to be more specific, but a woman nonetheless.

He quickly sat up straight.

He had to bleach himself.

Out of what insanity or desperation had he invited a woman into this apartment?

This apartment that he’d purchased solely for attaining his goal of making Y/n his?

He had to buy a new apartment now.

Or a new building.

Wait.

He had to go purify himself first.

And then he could only hope and beg and pray that Y/n would still accept his adulterous self.

Y/n, I have committed an unforgivable sin. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

Now, what did people do to cleanse their sins?

Repentance. But before he could do a Google search on how to regain his virginity, the woman beside him stirred.

Azriel didn’t even want to know who it was. Knowing would make it even more real.

He had to go to a temple, shave his head, and become a monk for a while before he became chaste enough for Y/n.

What if Y/n saw this woman leave his apartment? She’d instantly reject him as a potential husband. The horror of it made it increasingly difficult for him to breathe.

How did people repent for infidelity? He had to know immediately. He had to make Y/n his and be hers in this lifetime.

Maybe he should just go over to her apartment and beg for forgiveness already. Azriel could already see himself kneeling and apologising and begging Y/n to marry him.

He took a quick look behind him to see the woman’s face.

Y/n.

Y/n?

This beautiful goddess with the lovely figure was Y/n?

Was she real? Or just a figment of the uncountable number of fantasies and dreams he’d had of his woman? He calmed down a little.

Azriel hesitantly poked her cheek. Fuck, she was so adorable.

And then he pinched his cheek and pulled it until he felt the pain.

Oh. She was real.

Y/n was real.

He nearly melted into the bed, now watching her carefully.

Thank fuck he hadn’t cheated on her lest his conscious haunt him forever and beyond.

Memories of the previous night flashes before him. Kissing her. Undressing her. Devouring her on the dining table.

Fuck, fuck, that pretty mouth had been so good for him, taking his cock so well. And he’d tasted her again and then, he’d found himself inside her.

How was it that he’d lost himself to this world again and again, only to find himself with Y/n? Was this what home meant?

Her hair spread behind her in soft dark waves. Such lovely hair. So easy to grab and pull so that he could manoeuvre her body.

Azriel dared to move closer to this ethereal being. And as if she’d sensed him, she snuggled closer to him, as if she was seeking him out.

He checked whether they were wrapped properly in the blankets and watched her. Her legs were pushing and poking his own, trying to be sandwiched between them.

His hand on her back felt like a dream. Such supple skin.

She was so beautiful, he had to tell his mother of his intention to marry her.

He felt his brain become mushy as he watched her.

His perfect Y/n.

Such brilliance.

Such a blessing.

His phone began vibrating and Azriel suddenly felt murderous.

Who the fuck thought they would interrupt his time with his woman and get away with it?

It was Rhysand.

Of course, it was Rhysand.

The asshole had no consideration about the time difference ever since he was hell bent on acquiring Hewn Inc.

Azriel’s Umbra Industries and Rhys’s Velaris Corp. were all set to acquire Hewn Inc. and they were mapping out all their plans for its future.

The acquisition was on its way with their lawyers working on it but when Rhys had an idea (which was usually a brilliant one), he also made it a point to be a menace.

He cancelled the call and texted him. His arm was already missing Y/n’s skin from when it was draped over her.

Why did he have to hold a device when Y/n was sleeping next to him? This was utterly ridiculous.

Rhysand’s reply was interesting enough that he left the bed, took out his laptop, and returned. Now, he was absolutely determined to get this done before he could return to holding Y/n.

And if the sun rose before he could get in a good amount of cuddling time, he’d definitely thrash Rhys.

****

Y/n had woken up feeling rather refreshed. Her body turned and stretched on the bed itself before she properly opened her eyes and. . . where was she?

This wasn’t her fluffy furry blanket on her. The windows bringing the moonlight were on the wrong side of the room. There was another source of light in the room coming from the other side of the bed.

She turned around and saw a toned body lit up by the screen of a laptop.

That body, inked in swirls and patterns unknown, belonged to Azriel.

She looked up at that face and found him wearing glasses.

So, overall, logically speaking, her neighbour, this man, had nice abs, tattoos, tanned skin, a perfect face, curly dark hair, and glasses.

Y/n buried her face under the sheets quickly, knowing that the movement would definitely catch his attention.

Because she couldn’t look at him for too long.

She’d faint.

Of course, she’d faint.

Why was this man so ridiculously, otherworldly, erotically, fictionally hot?

This should be illegal.

But when she realised that he hadn’t initiated a talk with her, she shyly took a peek. Only to see Azriel’s face close to hers.

Y/n squealed as she hid under the blankets again.

He was still wearing glasses. So unfair.

“Y/n?” What was with that bedroom voice?

Was this man determined to not let her breathe in peace?

Could he take a break from being so hot?

“Sweetheart?” Somebody, have some mercy already. Lord or Lady or Satan, somebody better help her soon else she’d die of bliss and fuck off to the afterlife.

Nesta.

The only one who could help Y/n right now was Nesta. That woman could manipulate men whereas Y/n was definitely the opposite if anyone could see her right now.

And what the fuck was that world-rocking, toe-curling, mindblowing sex?

Did anybody warn her that her endlessly handsome neighbour, with a build as if the devil had personally sculpted him, was going to be some kind of a sex god?

The man had literally picked her up like she’d weighed nothing and thrown her on the bed.

He’d thrown her.

The goddess of dark romance and smut had finally, finally, answered her prayers and blessed her.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank–

“Y/n?” While she was busy with her gratitude, Azriel had pulled off the blankets from her.

She looked up at him, embarrassed at her own behaviour. “Hi?”

“Hello.” And he wrapped the blanket over her excluding her head. He was now laying sideways, resting his head on his hand with the elbow propped up. “Why were you hiding?”

“Nothing.” And she moved to turn her body but Azriel grabbed her waist, pulled her closer, and secured her.

“Nothing?” Why was his delicious chest in front of her? She shut her eyes tightly to control herself. Do not lick. No matter what happens, do not lick his chest.

Y/n felt him closer as he laid down properly, his arm now extended and placed beneath her head. The other hand played with her love handles, gently pinching and poking them.

“Sweetheart?” His voice was sincere and affectionate and Y/n couldn’t help but look at him. Under the moonlight, Azriel looked like he adored her the most in the world. “There’s my girl.”

The hand on her waist trailed up to her side, his thumb grazing the underside of her breast before the hand came to cradle her head. Azriel leaned in and kissed her forehead softly.

Once again, Y/n felt a veil fall on her. She didn’t understand what it was except that she felt immensely comforted. “Az?”

“Hm?” He stroked her hair.

“Mhm.” Y/n snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her. “You’re so warm.” Yes. Focus on the warmth and fluffy things. Cleanse thyself from filth.

“You like that?” Y/n had read this line in a smutty romance. Jesus had probably abandoned her after seeing her reading list.

“Mhm.” She snuggled deeper against him. A few minutes of contented silence passed before Y/n realised why she’d woken up. “Az?”

“Hm?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Oh?” Y/n could hear the filth in his tone and she pinched his arm.

“For food.” She added, hoping to heavens because she definitely needed more energy before even kissing him.

Azriel kissed her temple, her cheek, her jaw, and descended to her neck. “Sure I can’t convince you otherwise?”

“I really don’t have the energy. And I didn’t have anything after lunch.” At that Azriel stopped his attempts at seduction.

“What do you want to eat?” He sounded quite serious.

“Do you have some snacks?”

“You’re a healthy eater, sweetheart. Will snacks be enough?” It wouldn’t. He knew her eating habits by now.

“Cooking sounds tiresome.” She caressed his cheek. Gods, this man was so warm, she’d keep him as a personal heater.

“Then let me take you somewhere.”

“To that place you said earlier?” He did mention that right after they’d started kissing against her front door.

“You paid attention to that?” The hand that snaked around her waist did not have any innocent intentions.

“Food, Az. Or I might faint.” Y/n desperately wanted to ride this man while he wore specs. Gods, that was a wonderful fantasy.

“When we return, I’m having you all to myself.” Azriel grumbled, not liking the idea of being away from their cuddling session.

Who was she to say anything when she was least interested in leaving bed where he was keeping her warm?

Once they’d somehow escaped the temptation of a warm bed, Azriel told her to dress warm and borrow his clothes as needed.

He grabbed his keys and they were in the car, en route to some place her hot neighbour did not divulge.

They reached a quaint fast food outlet from where they had burgers and fries and finally moved.

****

“Tell me we’re going home.” Home? Gods, he loved hearing her say that. Home. What a beautiful place to be. But he was already home since she was next to him.

“Not yet. I wanted to show you something.”

“Those mouthwatering burgers weren’t it?”

“I planned to bring you there anyway but this is something else.” They were headed towards the outskirts of the city. At some point, Y/n had fallen asleep.

Such an adorable woman. He really needed to marry her.

They’d reached their destination soon. He stepped out of the car, opened the door to the passenger seat, and gently shook her to wake her up.

“Y/n? Sweetheart?” And she mumbled something incoherent and weakly pushed his arm away. He tried again and again and again before she finally woke up.

“Az?” It was the softest he’d ever heard her. Now, how difficult was it to get a marriage certificate? It was certainly not difficult but Y/n and his mother would team up to kill him if he tried that.

“We‘re here.” And it was a viewpoint in the outskirts of the city from where the city and the stars were an incredible sight. He watched Y/n as she admired them, awe on her features.

“They’re so pretty.” She sighed, her head against his arm. “When did you find this place?”

“I went on a midnight drive a couple of days ago. Thought you’d like it.”

“I do like it.” She affirmed. Azriel noted that. He needed to tell his PA to search for properties in the area. They leaned against the bonnet of the car for all of five minutes maybe before Y/n yawned loudly.

“Let’s go back.”

“But we came all the way here.” She protested sleepily.

“And you’re sleepy. We need to rest. We’ll come back another night.”

“Promise?” She was so fucking adorable.

“Promise.” He pinched her cheek.

Azriel helped her settle in the passenger seat before entering the car himself. Y/n had once again fallen asleep on the way home.

He had to wake her again since it would’ve been difficult to carry her and punch in the security code for the building and then open his door.

During the elevator ride up, she stretched her arms like a cat waking up from sleep. By the time they reached their floor, Y/n was more awake than she was downstairs.

They made it to the bedroom and Azriel knew they would undress. He knew they would go to bed. And yet, as she removed his jacket, he was consumed with need.

If he removed his pants right now, he’d lose restraint and definitely beg for another round. He watched as she gathered her hair and secured it with a hair clip, claw, whatever that was.

And she then removed the shirt he’d lent her for the night. It was one of his favourites but it looked so much better on her. Y/n gracefully removed it, giving him a spectacular view of her back and neck.

The purple blots on her neck felt like his personal branding on her. Pride bloomed as he noted those hickeys. Those hands deftly unclasped her bra and she turned to keep the clothes on the chair.

And Azriel, being the man that he was, was a goner as soon as he caught sight of those plentiful breasts. He was hard. And with good reason.

And then, Y/n saw him staring shamelessly at her. She raised a brow. “What?”

The plan was to reach the bed.

The plan was to cuddle and sleep.

The plan was no more.

The new plan was to get her naked and fuck her silly. “Don’t seduce me if you’re not going to do anything about it, Y/n.”

How stupid did he sound? She was undressing. Just as he knew she would. She wasn’t even fully naked and he was already aroused. The bulge on his pants was enough proof of his lust and shamelessness.

Y/n was tired. Or was she? Since she’d been stretching in the elevator. But her gaze right now. As she watched him and her own eyes mirrored his desire. “Or what?”

It was a challenge.

Maybe his woman was not so sleepy after all.

Her nipples were already hard and ready for his mouth and Azriel was looking nowhere else.

He marched over, a hand rising to her throat and the other playing with her breast, fingers pinching her nipple. “How about we see if you keep behaving like a brat once I’ve edged you for some time?”

“Or shall I go to bed and you can take care of that in the bathroom?” She touched his hand on her throat and brought it to her cheek and leaned into his touch.

Oh fuck.

That confidence of hers did things to his belly, all of which shot straight to his cock.

“And you’ll just sleep?”

“Maybe I’ll take care of myself here while you’ll be occupied with your cock.”

“Really?.” Azriel lifted her and carried her to bed. He removed her jeans swiftly and sat right next to her. “Should I come on your tits?” Azriel kissed her, moving so that he was hovering over her. He moved to suck on her nipple and remained there for a while.

“Or on your belly?” He kissed right above the pelvic bone. Her hands scratching his neck and back was a wonderful sensation. With that much, he was ready to fuck her.

Azriel moved to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. “Or inside that pretty pussy?”

“Are you going to wear all that to bed?” She lazily asked, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. His clothes were cold against her topless body.

“No. I think I like being naked around you.” He responded with a playful smile.

“Then, strip.” It was at this moment that Azriel once again realised that he was entirely fucked.

He thought he was wholly hers from the moment he saw her but there were more parts of him. Parts that submitted to her when they kissed.

When he ate her out.

When she touched his cock for the first time.

When he thrusted into that warm cunt.

Every single time, a new part of him he didn’t know about became hers. “You’re making this hard for me.”

“Your cock is hard for me?” She coyly rephrased and shot back, a sultry smile gracing her lips.

****

The way she wanted this man to rail her hard—it was honestly not funny. At this point, Nesta would be more proud of her sexual enthusiasm than Azriel.

“Yes, it is. And what a fucking temptation you are.” He grabbed her throat and kissed her. It was heavenly—the feel of his mouth pressing wet kisses to her neck.

She caught hold of his hair and let her nails through the scalp as Azriel brought some relief to her nipples with his mouth.

For all her hunger, Azriel gave and gave and Y/n really wanted more and more. She sighed. “Az.”

“I know.” He growled. Frustration didn’t even begin to cover this.

Azriel brought her leg above his and slowly thrusted into her, eliciting a moan. Her body curved, neck exposed for his mouth.

“Now, sleep.” Wait. What?

He pressed a wet kiss to her throat.

“Can’t sleep.” It felt so warm. And now that his cock was inside her, she couldn’t help her need.

“It’s the only relief.” He kissed her shoulder.

“It’s not.” She whimpered. It was torture not to be fucked by that perfect cock. “Please.”

“Like that?” Azriel thrusted once.

“Oh yes.” And he thrusted again. The slow thrusts began, pace never faltering. Y/n was feeling more and more and she wanted to take more.

“Dirty girl. I thought you were tired.” Azriel was now setting a slow, steady pace.

“I thought that too.” She sighed. “Az!” She nearly shrieked his name when he sped up for a few seconds. “Wait.”

Azriel paused, examining her face. “What happened?”

Y/n bent her leg and pushed herself up so she was now straddling Azriel.

“Fuck me.” He sighed, hands coming to her hips.

Y/n felt her sensuality bloom. It felt good to know her effect on him. To know she had control. She rose and descended on his cock twice. “Like this?”

She then rotated her hips and rose and descended. “Or like this?”

Azriel’s eyes were shut tightly, grip on her hips tightening. “Fuck.”

This was liberating. To be sexually empowered. Especially when Azriel made his pleasure known, thereby making her feel like she was good. She felt wonderful. And she felt beautiful and sensual and so many things.

“Or like this?” And she willed herself to clench on his cock.

Azriel opened his eyes instantly and moaned—moaned.

Pride zapped her in the chest. To know that she could pleasure her man and find pleasure in it was such an empowering feeling.

And when she loosened her hold on him, he pulled her by the hand and let her fall on his chest. “My dirty girl.”

Azriel bit her ear and Y/n felt him move his legs. His thighs moved and her face was suddenly pushed closer to his. “Az?”

“Prepare yourself.” That was the only warning she received before Azriel thrusted into her like that. He was now rigorously thrusting inside.

Y/n then realised that he’d planted his feet on the bed for this position. She lifted her neck, floating high above the clouds in pleasure, waiting to fall and shatter.

She couldn’t control her sounds. Whether it was a man or sigh or a groan, neither of them cared. She loved that both her and Azriel made their pleasure known and loud.

Her head fell against his shoulder, incoherent cries leaving her as she tried to beg Azriel. She didn’t even know if she wanted him to stop or continue.

Everything felt too good. The feel of his skin against hers. The sweat. The sounds. The hurried kisses. The grip on her hips. Being on top. And most of all—his cock.

The harsh slapping of wet skin against skin contributed to her pleasure, reminding her again and again exactly what was happening. With a lewd moan, she found her pleasure.

Azriel continued his unrelenting thrusts, his grip tightening as he came. He began stroking her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple. “My perfect girl.”

They laid there in silence before Y/n began shivering. She was on top of him with no blanket covering her and the cold was getting to her. Goosebumps rose and she shivered before Azriel came out of his post-orgasm haze and realised what was happening.

He immediately pulled the blanket over them, ensuring she was covered and she snuggled against him like a cat.

Gods, she’d keep this man.

Not just because she had real feelings for him or because the sex was fucking fantastic but because he was a great source of warmth.

The warmth was a cosy feeling but his body in general was quite like a pavement. So once she gained her strength, Y/n moved to the side, choosing to settle there, curled against Azriel. He turned and caged her in his arms.

“What are you doing to me?” Azriel whispered against her ear.

Y/n looked him in the eye and replied. “Probably whatever it is that you’re doing to me.”

****

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nightingale-prompts · 2 months ago

Text

Batboy admits the Truth

First | Previous | Next

(Remember when this was cute and fun)

It was a tense reunion. Batman sensed it and left Nightwing to handle it.

Nightwing was of course not happy. He was downright pissed actually.

"Danny Nightingale-Grayson! Running away again?! After last time?!" Dick was about to go on a long lecture when Danny interrupted.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be sorry! I was so worried!" Dick scowled as he tried to calm down.

"I know. I was just scared. You deserve an answer. A good one. I've never had to explain all of this so please just listen." Danny hoped that this was a good idea.

Dick huffed but this was the start that he wanted.

"I'm dead. Undead at least." Danny began.

"What do you mean? Like a zombie or…like Jason?" Dick asked.

"I don't really know. Jason is like me but I'm not like him. I'm more dead than him I guess." Danny didn't know how to nail that down, revenants are their own things. Several rungs down from where Danny was.

"And how did that happen?" Dick asked gently.

"It was an accident. I was just cleaning my family's lab. The portal wasn't working and I just wanted to take a look. I thought if it finally worked they would spend more time with us. But it turned on with me in it. I didn't learn until recently that a portal to the other side required a sacrifice and that was me. I made for a perfect sacrifice at that, children make for best ones." Danny tried to make a joke but it fell flat.

Dick saw stunned into silence. All this time…Danny you-" Dick was appalled that the same people who hated him for who he was were the same people whose negligence that caused him to be this way.

"Its fine though. They didn't mean for this to happen and I should have known better then to mess with the portal." Danny said defensively.

Despite everything he still cared about his parents at least a little bit.

"That is not fine Danny. You aren't fine Danny. They made you feel like you were not human." Dick said exasperated.

Danny shook his head his face contorted.

"Dick…I'm not human." He said simply. It was plain as day "I thought you understood that. I haven't been just human in a long time. When I had wings did you believe I was human?"

"That is not what I meant. You know that. I just-"Dick didn't know what he was doing. "I'm sorry. Continue."

"I got to play hero for a while. It was exhausting but I liked it. I defended the town from all sorts of ghosts. Then i learned why they were running from their home. All the while a monster like me appeared and he…" Dark Danny's memories flooded his mind. He wasn't a ghost or a human in Danny's mind. Monster was the only thought that came to him.

Dan had haunted him since. He would always be a version of Danny that's possible even if the Nasty Burger incident doesn't happen. All it takes is for Danny to suffer another loss. It almost happened again when his parents caught him.

"I learned a lot from that experience. More then that I earned a title that made me important to the other ghosts. They are actually really cool. But when I got home my parents told me that their real son was dead and I was just a ghost in his body. They called me a murderous monster and then they…cut me open." Danny took a deep breath. His throat felt tight as he held back tears. "I…ran. I escaped and lived with the ghosts."

Danny still remembered sobbing into Clockwork's arms while covered in blood.

"I saw a potential future where this happens but I had hoped it would not come to pass." He said holding Danny in his arms.

The problem with ghosts is while they can heal quickly they are damaged by mental pain far more. Danny healed slowly from his wounds and the scars remained.

Clockwork had taught Danny shifting to help improve the boy's mental flexibility and get heal in a better head space. He knew he had to ask Nocturne to take Danny's mind and spare him from further pain when he was kidnapped. Perhaps it was foolish but the event was going to happen regardless.

Dick took in this information as best as he could but it still made him irate. Danny had been through so much but he never let that mask slip until now. He still chose Dick to be his guardian even while he battled his fears of abandonment. Even after being betrayed by people he only wanted to love him.

Dick put a hand on Danny's cheek. The teen looked at him with the pain of a child left all alone. Danny, touched starved, leaned into Dick's hand.

"Danny, I'm so sorry they did that to you. You deserve so much better. I don't care what you are, you're my son." Dick said softly.

Danny's face twisted.

Son.

He wasn't fond of that word. Bring someone's son never meant much. No, when he had a sister who filled the role of his caretaker. Danny never needed a mom or dad before so the words felt hollow, like placeholders.

But Danny didn't say anything. He just wanted this internal fight to be over.

"Can we just go home?" Danny sighed.

"Yeah, sure kiddo." Dick reassured, "Do you want to go to Batburger on the way?"

"Yeah, can I get jokerized fries?" Danny immediately perked up at the sound of his favorite fast food.

"I think they don't sell those anymore." Dick tried to sound casual because no one had actually told Danny that the Joker was dead just missing.

Well everyone believed that he was missing. It was best not to tell the public that the one of the Bats actually committed murder. Thankfully no one is going to care if Joker doesn't commit another crime spree and won't ask too many questions. Honestly, Duke and Jason are having a fantastic time.

"Really? Why?" Danny asked tilting his head kind of like a puppy.

"….no idea." He shrugged.

(Now back to the regularly scheduled fluff, i swear.)

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #nightwing #dick grayson

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suntoru · 9 months ago

Text

❝ I'VE LOVED YOU BEFORE, I'M SURE OF IT!❞

— SYNOPSIS: eons ago, the king of curses lost his lover. you're gone, you have been for years, so why is it that you're standing right before him?

— WARNINGS: reincarnation, death of servant, your death mentioned, blood, swearing, angst, fluff, ooc sukuna?, he's downbad, 3k words

— AUTHOR’S NOTE: HELP MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR SUKUNA IF U LIKE IT PLS LMK AND REBLOG!!

a face so familiar that in a sea of people, he'd recognize it instantly. he could paint a perfect picture from memory alone; how could he ever forget you? the only person he's ever grown accustomed to loving with every fiber of his being. the only person who's ever made the very king of curses feel weak. so then, why... why are you here once more?

impossible. it couldn't, shouldn't be you. he watched you slip away, felt your last breath against his skin, cradled you in his arms as your life ebbed away, the haunting reminder of the day he lost you. so why, against all reason, are you standing before him?

he can't deny the reality that it's truly you standing there, amidst the blossoms, with those delicate features that outshine even the brightest stars in the sky. the very essence of innocence radiates from your being, reflected in the purity of your gaze as you remain unaware of his presence, lost in the simple joy of picking dainty flowers from his meticulously tended garden. it's a scene so achingly familiar, yet impossibly surreal, as if plucked from a distant memory and brought vividly to life before his eyes.

his naive little lamb, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks just beyond the edges of his meticulously guarded property. anyone could sneak up on you at this very moment, and you'd remain oblivious, lost in the gentle warmth of the sunlight as you hum a soft melody to yourself. do you not realize the trespass you commit with every step, the audacity of encroaching upon his domain?

for if you were anyone else, the ground beneath your feet would surely be stained crimson, a stark reminder of the consequences of such brazen intrusion. he scrutinizes your every movement, his gaze lingering on each delicate gesture as if committing them to memory. it's the first time in what feels like an eternity that he's experienced a semblance of peace.

sukuna, the embodiment of strength and power, finds himself perplexed by the profound comfort your presence brings him. he detests his own vulnerability, despises the notion of being beholden to anyone or anything. and yet, in the quiet moments spent observing you, he can't help but entertain the fleeting desire to hold you once more like the days he once treasured with you.

the fleeting moment of vulnerability dissipates in an instant as one of his ignorant servants, a mere fool in sukuna's eyes, rudely intrudes upon his garden sanctuary. with careless disregard, they trample over the delicate cecilias, the very flowers you were delicately picking.

"m-my lord, my humblest apologies," they stammer, their voice trembling with fear. "i don't know how an intruder got in, but i promise to dispose-" before they can finish their sentence, their head is swiftly separated from their body, the soft thud of impact echoing in the garden as it rolls to the ground. red oozes out, staining the grass crimson red as he stares at the body indifferently. tch. incompetence is met with swift and merciless retribution. how weak, how utterly weak. not only had that feeble intruder disrupted his tranquility, but they had also brought undue attention to his secluded sanctuary.

his gaze sharply turns towards you, contemplating whether you had noticed the disturbance, only to find your eyes innocently peering back at him. a surge of something unfamiliar courses through him as he meets your gaze. there you stand, so delicate and unassuming, clutching those flowers, studying him with a curiosity that unsettles and intrigues him in equal measure.

would you scream? run for the hills? yet, there's an underlying fearlessness about you, a quality he's always admired. part of him yearns for the recognition in your eyes, the acknowledgment of his presence, a desire for you to step closer, to nestle into his embrace and play with his hair, as if it were an annoyance he secretly craved, so long as it was from you.

"…would you like a flower?" you beam up at him, your smile radiant enough to rival the sun itself. holding it out to him, your eyes sparkle with genuine delight as you offer the delicate blossom. "it matches your hair. pretty." for a moment, he hesitates, towering over you with his imposing figure. yet, you show no fear, not of his unusual features nor his intimidating presence, not in this life and not in your past one either. with tentative movements, his rough, calloused hands brush against yours, accepting your gift.

he observes with a quiet fascination as your smile widens even further, a sight that warms a part of him he thought long dormant. almost instinctively, he restrains the urge to brush back a stray strand of your hair, watching instead as you take care of it yourself, a soft frown forming on your face as it catches in your lip gloss.

"it's funny," you begin, a playful lilt to your voice as you gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "everything here seems so familiar. tell me, have we ever met before? i feel like i know you from somewhere," you muse, studying his features with a curious intensity. there's a certainty in your tone, a sense of recognition that stirs something deep within him.

"no. that's stupid," he gruffly replies, brushing off your inquiry with a dismissive tone, though he can't ignore the flicker of amusement in your eyes. "ah, you're right. that would be impossible, wouldn't it? perhaps it was just déjà vu," you concede, your smile widening ever so slightly, there's a sincerity in your gaze that leaves him unsettled. he hates the way his heart stirs each time you do that, that... that thing with your face, he's seen it a thousand times before, that stupid smug smile. it's been a millennium since he's last seen it, and he finds himself silently admitting that he's missed it more than he cares to admit.

the one who shattered his harem, the one he believed he had lost forever. over the years of your absence, he had convinced himself that it was foolish to love a mortal. loving you was a mistake, he told himself. there was no void in his heart because of you; it was there to satiate his hunger for bloodlust.

yet, the mere sight of you right now, skin kissed by the sunlight shattered those self-imposed barriers, your voice carrying on about the flowers you held. peonies, daisies, lilies, roses—all growing in a small, vibrant garden. they were your favorites, adorning the white fence so beautifully. although he'd rather be caught dead then admit it out loud, it was dedicated to you, a silent tribute that reminded him of your presence.

in moments of turmoil, he found solace here, secretly seeking refuge amidst the blossoms, gazing up at the stars as if searching for your familiar constellations. what were they again? he had almost forgotten, and somehow, that notion was more unsettling than any sorcerer he had ever faced.

"oh, i almost forgot to ask, what was your name?" you giggle, looking up at him with an air of innocence. do you really talk to random strangers like that? you still are such an airhead. it seems you have no survival skills, but perhaps that's why he's always been so protective of you. "i am the king of curses, sukuna," he states, glaring down at you. it irks him, slightly, that even his name has been wiped from your memory. you really, don't remember, do you?

"sukuna... i'm calling you 'kuna from now on, 'kay?" you beam, and he lets out a weary sigh. how unoriginal. you used to call him that too, but anything else sounds quite strange coming from your lips.

"why are you here?" he grumbles, the question weighing heavy on his mind, not just in this moment, but echoing through the centuries. he wants to know why you've returned, why you've chosen now to reappear in his life after so many years have passed by. are you taunting his only weakness? how infuriating. you remember his old nickname, the flowers you once adorned his head with, but not him. is this some sort of game to you?

"i don't know," you answer simply, adjusting the crinkles in your dress. as the sun begins its slow descent, casting a warm, golden hue over the valley, you find yourself standing there, amidst the beauty of the landscape. "i just happened to stumble upon here," you murmur softly, your gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sky meets the earth in a breathtaking display of colors. the grass sways gently in the breeze, whispering secrets of days gone by, while memories of laughter and joy linger in the air like a bittersweet melody. his nose crinkles. what do you mean you don't know?

"what are you doing?" he hears your voice, sweet and soft like a distant echo from the past, a time when things were simpler, when you were by his side, filling his days with light and laughter. it's been hard without you, he realizes, a pang of longing tugging at his heart as he watches you standing there, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun.

he wants to reach out to you, to tell you how much he's missed you, how much he's longed for your presence all these years. but instead, he remains silent, a silent observer of the moment, as the memories of days gone by wash over him like gentle waves, leaving behind an ache in his heart.

"you're trespassing," he grumbles, his voice carrying a weight that extends far beyond the boundaries of his garden. it's a warning, a silent one for you to stay away, to spare him the agony of reliving the memories that threaten to consume him. but even as he speaks the words, he knows deep down that it's not just his garden you're trespassing into— it's his heart, too.

sukuna does not wish to love you, loving you hurts, it makes him what he hates the most, it makes him weak. once, long ago, he was foolish to love you. he never uttered those words aloud, but the way his gaze softened in your presence spoke volumes. you were the only one who managed to carve a place for yourself in his heart, a place he thought was forever closed off to the world.

he doesn't want to care about you. to him, you should be nothing more than a passing nuisance, easily disposed of if it serves his purpose. yet, as he gazes upon your innocent face, memories long buried begin to resurface, tugging at the frayed edges of his carefully constructed facade.

sukuna despises what you evoke within him, a vulnerability he thought he'd long since buried beneath layers of ruthlessness. as the sun caresses your features with its gentle warmth, he can't help but feel a pang of longing deep within his chest. it's a sensation he's tried to suppress, to bury beneath the weight of his power and dominance. after all, he's the feared king of curses, not some lovesick fool. but even he can't deny the allure of your presence, the way you effortlessly weave your way into the recesses of his darkened heart.

in the depths of his being, sukuna knows he shouldn't miss you. he shouldn't yearn for the days when your laughter echoed through the corridors of his mind. yet, despite his best efforts to cast you aside, a part of him remains tethered to you, unable to sever the invisible threads that bind him to your memory.

your love, once radiant as the sun, pierced through the darkness shrouding his heart, illuminating corners he never knew existed. it was pure, untainted, a beacon of hope in his desolate existence. even in his darkest moments, he couldn't bear to extinguish your light, for fear of losing himself entirely. but then, like a flickering flame snuffed out by a sudden gust of wind, you were gone.

the memory of holding you close as you slipped away, your warmth fading into cold nothingness, still haunts him to this day. yet amidst the pain, there was a promise— a whispered vow that one day, you'd find each other again. and somehow, against all odds, you did. but fate had robbed you of the memories that once bound you together.

he watches you now, your smile as bright as ever, oblivious to the love you once shared. it's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that you'll never remember the depth of your connection, the intensity of the love that once burned between you. forgotten memories of your presence flood his mind, stirring emotions he thought long buried.

he should be able to snuff out your existence without a second thought, should revel in the sight of your blood staining the verdant valley, your cries piercing the tranquil air. but as you stand before him, oblivious to the darkness lurking within him, he finds himself paralyzed by indecision.

his soul screams at him to act, to rid himself of this weakness once and for all. but his heart, that traitorous organ, refuses to comply. how can you, with your pure heart and untainted spirit, still evoke such conflicting emotions within him?

sukuna prides himself on his selfishness, on his willingness to betray and manipulate to achieve his desires. and yet, in your presence, he finds himself questioning whether his desire to hold you close once more is too selfish, whether his darkness would tarnish your purity.

and a part of him wonders if you'd fall in love with him again, wonders how you did the first time. would your hands feel the same, tracing the contours of his face with that delicate touch? would your lips still taste as sweet, brushing against his with that familiar tenderness?

"'kuna?" you murmur softly, looking up at him to see if he's paying attention. and for a fleeting moment, he's transported back to a memory he holds dear, etched into the deepest recesses of his heart.

"'kuna?" you had called out one day, perched elegantly on his lap, nestled against him as if you belonged there. his hand, protective yet tender, rested on the small of your back, ensuring you remained secure in his embrace. your legs were tucked into his, absentmindedly toying with some strands of his hair. "hm?" he responded, his gaze half-heartedly softening as he met your doe-like eyes, a hint of amusement dancing within their depths.

"do you think in every universe, we're together?" you inquire, your voice tinged with a hopeful innocence that tugs at his heartstrings. he let out a scoff, a familiar gesture masking the warmth that blooms within him, his fingers instinctively threading through your hair as you playfully swat them away. you're so naive and innocent, believing in such stupid things.

"that's absurd," he retorted, though the corner of his lips quirked upward in a ghost of a smile, unable to deny the affection that lingers between you. love, he once believed, was a fleeting illusion, a mirage in the desert of existence. he scoffed at the notion of eternal love, dismissing it as a fanciful delusion born of naive optimism. how could love endure when humanity was plagued by sin, disloyalty, and obstinance? it seemed absurd to place faith in something so fragile, so easily shattered by the harsh realities of life.

"hey..." you pouted, your bottom lip jutting out in a playful display of mock indignation, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "well, i believe we are," you declare, a stubborn determination coloring your words as you stick out your tongue in defiance.

"such a meanie," you'd muttered under your breath, though your protest is laced with affection as he pulled you closer, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace. and he's snapped out of his thoughts once more when he hears your voice cut through his memories.

"ah, i'm sorry," the present you sheepishly mumbles, catching yourself mid-ramble and rubbing the back of your head with an embarrassed smile. "i'm boring you, aren't i? it's getting late; i should be going."

with a resigned sigh, you glance up at sukuna, feeling a flush of embarrassment color your cheeks. you hadn't meant to prattle on to a stranger, especially one who felt so oddly familiar and comforting, like a warm, fluffy blanket on a chilly evening. as you start to move away, ready to bid your unexpected companion farewell, one of sukuna's arms shoots out, gripping your wrist firmly and halting your departure.

despite everything, you're still here, standing before him, a familiar presence that refuses to fade into oblivion, and he finds himself unwilling to sever the crimson thread of fate that you once fervently believed bound you together. he's unsettled of the idea of allowing himself to love you again, yet, at this moment, his greatest fear is not in loving you, but rather in the prospect of forgetting you altogether.

confusion flickers across your features as you look up at him, but he refuses to meet your gaze, his expression unreadable. the soft hues of the pink sunset cast a gentle glow over you both, and in that moment, you could swear you see a faint flush tingeing sukuna's cheeks.

he still considers you foolish for believing in an everlasting love. and yet, as he looks into your eyes, he doesn't believe an eternity with you would be too bad. in fact, he wouldn't mind it at all. he mutters gruffly, though his voice betrays a hint of annoyance, and yet, inexplicably, your heart leaps at the invitation.

"speak."

and with that stupidly charming grin on your face, you do.

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