#just horror and angst out of nowhere lol

[an1muuarts]

it was around 1:30 am when this was recommended to me

and it was actually scary wtf

(also cw for drug overdose if youre gonna watch it)

[guiltyasdave]

hold on to this lullaby

chapter 4 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, nightmares, implied death of a character, the angst is once again angsting, reader's thoughts have suicidal undertones sometimes

a/n: girlie is once again going through it. i know that we're moving at a very slow pace but the chemistry is growing, slowly but steadily :)

shoutout to @toomanytookas who left the most thoughtful analysis on the last chapter, and noticed how the doors being open or closed works as a metaphor for the state of their relationship. looking back, that is very true, but truth be told, it wasn't a conscious writing choice on my part lol. i love it so much though and am now using it very purposefully, so thank you for bringing that to my attention and just for being so incredibly kind <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You’re running through the woods, running, running. Searching for something, someone, that you know you won’t find. 

Keep them safe. Promise me. We’ll be there soon. 

No one’s safe. No one’s coming. No one’s there. Your hands are wet, dripping with red, leaving a trail behind you. You trip, falling down to your knees, hands sinking into the earth. There’s nowhere to go, nothing to find. 

Still, you have to keep running. Running running running, searching searching searching. Keep them safe. Promise me. 

You’re used to it. 

Eyes flying open to suffocating, disorienting darkness, gasping for breath in the stale air of your room, the blanket much too heavy on your body. The images that your subconscious conjured up, still playing behind your eyelids. Your heart racing, your mind struggling to find its way back to reality. Lying alone in the darkness, only gradually able to discern your dream from your real life, the horrors blending into one another too intricately, too smilar to be separated. 

You’re still gasping, tears burning hot in your eyes and leaving wet tracks on your face. But it’s not dark, this time. And you’re not alone. The blurry shape of Joel slowly comes into focus, illuminated by the soft glow from the lamp on your nightstand. The weight of his hand is still resting on your shoulder, anchoring you to the present, and you realize that he must have shaken you awake. That you must have been loud.

You’ve wondered before, if you’re making noises, if the sobs that wrack through your body in your dreams follow you into reality. There’s never been a way to find out, before, but now it seems like they do, loud enough to travel through the closed door and wake Joel up. 

Heat blooms on your face, fueled by shame and guilt, both for disturbing his sleep and for your behavior earlier.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice stumbling over the words, thick with sleep and more tears. 

“Hey, no,” he replies softly, soothingly, his voice a deep rumble, his touch still firm on your shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

You shrug, too exhausted to argue. His other arm twitches at his side, reaching towards you before he stops himself, sitting back on his haunches, groaning quietly at the movement. 

“You wanna–” he clears his throat, shifting slightly, “you wanna talk about it? Or is there anything else I can do?” 

You quickly shake your head, eyes trained on your hands that are clasped in your lap. He waits for another beat, before he hums, his knees creaking as he stands back up. 

You miss the feeling of his hand on you as soon as it disappears, but you can’t possibly bring yourself to ask for that, so you swallow against the lump in your throat, watching his retreating silhouette in your doorway.

“Joel?” Your hushed voice travels through the dimly lit room. He halts at once, turning back around to face you, the lines on his face somehow softer than you know them. “Could you— keep the door open? Just a little?” 

You’re awake for a long time after he leaves, at first listening to the fall of his quiet footsteps retreating to the other room, the faint rustle of his sheets as he gets back into bed, Ellie’s hushed voice and his responding grumble, but you can’t make out the words. When it’s quiet again, you retreat into the swirling mess inside your head. Unable to turn the light off, unable to close your eyes, terrified of the darkness and the images it might bring back.

You’ve tried not to think about it too hard, afraid of jinxing yourself, but you’ve noticed that you’ve slept better since Ellie and Joel have arrived. It’s like their presence, the change they’ve brought to your life, is enough to keep your mind occupied, like a safety blanket has been draped over you, keeping the worst of it away from you. But yesterday’s events must have ripped holes into it, must have brought the past and its pain to the forefront again. 

You drift back off eventually, nothingness engulfing your tired mind and pulling you into a dreamless sleep that you’re thankful for. 

You’re roused by the sounds from outside the door, the movements of someone being up filtering through the gap that Joel left open last night. It takes a while until you get your bearings, until the memories all come back to you. The familiar fear, the panic. The unfamiliar presence of someone beside you, of a touch on your shoulder.

Following the sounds, you find Joel in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, something that you usually do. You watch him for a second, taking in his messy morning hair, the specks of gray, the furrow of concentration in his brow as he’s stirring oatmeal. The steaming cup in his other hand, almost dwarfed by his large fingers, that you know must contain coffee. 

His eyes widen for a second when he notices you leaning against the doorframe, scrutinizing your face, gauging the state you’re in. You try a tentative smile, taking a step towards him, nodding towards the pot on the stove. 

“Thought breakfast was my job.” You’re pleased with how normal your voice sounds, nothing like the mess from last night. 

Joel shrugs, the expression on his face just a smidge too innocent, too casual. 

“You’re doing more than enough for us. Thought I’d let you sleep in.” 

You don’t have it in you to start a discussion about it, and you wouldn’t know how to explain this to him anyway. How you don’t want him to do things for you, don’t want to know what it’s like to have someone else care for you. Don’t want to feel how nice it is, even in such small doses. How you’re overly conscious of the fact that it will get taken away again before you know it, that you’d do well not to get used to it. How you’re not sure if you’ll be able to survive having something nice ripped away from you yet again. 

So you smile, mutter a thank you, Joel, and when he suggests that you take a shower, that he’ll be finished by the time you’re ready, you agree. Suddenly, you’re aware of the night’s sweat that has dried on your skin, clinging to you and making you feel sticky. Suddenly, you’re desperate to wash it off your skin, to leave the last night behind you and not look back.

With the stream of warm water raining down on you, the stiffness in your neck eases a bit and your breath’s coming more freely again, pieces of the tension that’s been coursing through you since last night slowly melting away. Still, you keep shivering, no matter how much you’re trying to open your body up to the warmth surrounding you, to let it drive out the coldness that’s emanating from your chest. 

Move on, your own voice echoes in your head. Keep living. The promise you’ve made to yourself, that you’re trying to keep, even though some days, you’re not sure why. 

Your arms are wrapped tightly around yourself when you enter the living area again. You’ve pulled on one of your warmest sweaters, one that you’ve knitted yourself, over the course of several long, lonely days, with nothing else to keep your hands and mind occupied. Still, you feel cold. 

Ellie is up now, sitting on the couch, a bowl of oatmeal all but forgotten in her lap and her nose buried in one of the comics you gave her, the artwork on the cover all too familiar to you. She jumps when she sees you, hastily stuffing the book in between her thigh and the cushion beside her, a guilty expression in her eyes as she looks at you. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles before you can say anything, her hands clasped in her lap. It breaks your heart to see her like this, to know that she heard you last night too. How much your behavior must have scared her. That she probably feels responsible, even though your mind was already in a bad state long before you’ve even met her. 

It does hurt, seeing those drawings of galactic adventures that you’ve seen a million times before, with another pair of eyes glued to the pages. Another child excitedly recounting the stories to you over and over, until you basically knew them by heart and listened to them time and time again anyway, because his happiness made you happy. 

The pain of it weighs heavy on you, but not as heavy as the urge to protect her from being hurt, to wipe that guilt off her face. 

“The pages are gonna crumple like that,” you say, softly, hoping to convey with your eyes what you don’t have the words for. 

She slowly pulls it back out, shooting you careful glances. “Are you sure?” She sounds so young right now, so unsure of herself, and yet she’s trying to look out for you, trying not to hurt you, when she really shouldn’t have to. 

You’re nodding, convincing the both of you, that it’s fine, that you’re fine. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “That one’s good, enjoy it.”

You duck into the kitchen, mumbling about urgently needing a cup of coffee. You’re certain that Joel has heard your conversation, and that he sees how glassy your eyes are, but he doesn’t comment on it, just quietly hands you a cup, his fingertips faintly grazing yours.

It’s a subdued kind of day. Both Ellie and Joel are trying hard to act casual around you, but you feel the lingering glances, notice the looks exchanged behind your back, the cloud of worry that’s surrounding both of them. It makes you nervous, weirdly conscious of your every movement. And you’re still cold.

You end up watching another cheap action movie that evening, Ellie curled up on the armchair while you and Joel are occupying the couch. Your chin is resting on your knees, arms wrapped around your legs, eyes fixed on the small TV. But your mind is wandering, barely taking in the scenes playing out on the screen.

Your thoughts keep going back to how Joel touched you last night, how his hand had rested on your shoulder. How good it had felt, how you have the inexplicable need to feel it happening again. How warm his hand had been. You wonder if his touch might be able to finally stop you from feeling like you’re slowly freezing from the inside.

Another involuntary shiver runs through you. Joel’s gaze slides from the screen to you beside him. He doesn’t ask if you’re cold, being familiar enough with you by now to know that you’d deny it. Even as another wave of coldness passes through you, causing your shoulders to tremble slightly.

His brow is creased with worry as he wordlessly leans over to you, spreading the blanket that had been folded over the armrest that he’s leaning against over your shoulders. Your lips tip up in a grateful smile, the long lost feeling of someone caring for you engulfing you in more warmth than the blanket could ever provide. You allow yourself to get lost in it, just for a little while. 

The blanket faintly smells like him, you realize as you pull it tighter around yourself and up to your chin, inhaling deeply. A different kind of warmth is creeping up your cheeks and you turn your face towards the TV once more, oblivious to the way Joel keeps watching you from the corner of his eye. 

When you go to bed later that evening, you leave your bedroom door ajar once again.

thank you for reading <3 comments, reblogs and asks are love and make my day every single time!

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:03」 — b.chris, l.felix

» stray kids menu | bang chan menu | felix menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ bunyip!Chris × fem!reader × bunyip!Felix wc: 6.6k summary: Y/N is convinced her map is wrong when she finds herself utterly lost on what was supposed to be a short hike from her camp. When she comes upon a small river and stops to fill her canteen, she finds more than water waiting for her. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mild existential dread of being lost in the middle of nowhere, mentions of: camping, getting lost, Australian Outback; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! taglist for kinktober is CLOSED. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this was a LOT of fun to write! I would have like to added more but time crunches are real lol this also serves as Chris' birthday post! so hbd to Chris! bunyips are an interesting mythology because reports of what they look like vary but about 60% of sightings claim they look very seal-like so that's the direction i went in. i also slightly changed the prompt to include "him" cause Y/N is sandwiched between them lol anyways, thanks for reading! the next part is oni!Jeonghan so stay tuned as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), threesome, water sex, unprotected sex (do not do), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dom!Chris, switch!Felix, sub!Reader, use of pet names (hers: babe, baby, sweetheart, angel, honey; Chris: sir; Felix: babe), and that should be all of it but let me know if I missed some. kinks: Threesome + pool/water sexdialogue prompt: ❛❛ Make Me. ❜❜ + ❛❛ God, you’re so beautiful when you’re fucked out under me/us/him. ❜❜

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When you first told your family and friends about your plans to brave the wilderness of Central Australia during a solo backpacking trip, they were quick to insist you didn't partake in such a daring feat. They called you insane, pleaded with you to reconsider but you had been determined to prove you could do it, taking months of survival and wilderness courses in preparation.

After several months of courses, collecting the appropriate gear, you were certain you were ready for your trip through the Tjoritja / West MacDonnell National Park. The flight from Brisbane to Alice Springs took just over 3 hours where you took a bus to the telegraph station where the Larapinta Trail Head was located. You had everything you needed; water, camping gear, food, and a satellite phone with a solar charger.

Everything had been carefully planned out, permits obtained, and you were ready to start your trip.

Or so you thought.

The first section of the trail took you from the telegraph station to the first campground at Simpsons Gap. The trail was just under twenty five kilometers and took roughly nine hours to complete. The trail had been mostly deserted despite being quite popular in the area. The next day, you visited the gap, snapping a few pictures before packing up and heading to the next spot.

This stretch was longer, at just over 26 kilometers, and it actually took less time at eight and a half hours. You stayed in the campground at Jay Creek with another camper which was an older couple who shared their dinner with you. That night you slept better than the first and when you awoke in the morning, you were the first to head out.

The next few days went by without incident and you were finally about to start the last section of the first half of the trail. The next section would take you from Hugh Gorge to Ellery Creek. At a distance of nearly twenty-nine kilometers, it would take between ten and eleven hours to complete. After spending the night near Hugh Gorge and replenishing your stores, you headed on your way. 

Your first stop was Hugh View before continuing on. Your plan was to stop at the next campground, Rocky Gully, where you would camp for the night. The hike from Hugh Gorge campsite to Rocky Gully only took a few hours which left you some time to explore the surrounding area.

You set up your camp at the abandoned campsite, taking a small bag to go on your small trip to explore the nearby area, following the trails around the campsite and following them east and south. You snapped pictures, hiking through the brush and taking in the sights.

After following the paths you came to a horrific realization.

You were lost.

You dug through your back but couldn’t find a compass and immediately started cursing yourself. You tried backtracking but somehow got even more lost. As you scanned the area, you started to look around for any potential water sources. Each step took you further and further away from camp.

Your water container had started to run empty and the sun was almost at its highest point in the sky. You needed water and you needed it soon. 

As you walked further, you climbed over the crest of a small hill and felt relief flood your body as you spotted a glimmer in the near distance. It was a small natural channel with water at the base. Upon moving closer, you could tell the water was a decent depth, maybe about to your waist.

The water was dark but when you dipped your hand under the surface, you could see it was surprisingly clear. To be safe, you would use a purification tablet. Opening the top of your canteen, you dipped it just under the surface, allowing water to flow in and showing you that there was a slow moving current as you filled your receptacle.

“Thank God,” you whispered as you stood up straight and pulled your bag forward to dig out one of the purification tablets and drop it into the canteen. As you started to turn away, you heard a soft splash and turned to look behind you. Scanning the water, you saw nothing. “Probably my imagination,” you murmured, bringing the lid of your canteen up to screw it on.

As you moved to step forward there was another, much larger, splash and you felt a presence arise from the water behind you. A loud roar startled you and you were too shocked to move. Your flight or fight response didn’t kick in, instead you froze.

“Wh-what the hell?!” you yelled as you felt something grab your ankle, pulling back and forcing you to fall to the ground. It had a firm grip on you and pulled again, dragging you back towards the water and away from your pack. You clawed at the red dirt, desperately trying to find something to grab onto but came up empty.

Your canteen lay forgotten, water spilling out of it and soaking the ground under it as you were pulled down into the ditch. You screamed, kicking at whatever had a hold of you, fearing the worst. Water enveloped your lower half and had you not been fighting for your life, it might have felt nice in the hot Australian sun.

Finally you managed to turn yourself over and your eyes widened in shock. A massive creature, the size of water buffalo but it was not a water buffalo. It had an almost panther-like appearance but something about it was vaguely seal-like. It had sleek black fur, black eyes with bright green irises.

It opened its mouth, displaying its teeth, all of them looked like they could tear you to shreds. You let out a scream, bringing your arms up to shield your head. Though, with an animal this large, there was no way it couldn’t just bite you in half. You chanced a glance through your arms at the creature. 

It hovered over you, its hot breath fanning over you with each pant as it stared you down. You let out whimper, shielding your face once more as you silently begged for it to not kill you. You heard the creature shift away, the heat of its breath disappearing. You waited for a few moments, only uncovering your head when you heard a splash in the water.

The creature was gone.

You sat up and looked around, expecting to see it lying in wait to ambush you but saw nothing. Looking down you saw that you were half submerged in the water and sighed in frustration as you attempted to stand up but you felt a hand close around your ankle again, yanking you back down into a sitting position. You let out a yelp, water splashing around you.

Seconds later, a head appeared, emerging from the water. Topped with short bluish green hair with waves and curls and a pair of striking green eyes that looked back at you. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you watched the head rise further, revealing the face of a handsome man. As he lifted his head from the water, he tilted it to one side, almost as if he was curious by the sight of you.

His shoulders followed, the water stopping about midway down his chest. His bare chest. You tried not to stare but it was evident that he was not wearing clothes but you didn’t want to think about that. “What the…” you trailed off as you looked at him. A smile graced his face. You half expected to see pointed teeth but instead were met with surprisingly human teeth.

“What are you?” you asked softly. The man tilted his head in the opposite direction. Paired with the smile it was slightly unsettling but he dropped the smile, a look of confusion passing over his features. He seemed to be mimicking your expression as your brows rose, so did his. “Wh-what are you?” you asked again, a little louder. He straightened up, moving through the water towards you, climbing up the slope. As more of his skin was exposed, it seemed that the silky black fur melted away to expose his golden skin tone as he crawled over you.

Soon he had you pinned, unable to get away as he looked down at you. He wasn’t answering your questions and you decided to change tactics. “Do you er… have a name?” A look of excitement came over his face and he opened his mouth. 

Whatever you were expecting to come out of him was not what you got. In a voice you weren’t expecting from what you could only assume was a creature you’d just seen, he answered. “Yeah, I’m Chris,” he said, a slight accent you recognized. It wasn’t too different from yours.

“Ch-Chris?” you asked, feeling slightly relieved when he nodded eagerly. “And he’s Felix,” he added, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the left. You turned your head, almost letting out another scream when you saw another pair of bright green eyes staring at you from just above the surface of the water. The head raised and you were surprised that this one looked so different from the first.

‘Is this some sort of mimicry technique?’ you wondered to yourself as you looked between the two.

The second one, Felix, was equally as handsome and looked like some kind of model. He had freckles littering his nose and cheeks, looking like stars dotting the sky. His hair was longer than Chris’, blond and swept back, a few strands framing his face. He had a much slender build.

“F-Felix?” you asked, looking at Chris. The one named Felix nodded, moving closer, his body gliding through the water with ease. “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice, which was much deeper, took you by surprise. “Y/N,” you answered as he neared you, also crawling up the slope of the embankment until the water hit just above his navel. Or where you assumed a navel would be.

You felt a hand on your knee under the water and your attention snapped back to Chris. “What’re you doing?” you asked, trying to squirm away but a firm hand held you down. “You can’t leave,” Chris said sternly. You looked from him to Felix and back. “Wh-why?”

“Because,” Chris started. “You took something from our stream,” Felix interjected, resting his head in his hand as he stared up at you. “You’re really pretty,” he added with a smile. “Th-thanks — wait, timeout,” you said, holding up your hands. “What exactly did I take?” you asked, looking up at Chris.

He nodded at the top of the embankment. You followed your gaze to find he was looking at your canteen which was occasionally dripping water onto the dirt. You turned back to Chris. “Water?” you asked. “The water I spilled when that.. that thing — grabbed my ankle?”

Chris looked mildly offended at your words. “I’m not a thing,” he retorted. “I’m a bunyip.” Your eyes widened as you stared at him. ‘A bunyip? The legendary maneater from Aboriginal mythology?’ You turned your gaze towards Felix who raised his brows, giving you a flash of a smile before you turned back to Chris. “You’re that creature?” you asked softly. Chris nodded.

“We both are,” Felix added. “Well, not the one you saw,” he clarified. “That was all Chris,” he explained. “Grabbing your ankle and yanking you down. I was over there.” Felix pointed down the way to where a log was sticking out of the water.

You nodded slowly. “But you’re still the same… creature?” you asked. Felix nodded. “Bunyip,” he corrected. You turned back to Chris. “I only took some water because I’m lost,” you explained. “I went for a hike and now I can’t find my way back to my camp.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Felix said, still resting his head in his hand as he stared at you. “Very unfortunate,” Chris chimed in. “But you still took without giving and now that water has been wasted. Not very nice of you in a place like this,” he continued. You glared up at him. 

“I only spilled that water because you grabbed me by the ankle and dragged me backwards. I wouldn’t have dropped the canteen if you hadn’t done that!” Chris turned his head to lock eyes with Felix before his gaze returned to you. 

“Regardless,” he started. “You still took from us and we demand a toll.” You stared incredulously at him, “A toll? For water? In the outback?” you asked. “Are you fucking kidding me!?” You looked between the two who merely stared at you. Clearly this wasn’t some joke or prank. “You’ve got to be kidding! We’re in the middle of the fucking desert!” you snapped. Chris leaned forward, making you lean away, your back pressing against the dirt embankment. 

“Do I look like I’m kidding, sweetheart?” he asked, tilting his head. His close proximity rendered you speechless as you stared up at him. “Wh-what do you want?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Chris glanced at Felix who had moved, shifting closer to where the two of you were.

“Just a toll,” Chris finally answered. “Payment for the water you took and then spilled.” A frown formed on your face. You were about to respond but Felix spoke instead. “I think the spilling was your fault. You can’t fault the poor thing from her reaction when you grabbed her by the ankle and knocked her down. You don’t even have ankles,” Felix countered. Chris glared at him before sighing. “Fine,” he said.

“Just for taking the water then,” he said. “I don’t have money on me,” you said softly. Chris chuckled. “That’s alright, sweetheart,” he said, reaching a hand up to caress your cheek. “We don’t want your money,” Felix added. He was now right next to you. “That’s not the kind of toll we want.”

‘If they didn’t want money, what could they possibly want?’

“Then what do you—” you started, your words failing when Chris leaned in closer.

“We want you,” he interrupted. You stared up at him, eyes wide, like you were prey, caught in the eyes of a predator. “M-me?!” you asked, your voice cracking. You felt fingers brush your arm and turned to look at Felix. “Yes,” he said softly, giving you an angelic smile. “We want you, honey.”

You looked between them again. “Like… to eat?” you asked. Chris and Felix exchanged looks before they both burst into laughter. “You think we want to eat you?” Chris asked, his laughter subsiding. If they didn’t want to eat you, what could they possibly want?

“Okay,” you said softly. “Now I’m confused.”

“That’s alright, baby,” Chris said softly, resting his weight on top of you. “Would you like me to explain or would you rather we just show you?” he asked, his lips ghosting over yours. A shiver ran up your spine as the realization settled in. They didn’t want to eat you.

They wanted to fuck you.

The idea should have been preposterous. Not one, but two massive legendary creatures known for killing and eating people wanted to fuck you. You should have been sent screaming for the hills but instead you were intrigued. The forms they took on were much better to look at than the massive seal-like creature you’d initially seen but would they stay that way? Or was it a ploy to get you to agree and then actually eat you?

A million questions were swirling inside your brain but you only managed to ask a few.

“Will you stay like that?” you asked, gesturing to him. A smile crossed Chris’ face as he realized you were actually considering his and Felix's proposition. “Of course,” he answered. “Wouldn’t want to scare you off,” he added with a wink. “And you promise you aren’t going to eat me?” you asked.

Chris snorted, laughing in a low tone. “We aren’t going to eat you,” he replied. “Speak for yourself,” Felix said, giving you a very smirk as his eyes roamed over your body. “I’ll eat something,” he added. 

Chris rolled his eyes. “Down, boy,” he said before returning his attention to you. “Any other questions?” he asked, cocking his head to the left. “Are we doing this right here? Out in the open?” you asked, looking around the ditch. Chris scoffed, sounding almost indignant when he spoke.

“You think we would do that? Have you out in the open where anyone could just walk right up and watch?” he asked. You shrugged wordlessly. You didn’t know what was going on in their heads. It wasn’t like you did this often. You’d never been in a position like this before.

Chris shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “We’ll take you back to our lair,” he continued. More private, and out of the sun,” he added, looking towards the sky. “And much cooler,” Felix chimed in. “How does that sound?” he asked, caressing your arm. “A nice and cool spot where we can have you all to ourselves?” You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat before nodding slowly.

“It’s settled,” Chris said, sitting back up and holding out his hand. You stared at it for a moment before taking it and allowing him to pull you up. “Where are we going exactly?” you asked as Felix moved, shifting to the middle of the stream. “Our home,” he said, dipping down until just his head was visible. “Is it far?” you asked as Chris pulled you deeper into the water.

“It’s not far,” he answered. “It’s a nice series of caverns,” he added as he moved behind you, wrapping one of his strong arms around your midsection. “You might get a little wet,” he continued, whispering in your ear, his breath making your hair stand on end and tickling your neck. “Oh,” he added as you started to float along the slow moving stream, his arm tightening around your stomach.

“And you might want to hold your breath.”

The route to their den was so hidden that you would have never spotted it from above and unless you were in the water, you still would have never seen it. There was a massive hole in the ditch which both Felix and Chris dived through. You had taken a deep breath before being submerged.

The tunnel led from the ditch to a large underwater cavern. Here, Chris resurfaced in a small air pocket to let you catch your breath before continuing on, taking one of the many tunnels that branched off from the main cavern. The tunnel wasn’t long but it was dark and impossible to see. You were left to the mercy of the man — creature? — holding you tightly against his chest as he swam.

There was a power he had, swimming along with what you could only assume was a tail. You never actually saw the lower half of his body so you could neither confirm nor deny if he even had legs. Though you did vaguely remember Felix saying Chris didn’t have ankles so perhaps that meant they didn’t have legs.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it as your lungs started to burn with the lack of oxygen. You started to panic, wondering if you might drown down here and you felt extremely embarrassed at the thought of the potential circumstances surrounding your disappearance from the human world.

‘All for some dick, too.’

As you started to struggle in Chris’ hold, he tightened his grip and sped up, kicking harder until the tunnel opened up. It was still dark but not like the tunnels had been. There seemed to be a little bit of light coming from above. Chris pulled you to the surface and you gasped, coughing as air filled your lungs. He kept a firm hold on you while you struggled to breathe.

“Take your time,” he said softly, keeping you afloat. You focused on breathing, inhaling deeply and slowly. Felix was nowhere to be seen as you looked around the air pocket. You cast your gaze up and noticed that there was a small round hole at the top of the cavern, letting a little bit of light into the cavern. 

“Are we underground?” you asked. Chris nodded. “We are,” he answered. “Pretty far actually,” he added. You looked around but saw nothing other than the rock. “You ready to keep going?” he asked. You nodded, taking another deep breath. “We’re almost there.”

The rest of the journey to the den went by without incident and soon Chris was pushing you up onto a small smooth incline made of stone. Felix was already lounging nearby, the lower half of his body submerged in the water. You looked around, noticing a small sandy area further back.

Looking up, you noticed that there were several holes in the ceiling, allowing sunlight to filter in, bouncing off the rocky surface of the walls. The entire cavern was about 12 meters in diameter. From the water’s surface, the rocky walls ran up before starting to curve up towards the flat top. Deep grooves decorated the walls, almost like massive claws had dug into the rock, leaving behind marks.

The sandy pit area was small with a partial rock wall separating it from another area that was hidden from view. You felt weight on top of your legs and turned back to find Chris crawling over you slowly. “Looking for an escape route?” he asked with a sly grin. You shook your head. “No,” you answered softly. “Just taking in the scenery. I didn’t even know there was a cave system down here,” you added as you looked up at the holes in the ceiling.

“Are we under a mountain or something? It seems so large.”

Chris chuckled, his laugh drowned out by a splashing sound. You turned your head to find the place where Felix had been lounging was now empty and the blond was nowhere in sight. “You’d be surprised by a lot of things here in the Outback,” he said softly, hand skimming up the outside of your thigh to your wet shorts.

“Oh right,” you said, looking up as he got closer. “We sort of had a deal.” Chris chuckled as he drew level with you. “Indeed we did, honey,” he said, stopping so his lips were almost grazing yours. “I won’t do anything without your permission,” he added. “So you have to say it, out loud, that you’re okay with this.” You nodded. “I am,” you replied. “I’m okay with this.” Chris’ eyes flashed, the green seeming to illuminate in the low light of the cave. “Good,” he simply said before crashing his lips against yours. 

You felt his hand cup the back of your neck as he guided you down onto the rocky surface, your press pressing into the wet fabric of your shirt. Chris’ lips left yours, making a path down your neck to the top of your shirt. He pulled back just enough to untuck your shirt from your shorts and tug it upwards. You let him pull it off you, his lips reconnecting with yours as his hands moved skillfully over your skin.

It made you wonder if he’d done this before.

Your thoughts were short lived as he undid the front clasp of your bra, quickly and easily sliding the straps down your arms and tossing the garment somewhere you couldn’t see, hoping it had been towards the sand pit and not into the water. That was your favorite bra.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as Chris’ hands cupped your chest, gently squeezing and kneading the flesh as he parted your lips with his own, tongue slipping into your mouth to find yours in a mix of heavy breathing and saliva.

You whimpered as his fingers gently pinched and rolled your nipples. He pulled back, lowering his head and taking one into his mouth, tongue swirling around the bud. As your eyes fluttered shut, you heard light sloshing of water in the background.

Lifting your head, you caught sight of another pair of bright green eyes watching you from just above the surface of the water, wet blond hair swept back. Felix was swimming back and forth behind Chris, just observing as the blue-haired man’s lips moved lower and lower, reaching your navel.

He pulled back, his deft fingers making quick work of your belt before quickly undoing the tack button and zipper of your shorts. “Lift your hips for me, pretty,” Chris breathed. You did as he asked, allowing him to tug the wet material of your shorts down your thighs and discard them on the rocks beside you.

Once he had you completely naked, he shifted down, shrugging your legs over his shoulder before bringing his face level with your sex. He didn’t even spare a second glance before diving right in, parting your lips and dragging his tongue slowly over your clit. Your fingers tangled in his hair, hips rolling as he ravaged the nub with his tongue.

You heard another splash and lifted your head to find Felix was even closer now, eyes instead on where Chris’ head was between your thighs. He had an intense look of hunger on his face but judging by how he still kept his distance, you figured there was some kind of hierarchical order at play here. Chris must have been the more dominant of two but you weren’t about to let Chris have his way with you without giving Felix some attention.

After all, they had both said they wanted you. It seemed only fair.

Letting go of Chris’ hair you raised one hand up to beckon Felix over to you. His eyes shifted from Chris to you and back, clearly hesitating until he got permission from the larger of the two. “Chris,” you said, choking back a moan. “Don’t you – ah – don’t you think Felix deserves a reward for being so patient?”

Felix turned his gaze back towards you as Chris merely grunted in response. Taking his response as the go ahead, you once again beckoned Felix over to you with a finger. Chris’ grip on your hips tightened as Felix approached slowly. You heard a growl rumble from deep within Chris but light tugged his hair.

“You don’t have to stop,” you gasped as he dug his tongue into your hole. It was inhuman how his tongue seemed to fill your cunt, lapping at your walls and finding that soft spongy spot that had your back arching. Felix had crawled part of the way up the rocky incline, keeping his eyes on Chris, ready to bolt in the event that the large male lashed out.

There was another deep growl but Chris merely tugged you down, further into the water as he continued to fuck you with his tongue. Once he was level with your body, you reached out, taking Felix’s chin in your hand and turned his gaze towards you. “Eyes on me,” you said softly. Felix nodded silently, lips parting slightly.

“C’mere,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, Chris pulled his tongue from your cunt, instead dragging it back up to your clit before sucking on the nub. You moaned into Felix’s mouth. The smaller male shifted, hovering over the top half of your body. One of his hands moved to gently grab and squeeze your chest. Another growl emanated from Chris but he allowed the contact to happen. 

Your entire body felt like it was on fire from the touches of both men — creatures? At this point you weren’t even sure what they were. The top half of them, the part out of the water, was human. But from the waist down you couldn’t even tell. You really didn’t even care at this point.

Not when they were both making you feel so good.

You moaned against Felix’s lips as you felt Chris push two fingers into your cunt, your walls squeezing around them immediately. Chris slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you, resting his head against your inner thigh as he watched your makeout session with Felix. “I have an idea,” he said suddenly. Felix pulled back, turning his head to look at the older male.

“Take her spot,” Chris said, pulling his finger from your wetness and dragging you further into the water. Felix moved into the spot you had been. “On your back,” Chris instructed, turning you around in the water to face Felix. “Look at him,” Chris whispered in your ear. You did as he said, eyes widening now that you could get a good look at Felix.

The top portion of his body was just as you already knew — human.

But where his hips began, the human toned skin blended into the dark, smooth seal-like fur. He didn’t have legs like a human. Instead it was almost like he was half man, half seal. The end of his tail was in the water so you couldn’t see the tip but could surmise it was also probably like a seal’s. Your eyes wandered over his body and you noticed the lack of a certain appendage.

Before you could ask, Chris pushed you through the water towards Felix.Your knees met the edge of the rocky incline and Chris made you climb up over Felix until you were face to face with him. “I think he needs some more attention,” Chris said as he backed away a short distance.

You looked over your shoulder at him. Felix grabbed your chin and turned you back towards him. “Eyes on me, angel,” he said in a soft but commanding tone. Without Chris nearby, he let his more dominant side come out. You nodded as his hand moved down to your throat, fingers flexing lightly around your neck before he slid his hand around to the back and pulled you into a messy kiss.

You allowed him to take the lead, one hand resting on the back of your neck as the other moved to pull you over him as he laid back against the rock. You let out a moan as your core came into contact with the smooth skin of where a groin would be on a human. There was a rather large bulge you were pressing against at the base of his torso.

Both his hands moved to your hips, guiding you to grind against him. The friction felt amazing since Chris hadn’t quite gotten you over the edge. “That’s it,” Felix whispered, breath hot against your lips. “Keep going.” Your body started to shudder as you chased your high. As you got closer, you felt something warm against your cunt.

“What’s that?” you asked breathlessly. “What do you think it is, baby?” Chris’ voice asked from right behind you. While your attention was focused on Felix, he’d managed to sneak up behind you. Your mind was sent reeling with the possibility of what you were feeling between your legs. It was warm, slick, and pulsating. “Use your brain, sweetheart,” Chris added, brushing his lips along your shoulder.

Using what crude knowledge you had of their anatomy, you figured it was potentially some sort of reproductive organ. “Is it…” your words failed you, heat rising to your cheeks. Would calling it a cock be appropriate? Was it even a penis? You couldn’t see it, only feel. “Is it what?” Felix asked, amusement in his voice as he tried to coax an answer out of you.

“Is it… a… dick?”

Chris chuckled, his hot breath fanning over your shoulder. “What else would it be?” Your cheeks burned even more as you realized you were caught between their bodies. “Well, I don’t know,” you whined. “I can’t see it.” 

You let out a squeak as Chris hauled you off Felix, pulling you back towards the water just far enough that you got an eyeful of Felix’s body. Your eyes widened as you took in what you were seeing. The bulge you had been rutting against had split open at a vertical slit in the middle revealing a long deep bluish-purple appendage. 

The base of it was slightly thicker, tapering up to a slightly flared and angled head. The color wasn’t uniform throughout, being more blue at the base and more purplish at the tip. It was long, maybe twenty centimeters from base to tip. If you had to guess the circumference, you’d say it was fifteen to seventeen centimeters.

“Are you just going to stare at it?” Chris whispered into your ear. “Or are you going to do something?”

His breath made a shiver run up your spine as you stared at Felix’s cock, walls clenching around nothing as it twitched. Without speaking, you pushed away from Chris, climbing back over Felix and crashing your lips against his, pushing him back against the rock.

Felix’s hands moved to your waist, groaning as you grinded against him. He guided your hips, grinding your clit against the underside of his cock. You whimpered into the kiss, rolling your hips faster. You pulled away, pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw as you heard water sloshing behind you.

“Settle down,” Chris said calmly. You lifted your head, looking back at him. “Make me,” you retorted. The moment the words left your lips, you regretted it as his hand darted between your thighs, two fingers pushing into your sex and making you moan. He held them there, feeling your walls contract tightly. “Oh, I think she’s ready,” Chris said, addressing Felix. “You’ll get your turn,” he explained as he moved behind you, grabbing your hips and holding you in place.

“What’re you —” you murmured, lifting your head only for Felix to grab your face and make you face him. “Eyes on me, angel,” he whispered, green eyes staring into your own. You stared back, admiring the freckles that dotted his cheeks and nose.

You let out a groan, eyes fluttering shut as you felt the head of Chris’ cock press against you. Having seen Felix’s, you hadn’t expected Chris’ to be much different but you momentarily forgot that Chris was the larger of the two. Chris pushed into you, the head breaching your entrance and making you gasp out in pain. Felix’s arms wrapped around you, holding your body against his.

“Relax,” he whispered into your ear as you buried your face in his neck, body shuddering and tensing violently. Chris made no attempt to move or remove himself, instead keeping perfectly still as your walls slowly adjusted. “It’s okay,” Felix cooed. “Just relax, baby.”

You took several deep breaths as you let your body slowly calm down, the tension in your muscles lessening as the stinging pain of Chris’ cock stretching your walls ebbed away. When he felt your body was lax enough, Chris pushed further into you, his thick cock sliding inside slowly.

Felix guided you through it, whispering words of encouragement into your ear and peppering light kisses on your cheek and shoulder. The pressure of his hard cock throbbing against your clit as Chris filled your cunt made you whimper. You felt the head of Chris’ cock kiss your cervix and he finally stopped.

“Hold onto her,” Chris said softly to the blond as he moved his hands to support his weight, palms flat against the rock. Felix’s arms around you tightened and before you could ask what was going on, you felt Chris start to pull from you, making you whine but as quickly as he retracted, his hips snapped forward, thrusting into you with a strength you didn’t expect.

You cried out both in shock and in pleasure, the wind being knocked from your lungs with the first powerful thrust. He set a steady, but bruising pace, pounding into you from behind. Each thrust made your hips rock forward, grinding your clit against Felix, making both of you moan.

You buried your face in Felix’s neck, muffling your cries of pleasure. The lewd squelching sound of Chris’ cock ramming into you repeatedly echoed around the cavern along with his grunts and Felix’s moans. You felt impossibly full of his cock, having never taken anything this big before and somehow he managed to fit all of it inside you.

“God,” you heard Chris groan. “You’re so beautiful when you’re fucked out under him,” Felix added, moving a hand to cup your cheek, chuckling breathlessly when you leaned into his warm palm.

Your walls spasmed around Chris’ cock as the orgasm that had been building since he had you on your back finally crashed over you, waves of bliss spreading throughout your body as if shuddered, your clit still grinding against the underside of Felix’s slick cock. His hips started to buck, grinding hard against you as he chased his own high.

“F-uck,” he groaned. “Gonna cum!”

His warning came just in time as you felt a warmth gush between your bodies as his release spilled out of him, painting his stomach and spilling onto the rock under him. His hold on you pulled you closer, this cum sticking to your body as well as Chris thrust harder into you, each movement erratic but still powerful as he neared the edge.

“Hold her still,” he growled, which Felix complied instantly, holding you in place as another orgasm washed over you, your cunt convulsing around Chris’ cock, taking him over the edge with you with a loud moan. Chris’ teeth sank into your shoulder as he came, muffling his growl as he released into you, his hot, thick cum coating your walls and spilling out of you.

He continued to move, thrusting and fucking his cum back into you until he stopped, burying his cock deep inside, the tip resting against your cervix as another surge of cum spilled into you. You could feel a small pressure build in the pit of your stomach, moaning as his cum spilled into your womb. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“She’s passing out,” you heard Felix murmur as he tilted your head, your eyes fluttering shut and their voices starting to fall to the background of your consciousness. “Clean her off,” you barely heard Chris say before everything went black.

When you came to, you were lying on your back, cool air hitting your skin. Your eyes opened abruptly and you sat up, looking around to find you were on the outskirts of your camp. The sun had long since set and the sky was littered with stars. You got up, looking down to find you were dressed in semi dry clothes. Your bag sat next to where you’d been lying.

You brushed yourself off and grabbed your bag, finding your canteen full of water. You stumbled back into camp, thighs sore as you looked around. You found your tent and walked over, unzipping it and peering inside. You slunk into it, turning to zip it shut and started to mull over what just happened.

Had you passed out from exhaustion and imagined the whole thing?

The ache between your thighs said otherwise. You opened your bag to check your things, grabbing your flashlight to inspect the contents. Nothing seemed to be missing as you pulled everything out until you saw a small note inside one of the small pockets. Placing the flashlight between your shoulder and jaw, you used both hands to hold the bag and pull out the paper, unfolding it before grabbing the flashlight and reading the note.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Lucien who now lives full time in the Day Court knowing the truth (think white robes and cold crown and makeup omg) and who has been in love with IC reader since getting to know her while he was there.

She's now visiting on some Night Court business (research, negotiation, etc.), and he's decided to put on his full Lucien teasing charm to woo her.

Sunlight in a Bowl.

Summary: Did he just... no. Of course not.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: I didnt realise how much i loved this idea until i wrote it 😭 thank you soo much my darling anon for sending in this request, i had soo much fun writing it lol, it was like it took no effort, came to me soo easy 🥹

also, posting this an hour early for funsies 🤭

i promised no angst so theres no angst @milswrites

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

The day court was beautiful.

That was all Y/n could think of as a sentry led her towards Helion's private receiving chambers, all other adjectives having flown out of her head the moment Azriel had dropped her on the border of Day court, from where she'd winnowed herself to the palace.

The white houses, the red and gold roofs, the sunlight shining from above and reflecting from pools of water and the Palace right in the center of it all, the colourful market in the town square...

It was safe to say Y/n was ready to move to Day court, already having forgotten that she was here on a mission from Rhysand.

She was ready, bags packed, no questions asked.

So busy was she gaping at the beautiful architecture of the palace, the artwork reigning her in like some trick of hypnotism, she didn't realise the sentry had come to a stop outside two large oak doors.

Unfortunately, that meant she smacked right into his back before she realised.

Her cheeks blazing, Y/n stumbled back as she glanced up at the male, who had an amused smile on his face.

"I merely stumbled. My dress is a little long."

He nodded. "Never said you did not stumble. I believe it must be hard to walk around in your too long knee length dress."

Blood rushed into Y/n's ears as she looked down at the dress that... only reached her knees, realising he was right.

Fuck.

She cleared her throat, standing at attention, avoiding his eyes.

From her peripherals, she could see him grinning as he knocked on the door, waiting until a voice called out to let them in.

The male opened the door, holding it open for Y/n. She hurried in, resisting the urge to just die as he closed the door behind her.

So much for making a good first impression.

Y/n shook her head, trying to dislodge the lump now forming in her throat at the upcoming conversation.

Being an introvert and shy was a hard job, one Y/n was very good at.

But being introverted and shy while being an emissary? Now that was the job of someone that Y/n would consider god.

And exactly why Y/n had been so against the idea of her becoming an emissary when Rhysand suggested it, knowing she would rather live a life alone in the middle of nowhere and probably become the next Weaver than become an emissary.

Alas, she was the only researcher Rhysand had at his disposal, so now she had been sent to read through as many libraries and books in day court as possible to aid in Feyre's second pregnancy.

It hadn't been confirmed yet whether the babe was winged, but Rhysand and the inner circle thought it best to start researching in advance just in case the babe did have wings and to prevent the second pregnancy ending up the same way the first did, and this time with no one to save them.

"Y/n! Always a pleasure to see you!" Y/n met the warm honey eyes that belonged to Helion, a smile spreading on her face unprompted.

"Helion." She greeted, walking forward and directly into his open and inviting arms, squeezing him back when he wrapped his arms around her.

"I hope the journey was not too hard?"

Y/n laughed, pulling away. "All I had to do was winnow, Helion, why would it be hard?"

Helion grinned, then turned to glance at something behind him.

With horror, Y/n realised that it was not something, it was someone.

Her panicked eyes shot to Helion, remembering that Rhys said Y/n wouldn't have to interact with anyone other than the day court high lord.

"Ah Y/n, meet my son, Lucien. Though I'm sure you've met before."

Y/n swallowed, then let her eyes wander to Lucien. Which, definitely not a good idea, considering Y/n was suddenly drooling and looking away like he had burned her eyes.

She had only looked at him for a moment, but that moment was enough for Y/n to have taken note of how ravishing he looked.

Ravishing?!? Get a grip Y/n.

Y/n attempted to calm her racing heartbeat by taking deep breaths, trying not to think of all the golden skin on display that was not covered by the white robe, the gold crown adorning the head of fiery red.

Trying especially hard not to think about the way his skin glowed with happiness and the beautiful, flirtatious smile adorning those plush, soft lips.

"We- we have met before."

"That's amazing! So if introductions are not needed, I'll take my leave."

Y/n knew her eyes were bulging out of her head at this point, but she did not really care as she gaped at Helion's retreating back. She continued to stare until he reached the doors, then turned to wink at her like he was in on a secret she was not.

Bastard.

Y/n, not knowing what to do, glanced at Lucien, who, in the perfect son-of-bastard way, sent her a cocky grin.

Y/n glared at him at that, pretending like the blush on her face was because of anger and not because she was shy.

"I don't know if Rhys informed you, but I will be helping you out today with the research."

Y/n's eyes widened, staring at him like he'd claimed to have met the Mother herself.

Which, Y/n would have been less surprised to hear, but that was the talk for another day.

"I- no one told me."

Lucien shrugged, that infuriating smile still on his face. "It came up last moment when my father had to leave to handle some important matters."

Y/n nodded sadly, mentally encouraging herself that she could do this.

With a sigh, she gestured at him. "Lead the way."

•○🌑○•

"Are you hungry yet?"

Y/n reigned in her sigh of exasperation.

For the past hour, Lucien had been hovering around Y/n, bothering her with stupid questions and trying to get her to go somewhere else. Where, Y/n could not for the life of her figure out.

She glanced up at him, finding his arms crossed over his chest, a careless grin on his face as he leaned against the desk she sat at.

She also noticed how he stood a little too close to just be acting like a caring host, but she ignored it, just like she ignored the bulging, mouth watering muscles in his arms.

"I am sorry Lucien, but my stomach does not consider me worthy of food at the moment. I will let you know once it decides I deserve to eat."

He laughed at that, his head thrown back, his chest vibrating with how genuine the sound was.

Y/n's eyes dropped to the strong column of his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he glanced back down to her, grinning. Y/n noticed the dimple that made an appearance in his cheeks, but she pretended she was still mad at his constant nagging and turned back to the thick bound tomes she had open in front of her.

Y/n got a moment of reprieve before he drew her attention again.

But this time he did not ask her if she was hungry or if she was thirsty.

No, he pushed off from the table, and Y/n watched him from the corner of her eyes as he walked to the back of her chair.

She was curious, of course she was, but also glad that he would let her do her studies.

Also sad that he was leaving, but no one needed to know that.

But suddenly, two arms were caging her in against the table, and Y/n startled at the sudden heat of being caged against the wood by someone who quite literally had the heat of autumn court fire in his blood and the warmth of day court sun in his blood.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n yelped, trying to keep quiet in the library.

His breath tickled the hair at the side of her neck as he leaned in.

"I am just wanting to inquire when your stomach will deem you worthy of eating."

"Oh my god." Y/n mumbled, her blood tinting her face red. "Stop it Lucien!"

"Not until you tell me you will go out to eat with me. Tell me, will giving you the sun in a bowl convince you?"

Y/n only kept getting redder in the face, and to try to cover it up, she slapped her hands over her face.

He tsked. "That sounded like it hurt."

Y/n paused for a moment, then mumbled out- "It did."

He laughed again, and something about having him so close to her, so free and vulnerable did things to Y/n. She spread her fingers, peeking out to find his eyes closed, his teeth glinting softly in the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows.

She stared at him, slowly letting her hands fall into her lap, not realising she was staring.

Or maybe not caring.

His laughter slowly died down, the sound still ringing softly in Y/n's ears until it faded away.

He met her eyes, happier than Y/n had ever seen, and gave her a soft smile.

"So?"

Y/n sighed, the sound so exaggerated she would have laughed any other time.

"Fine."

For good measure, Y/n rolled her eyes at him before she turned back to the dusty tomes sitting on the rich wood desk.

She could practically feel his grin as he dipped closer, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Y/n's eyes flew wide, turning to gape at him as he straightened.

"So, a bowl of sunlight. In the receiving room before sunset?"

Y/n choked out an okay.

The bastard had the audacity to wink at her as he turned and strutted away, his careless demeanour already enchanting Y/n's malfunctioning brain.

She watched his retreating back until she couldn't anymore, then straightened to stare at the words that now made no sense to Y/n because she was so busy trying not to think about the plans she now had for the evening.

Did he just...

Y/n blinked, glancing once to the archway he'd just disappeared into.

Did he just ask me out on a date?

Y/n shook her head.

No, it was just not possible.

Lucien? Asking Y/n out on date?

Y/n wanted to laugh at herself for even thinking that. Lucien would never...

Fuck.

Despite herself, Y/n began to smile, and hope.

What have I gotten myself into?

It was going to be hurting her brain to think so much about it, but she couldn't care less about it.

Still smiling, Y/n returned to her work, now trying to stop focusing on him and start doing the thing she was actually here for.

It's going to be a long day.

•○🌑○•

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria

Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @fell-in-luvs @tele86

whore hive: @clairebear08 @readychilledwine @riddlesb1tch @berryzxx @thehighladywrites @artists-ally

[willowser]

now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to. 

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin’?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress. 

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought. 

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek. 

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon. 

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his  heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

[thegnomelord]

if you want to do super angst, price and the 141 getting called away and leaving hound at a secure location because he’s nowhere near being ready to go back out on the field.

price thinks the rehab has been going well until the 141 are all captured and after hours of sitting in a dingy cell not even worrying about himself, worrying about you instead, either 2 things can happen:

someone walks in the cell with a recording of makarov’s men storming the ‘secure’ location, a clear picture of makarov amongst them and price can only watch in horror as they find you and you put up no resistance when makarov cradles your head, slipping a collar back around your neck as you follow him along like the loyal hound you were

or

he comes face to face with makarov, hatred fuelling his veins as he tries to escape from his bindings but with a simple whistle you walk through the door, barely even looking at price with eyes only on makarov as he commands you to sit in russian and you instantly drop to your knees, looking up at makarov for praise

Anon you and me are sharing brain waves lol I do have something like this in mind and I will 10000% be using this idea :Dd. And like Makarov putting the collar on, then telling you to shoot the psychiatrist that's been helping you heal and your mind stutters to try and think of a reason why you shouldn't, tries to not do it, but your body just moves on instinct to do what you're ordered to. Because Makarov's had YEARS to condition your body to react how he wants to, but your mind has only now started to heal.

God Hound's mental health is gonna be in the dumpster with these highs and lows. Just starting to heal and grasp the extent of what you went through only for it to come crashing down with just one order from Makarov. I'm a really big sucker for "it's gonna get way worse before it gets better." Trope.

Random idea that may or may not happen: Hound manages to break off from Makarov's influence/or his mind like won over his body and tries to protect the 141. So like Hound betrays Makarov, you're bleeding, and you just beg Price to please just kill you. Haven't you done enough? Haven't you been through enough? Bad dogs like you deserve to be put down.

And price, selfish as he is, just couldn't live with himself if he failed you again.

[zombyjuice]

NOBODY BETTER THAN YOU! - eunseok.🍨🦷🐆🍦 t(>.<t)

In which your boyfriend you recently just got back together with is coming over for the first time since.

bf!eunseok x fem loser!reader

toxic relationship, fluff, angst, smut! suggestions to the reader having depression (NOT ROMANIZING.) suggested cheating. etc..

so many things inspired/helped me make this so I’m just gonna . @melobin and @anquelic on insta and my playlist below took inspo from there too <33 lol!

“Eunseoks here…” one of your roommates sneered from the other side of the door you could almost feel the face they gave eachother. You hop up and rush to open your door with a wide smile on your face “Hey baby” your boyfriend, walking towards you, a hand in one pocket and a bag of Burger King in the other an extremely attractive smile on his face “hii” you practically melted pulling him into your room and hugging him tight.

“Please don’t fuck yet! Give it a week!”

“shut the fuck up!”

He chuckled kissing your forehead and pinching your sides, you loved it when he did that, made you feel so safe you could practically feel your heart melt watching his movements as he placed the bag on your table.

That feeling goes away in an instant as you watch him sigh as he moves some of your clutter to the side. This made your heart flutter with sadness and your brain go a bit fuzzy.

He understands you more than anybody really, he’s patient and he does seem to care for you, he understood all those months before you guys were ever official you’d disappear trying to decide if he’s the one and if you should give him the chance.

He understood the nights where you’d just sit in silence not wanting to be touched or talked to, and he understood the nights you guys would be talking like normal only for you to start crying out of nowhere, or the nights you’d scream and push him losing your temper only to end up in his arms letting him watch you crumble under him. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay I've got you, doing so well for daddy” “‘m not mad at you, okay pretty, it's okay”. He understood the nights when you were finally your silly self after spending a weekend alone.

He understood all your quirks and interests. Once he dragged you to one of his sets because he remembered someone working on it had a dog who understood multiple languages, remembering your rather odd fascination with it how. can they do that? And watching as you said sit to the dog in Spanish, French, and Japanese, complete shock and happiness painted on your face as you laughed and laughed, adoration painted on his.

So how is it that you caught him multiple times all over the girl, the same girl he had a pass with, rumor has it they were “casually” sleeping together before you ever entered the picture you know it was deeper than that. To him “it wasn’t that big of a deal and he was just being nice.” You had to constantly shift your morals just so you could be happy with him, he knew you hated it, he knew the disgust you felt with yourself every time you’d go back with him. But you loved him so it's alright.

You knew the irritation and anger that bubbled up inside of him when you'd ask “Are you unhappy in our relationship?” or “Am I annoying you? I'm sorry” but he loves you so he's got to deal with it, right?

And no matter how many times you believed he cheated he was stable, nothing in your life is stable but him. So maybe that’s why you feel you always go back to him. And only him. Because, to you, there's nobody better than him.

He turned to you already able to read your face “It's alright, today's our lazy Sunday isn't it? We'll clean a bit tomorrow but for now, cmere let's lie down”

The smile that was once on your face came back and you gladly took his hand as he led you to your bed and cozy. Watching some of your favorite horror movies and munching on Burger King you between his legs a hands squishing your thighs and head dropping down to your neck every now and then to suck a hickey at your favorite spots your hands would grab at his knees as you whimper and giggle. “quit it, they’re finally escaping”. He'd quietly pout and slightly rut his hips up against you visibly hard.

{2:49 am}

Your eyes meet your boyfriends and grab at his hand that's hitching up your inner thigh, yours visibly smaller “Should we play some-” he smashed his lips against yours, your first actual kiss of the night “fuck I know we said we wouldn't do anything, but shit you look so good, sound so good, need to fuck my babies in you, make you mine forever” he grabbed at your neck and slid it down to your arm, manhandling you under him.

You could only submit to him, knowing this would have happened by the end of the “night”.

“Can’t believe I spent so many Sundays without you, felt so wrong, I’ve missed you so much” he'd moan against your lips grabbing at your thighs and aggressively pushing them up as he grinds against you, whimpers slipping out of you “missed you so much more” you’d whisper mind going elsewhere remembering exactly why you spent so many night away from each other’s grasp.

“Let me fuck away all that nonsense,only have you think about this cock” as if he could read your mind “please”.

And just like that he’d do exactly what he said.

[glimmeringtwilight]

Daffodils p2 | Yandere Diluc x Reader x Dottore

this might be incoherent. i still dislike the ending but atp if i keep chipping away i'm going to abandon it lol

CW: referenced reader death (from p1), angst, captivity, yandere themes, body horror (mild for. y'know. my usual), minor character death, NSFW (not super explicit, and no specific wordage for uuu parts), cuckholding, blood, non-consensual voyeurism (diluc), dubcon, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms (do not imitate)

Word Count: 2.6k

It’s a dreary autumn day when the master of the winery returns with you in tow.

The manor is quiet, still as the Snezhnayan winter that he trekked through for the past several sleepless days and nights to get you. More quiet, however, is you, who hasn’t spoken a word since Diluc dragged you out of that dimly lit, dilapidated lab stinking of chemicals that he found you in. 

He’s tried everything he knows on the journey back. You didn’t struggle once as he carried you back home– didn’t try to run when he’d rest with you in his arms– but you didn’t say a single thing to him no matter how hard he tried to get you to speak.

That’s fine. It’s shock, he supposes. He doesn’t know what that madman did to you, and if he didn’t have such precious cargo he would have gone back there and burned that place to the ground; charring the snowy, lifeless landscape surrounding it. 

But he has you. He has you now, and that’s all that matters. Even if your skin has lost some of its color now, dull and cold. Even if there’s a quiet ticking in your chest in place of a heartbeat. Even if you only ever look through him, now. It’s enough. 

This is what Diluc tells himself as he returns you to the room that had been your prison for months, as he dusts off the bars of your gilded cage before locking you back inside. 

You don’t say anything. But it’s enough, just having you. It’s enough, he thinks.

Adelinde keeps checking in on him now that he’s returned. Her face is always pinched with a quiet concern when she speaks to him, and the servants in the manor part like the sea against jagged stone when he walks past them in the halls. 

The estate seems to hold its breath around him; no longer a ghost, but perhaps something worse. As though the light he’d held against the darkness was snuffed out, and the shadow cast in its wake was long. But he’s fine. He swears it. He’s fine, now that you’re back. He’ll be perfect for you, the perfect gentleman; the man he swore he was but could never seem to be, before.

It’s enough to just have you. To hold you every night as he lays next to you, still in your bed like a corpse, listening to the ticking in your chest like a clock counting down to nowhere. Diluc finds himself dreading the ticking and seeking it out all the same.

Weeks pass like this, with Diluc unraveling slowly as he tries to cling to the crumbling memory of you, bastardized by his selfishness and immortalized in the husk of you he keeps locked in your room. 

None of the servants are allowed to see you. He hears them at night, whispering to each other when they think he’s gone to sleep. 

“He’s lost his mind.”

“Are they even alive, in there? I haven’t seen them at all. Adelinde said they–”

“Keep your voice down– are you trying to wake him?”

He hasn’t lost his mind. He has you here now, to ground him, to make him whole. Even if your body seems to be crumbling, tearing apart with every passing day.

You don’t say anything anymore. You don’t eat, but you choke down whatever food he forces down your throat, teeth clacking against silverware as you stare off into nothing. Most of his days are spent taking care of you, keeping you together, stoking the fireplace in your room to keep you warm.

You don’t seem to mind the cold, but he still forces you to sit by the fire, warming you up in a facsimile of living flesh. He tries everything– cleaning you carefully every morning before dressing you, tending to the sutures that never seem to heal.

But he can’t seem to bring you back fully. Can’t seem to warm the skin that cools quickly when you’re not kept by the fire, can’t seem to wipe that glassy look from your eyes, can’t seem to drown out the ticking in your chest.

Adelinde comes home one day from running errands to find all of the clocks in the estate smashed and left out on the front steps, some of the servants already tending to the mess as the master of the estate slips back inside the manor like a shadow of the setting sun. 

He can’t figure it out. You won’t talk to him, won’t hardly look at him unless he takes you by the jaw and forces you. He can barely stand to hold you.

It’s enough. It’s enough. It’s enough. 

But he knows it isn’t. He can’t bear living with the ghost of you, settling for the corpse he keeps in his bed. He wants you to smile at him like you used to. Needs to hear your voice again. Holding you close while you’re still so far from him is driving him mad. 

It’s another dreary day when he finally breaks. Rain pours against the roof of the estate, blazing trails down the window panes. You’re sat by the fire again as you always are, most days. 

Diluc kneels at your feet, his head buried against your knees as he begs you to speak.

“I love you,” He says. He reaches up, pressing a trembling hand against your cold cheek. He can’t seem to chase the snow out of you. You don’t respond. He tries again. “I love you.”

Your eyes flick to his, the barest indication of life in them– but you look through him all the same, as you have been for weeks, now. He sits up, eyes wild, and leans over you, grasping your face desperately. He can’t bear to look at it anymore.

Diluc pulls you close, burying his face against your nape and gritting his teeth at the smell of chemicals clinging to you. You still smell like that place. Like chemicals. Like the Doctor. No matter how many times he bathes you, no matter how hard he scrubs. It’s there. Always there. Faint, but still there. 

“Please come back to me,” He whispers, clutching you against his chest like you’ll slip through his fingers at any moment. …Like you haven’t already. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

For the first time in weeks, you speak. Your voice is hoarse, quiet and wispy from disuse. It’s like the sun peeking through the clouds after a long storm, a refreshing wind–

“Take me back.” You rasp, and his blood runs cold. When he doesn’t respond, you repeat yourself. “Take me back.”

Diluc stays there a minute, gasping through clenched teeth as grief and anger rattle through him. You don’t mean it. You can’t. You let out a quiet, pained sound from how tight his grip on you has gotten, and he pulls away like he’s been burned. 

He can’t look at you. There’s a ticking behind your chest, behind his ears– whatever it is the Doctor replaced your heart with– he can’t unhear it. Without a word, he leaves swiftly, locking the door behind him as he goes. 

When he returns, the fire in the hearth has dimmed to embers, and you’re still perched exactly how he left you. Like a doll. He breathes a shuddering sigh and moves you to the bed, laying you down and tucking you in with all the tenderness and care his trembling hands can manage. 

Instead of begging you to speak, he slips out of the room again, instructing Adelinde to look after you while he’s gone. 

He knows how to fix this: it must be your heart. Must be that facsimile of a beating heart stuffed into your chest that’s causing you to act so hollow and lifeless. If he can just find it, he can bring you back. He’s sure of it. 

Diluc journeys for another several days and nights, returning to the lab he’d found you in and tearing the place apart until he finds what he was looking for– your heart, preserved in formaldehyde and kept in a jar like some sort of sickening keepsake. 

There’s no sign of the Doctor anywhere, but Diluc doesn’t have enough mercy left in his heart to spare for the Fatui grunts unfortunate enough to get caught in his path. Blood stains his jacket an even deeper shade of red, sinking into the stitching deep enough that he’s certain even Adelinde wouldn’t be able to remove the stains. 

He burns the place down once he’s finished, true to his word, leaving the smoldering building behind as he makes the journey back with bloodstained boots and clothes, carrying the final piece of you; the missing puzzle piece in his hands.

Biting winds at his back keep his pace hurried as he rushes home; he has barely slept by the time he finally returns, the sun rising over the peaceful estate of the winery like a promise of hope. 

He’s delirious and exhausted from hardly pausing to rest throughout the entire journey home, but he has it– he has what he knows will fix you, bring the light back into your glassy eyes. 

The manor is quiet when he steps inside, and Diluc freezes when he sees Adelinde’s body laying at the bottom of the stairs, neck twisted at an unnatural angle and her expression frozen in horror. 

No-

His first instinct is to find you, stepping over Adelinde’s body despite the pang of grief that lances through his chest. Every step only turns his blood cooler in his veins, cutting through exhaustion and delirium like a blade.

The door to your bedroom is cracked and he throws it open, freezing as he sees what’s there.

You’re smiling. For the first time since he lost you, you’re smiling, eyes crinkled with warmth as the number two of the Fatui Harbingers looms over you like a malaise.

Floorboards singe underfoot, but Diluc isn’t given time to act before hands snatch his arms, ripping his Vision from him and tossing it aside. Whatever angered curse he was going to say is cut off by another pair of hands shoving a gag into his mouth, and it takes several agents to drag him into the room and force him into the chair set up by the bed.

There’s the sound of breaking glass as the struggle knocks the precious cargo he’d carried all this way from his hands, shattering against the floor. Whatever grief he may have felt at the sound  is drowned out by the sight of you as the Fatui grunts forcibly sit him down in the chair and start to tie him down. 

Rope cuts into his wrists and his legs as he’s tied to the chair; two of the pyro agents stay behind to keep him from thrashing or knocking the chair over as the rest slink back into the hallway. 

It isn’t until the last of the rope is secured, leaving the frazzled wine tycoon seething from behind the gag but unable to do much else, that Dottore finally speaks up. 

“I’m glad you could finally join us, Master Diluc,” The Doctor drawls, words dripping with condescension and cyanide. “I was beginning to worry.”

A knowing smile tugs at Dottore’s lips when he turns to see Diluc’s expression, distress creased in the lines of his brow as his attention remains fixated solely on you. 

Diluc sees now. That bastard is sitting in your bed, the bed you’re meant to share with him, as gloved fingers lazily toy with your nipples. The clothes you were wearing are haphazardly strewn about the floor. 

Dottore readjusts. Takes hold of your legs and wraps them loosely around his hips as he situates himself more comfortably on the bed. Diluc feels nausea roiling in his gut.

He can’t tear his eyes away when Dottore’s fingers drift downward, tracing over your stomach before dipping between your thighs. The soft sound you make burns him. 

It’s torture, listening to you. He’d wanted so desperately for any sound from you– anything at all– these past few weeks, but not like this. Not while you’re looking up at that monster like he’s the moon– the most life Diluc’s seen in your eyes in weeks– as he defiles you. 

Every noise seems to chip a piece of him away, cutting deeper than any blade could hope to manage.

As much as it rends him to watch, he can’t tear his eyes away, taking in the sight of you shuddering and moaning softly in response to another man’s touch. 

Something acrid and bitter swells in his chest– he can’t help but think that if it weren’t for him, you’d never be here. If he hadn’t stolen you, held on too tight so that you’d run away the first chance you’d gotten, you never would have died… Never would have wound up under the Doctor, on his operating table or in this bed.

Worse, still, is the selfish insistence he still feels. If he hadn’t taken you, he fears the worst may have happened to you– as though the worst hadn’t already come true. He did all of this to protect you– yet he’d failed to do even that. 

You eventually shudder in a way Diluc recognizes and he sags against the chair, feeling something crack inside him. This is killing him. As much as pain rips through his chest, he can’t help but cling to that rending heartache, tolerate it if it means he gets to see you smile again. You’re still in there– not a doll, not a ghost.

He loves you; he always will. Even this will never make him hate you– it’s not your fault that you’ve been caught up in the jaws of a monster. It’s not your fault that he’d failed you. 

Dottore adjusts, and whatever self-loathing Diluc had felt starts to wither at the sound of rustling fabric. No. No- 

He tries to thrash in his chair, held down by the two agents standing behind him with a firm grip on his shoulders. He tries to turn away, to close his eyes and shut out the world as the whimper from you that follows sears him like a brand. Hands dig into his jaw, prod at his eyelids with a force that threatens to blind him until he unwillingly opens them again. 

Months ago, when Diluc thought you’d finally settled, finally adjusted to your new life here, there was the barest beginnings of warmth in your eyes. Acceptance. Love, his heart hoped. He’s reminded of that again; you have the same embers of warmth in your gaze as you once did before the sky fell. 

That same look you’d once given him, but now it’s directed at the monster grinning down at you. He never thought that warmth could ruin him, but the grief that settles into his bones is a worse pain than one he’s ever known. 

The hope that he’d journeyed home with withers and dies at his feet like the heart the Doctor had stolen from you– to know it wasn’t merely literal is agony. His greed had been the undoing of you both. 

In the garden, the daffodils had died months ago; it was the end of their season. They’d planted sunflowers near where your grave once was instead, but those are dying too, afflicted by some disease or pest. 

Diluc had once hoped you’d go out into the garden to see them, but ever since he’d brought the ghost of you home you’ve only ever haunted this one room; days spent staring at the hearth instead of out the window like you’d used to. 

Jealousy is ugly and loud in his head, clinging to his throat like tar.

Perhaps he’s damned; he wishes that you hadn’t found the light that he’d stolen from you in another man.

[moni-logues]

Deer Tracks

Pairing: Namjoon x f. reader (Suri); A Fine Line couple

Genre: slice of life? a little angst a little fluff? established relationship

Summary:

Beautiful, sobbing high-geared fucking and then to lie silently like deer tracks in the freshly-fallen snow beside the one you love. That's all. (Deer Tracks, by Richard Brautigan)

Word count: 3.2k

Content: implicit smut (piv), that's really it tbh

A/N: Anon, this is for yoooooouuuu! And for anyone else who loves the AFL couple like I do lol my first babies, my special little creatures haha. I have genuinely had this bonus chapter/drabble/whatever you want to call it in mind since I finished writing the series. I have thought of it SO often and, truthfully, never got to the end, never quite figured out in my head how I was going to pull it together. But I'm happy with what I did and I hope you are too!!! Also shout out to sunny for finding this poem for me when I couldn't months and months ago.

*~*

You lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, legs swishing idly against the sheets, as if making snow angels out of them, but only the bottom half. And there was no snow. And you weren’t having fun. Sleep wouldn’t come. You had learnt that. It wouldn’t come until the smallest hours of the morning, when exhaustion finally gripped you and pulled you under. Then you would wake a few hours later, unrested, and do it all again. 

It was self-inflicted. You knew that, too. You knew that you were doing this to yourself. You were sleeping in your own bed. Namjoon slept next door. You didn’t have to wonder if he was asleep because you could faintly make out the sound of his snoring even through the wall.  

Things weren’t going well and you weren’t dealing with it. You were making it Namjoon’s problem, making yourself Namjoon’s problem. He knew it was happening. You knew it was happening. He didn’t have the power to stop you. You didn’t think you did, either. Even though you wanted to. You could feel all your worst instincts clawing at you, invisible hands crawling over the edge of the bed to pull you apart, pull your life apart. You wanted to resist them and you wanted them to devour you, both at the same time.  

You loved him. You were in love with him. That was the problem. That was the thing that kept you up at night. The anxiety of it screamed at you and, sometimes, you could block it out; sometimes, he would kiss you and you would melt into him and everything felt golden; other times, more often recently, he would kiss you and you’d feel sick. Sick because you wanted to escape. Sick because you wanted him to stop seeing you. Sick because you loved him. Sick because he made you happier than you thought you would ever be again. Sick because it all terrified you.  

So you pulled away. You pulled yourself back into your shell, set up spikes around it, were erratic and irrational about who got access to you and when.  

You were sleeping in your own bed.  

* 

Namjoon had, weeks ago now, planned a sweet winter getaway. Just a long weekend. There was astronomical stuff happening: a big moon, some meteors, something that he would tell you about as you sat, breath puffing in front of you, huddled together outside a cabin, looking at it all. He had said you wouldn’t be able to see it well in the city; he was going to book somewhere remote, where the sky would be dark and clear. You had wondered why it mattered so much but matter it did, to Namjoon, so you had agreed, looked forward to it.  

Until you had realised you loved him. Until he had come home one day, late and tired, and a choir had started singing in your heart. There had been nothing special about that day, not at all, but you had looked at him and he had smiled at you—crinkly-eyed and deep-dimpled—and something inside you had bloomed. It was love. It was horror. 

* 

You wanted him to cancel. To say, ok this is a bad idea, let’s not go and spend 72 hours in each other’s company with no escape and nowhere else to go. Because you wouldn’t say it but you didn’t want to go. You were fighting with yourself not to run, not to scarper, not to dig yourself a hole in the ground and live there instead. You could convince yourself you were coping while you had work to distract you with (and Namjoon had his work, too). But a weekend in the country? You wouldn’t be able to get away from it if you couldn’t get away from him.  

There was a slightly tentative knock at the door. 

“Yeah?” you called. 

Namjoon poked his head around.  

“I know we talked about heading up a little later but they’re forecasting snow so I think we should get an earlier train, is that ok?” 

No. 

“What time is that?” 

“Probably around 9.” 

“Ok.” 

He nodded, hesitated at the door for a second, then nodded again, leaving you to it. You felt sick again. Terrified. Half of you wanted to run out to him, to tell him to please never, ever let you go. Half of you wanted to run.  

* 

The train was slow because the forecast had been partially right: it was snowing, but it was snowing earlier and heavier than predicted. The journey from the train station to the cabin was even worse. Namjoon couldn’t drive; somehow, you had gone all this time not knowing that. You had also forgotten that he had mentioned something about renting a car when he first brought up this trip.  

You hadn’t driven for years. Hadn’t needed to. Wouldn’t have been able to afford a car anyway. You were anxious. You were already anxious and now you had to drive winding roads on forested hills while the snow fell thick like cotton balls.  

“I’m not fucking doing it,” you said, as you and Namjoon stood outside the car rental place.  

“We don’t have any other way of getting there.” 

“Taxi?” 

“They won’t go. I already asked.” 

“Well then how do we get there? I'm not fucking driving.” 

“Suri, plea-” 

“No! I said no! I hate driving. I can’t drive! I won’t!” 

“You said you have a licence.” 

“Yes, I have a licence but I haven’t needed it for years. You seriously expect me to drive in this? I’ll kill us both.” 

Namjoon pulled his beanie from his head with a sigh and then fixed it back in place.  

“I’m sorry. This was not how I planned it. I didn’t know the weather would be this bad, but can you please drive? We can take it slow—everyone else will be driving slowly, too. I promise it’ll be worth it when we get there.” 

You knew it was an argument you couldn’t win because, short of going straight back home, there were no other options. With the way the snow was falling, it was even possible that there wouldn’t be any trains running anyway. You offered him your best scowl and stomped inside to pick up the keys. You wanted to argue, but you wanted to get out of the cold. 

* 

The journey was almost painfully tense. Driving, as it turned out, was quite a lot like riding a bike and, even with the snow, you coped pretty well: drove carefully, took corners slowly, made it to the cabin in a little under an hour. But you held onto your anger like a security blanket. It was, in some ways, a relief to be able to cling to it, rather than being tossed about in the waves of your anxiety. Anger was safe. Anger kept people away. Kept Namjoon away.  

You were hoping for blessed relief from the cold. You were expecting to open the door and be hit with a wall of warmth, fire lit, heating on, a small side lamp illuminating just enough of the space that you could find your way to the light switch. 

It was dark. It was just as cold inside as it was out. You stood in the entry way and clenched your teeth together while Namjoon fumbled with the thermostat.  

“I’m hungry,” you announced when nothing more had happened a minute later. 

“Ok, yeah, we can eat in a sec. Let me just figure this out.” 

“What do we have to eat?” 

“I don’t know, babe; I think there’s something in that bag.” 

Namjoon gestured vaguely to the pile of bags next to you, which told you nothing. You inhaled, preparing to heave an aggrieved sigh when Namjoon straightened and looked at you. 

“I know, ok? I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t like I wanted it to be either.”  

Sentences short, clipped, like he was fighting his own frustration. He probably was. You were being a brat. You knew it. You were making yourself his problem. You were pushing buttons.  

Somehow, this time, it didn’t feel like victory. It felt like defeat.  

You let your sigh fall and stomped past him, flopping onto the sofa still in all your winter stuff. He turned back to the thermostat. 

* 

It remained tense and quiet for the rest of the evening and when you (fully clothed with a jumper and socks on) slipped into bed next to Namjoon (also fully clothed), you had deflated. You couldn’t sustain your anger that long, not when Namjoon didn’t fight back.  

“I’m sorry,” you said, chewing on the inside of your lip, eyes cast down.  

Namjoon leant over and pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“I’m sorry, too. This isn’t what I wanted.”  

You bit harder on your lip when you felt it wobble.  

“I just thought it would be nice to get away. The sky isn’t even fucking clear because of the snow. I should’ve planned this be-” 

“No,” you said, interrupting. “I’m just being pissy.” 

“Yeah...” He paused. “About that-” 

“I’m sorry.”  

You didn’t want him to ask, didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to have to admit it, finally, that you loved him. Certainly not after that day.  

“I...”  

You hesitated because you could feel your heart thumping and that prickling sensation on your skin that said you were stripping yourself bare. “It’s just me. It’s not you. I... I’m not trying to be a dick. Well, I guess, I-... I’m sorry.”  

You risked a glance at him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. He pressed another kiss into your hair. You closed your eyes and felt your limbs loosen, something inside of you unlocking, allowing you to relax into the warmth of his body.  

“It’s ok,” he whispered. “As long as you’re here.” 

You nodded.  

“I’m here.” 

You raised your face as he went to kiss your head again and he caught your eyebrow. You didn’t give him the opportunity to laugh or say anything; you put your lips against his, turned your body towards him, and hoped you could say without saying the thing that burnt inside you. 

* 

It somehow felt like it had been a long time. That the nights that had passed since the last time he was between your thighs had stretched into weeks, elongated themselves in your memory and your body, so that every touch, every movement felt like remembering. Felt like something almost lost but found again. Felt, as it always did, like something coming together within you. Never more in your body than when he was, too. It grounded you. It brought you closer to yourself, closer to him, as though they were one and the same.  

“F-uck!” you cried, gasping and panting as you tried to hold on, wanting this to last.  

You were so close to it, to letting all that pleasure wash over you, drown you, take you under, but you didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to let this pass. You wanted to stay in this moment, this perfect moment, where it was just you and him and everything you did best.  

If it passed, you would have to confront it again: the fear, the terror that your love placed inside you.  

“Shit,” you swore again, but it wasn’t pleasure this time. It was frustration because you’d thought about it. Because now you were thinking about it.  

You shut your eyes. You couldn’t look at him without that painful heart swelling, that effulgent warmth that enveloped you, followed by the ice-cold trickle of anxiety. You loved him. You loved him. You loved him.  

Did he love you? Could he? Could anyone?  

Your breath hitched and you tightened your fingers around Namjoon’s arm, nails digging into his soft flesh. You could feel it welling, this feeling, these tears, brimming in your eyes, sticking to your lashes. 

The moment the first fell was the moment it all came loose. You came, cursing and crying, your body writhing, Namjoon firm and solid and stable around you. You came, hot and harried, clutching him to you like a buoy, as he held you secure and safe as he always had. You came unfastened, unbuckled, apart at the seams, flopping into him, just crying now, just crying.  

“Baby...”  

His voice was as soft as his body was not.  

“Are you ok?” 

You nodded, desperate for him to believe you as you continued to sob. He placed a hand on your head, stroking gently, the other rubbing small circles into your back.  

“It’s ok,” he whispered. “You’re ok.” 

And you loved him more because that was all he said. He didn’t push you for answers, didn’t make you reassure him. He held you and soothed you and let you be sweaty and naked and messy in his arms.  

You were shivering with the cold before the tears on your cheeks had dried. You both wordlessly re-dressed and snuggled under the bedsheets, still clinging to each other. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.  

You knew he already knew the answer. No.  

“I’m fine,” you answered, muffled against his hoodie.  

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?”  

You nodded, because it was easier to just say yes now, to push the issue into the future. You could avoid it then, too.  

* 

Sleep didn’t come. You knew it wouldn’t, even though the cold made you tired, even though you could still feel Namjoon in every one of your muscles. You looked at Namjoon, at his face, peaceful as he slept. Not snoring, not right now. Tipped on his side, broad shoulders curled inwards. You thought about what he might see if your places were reversed. Did you look cute as you slept? Could he have lain and felt like he could look at you forever? Did it make his blood feel sweet inside him, having you close to him?  

It felt impossible. Too easy. Everyone had said it was. Namjoon had said it was. Some of it had been easy, you thought. Maybe. The parts where it was you and him and no one else. The parts when you forgot to be self-conscious, forgot to supervise yourself so strictly. The parts when you just let yourself have it—happiness—even if you didn’t think you deserved it. 

You looked towards the window, where that curious glow of snow was sneaking around the edges of the curtains. It was still dark outside, but snow had a light of its own somehow, a peculiar way of shining by itself.  

You slipped carefully out of bed, wrapping your arms around yourself, and went to look. You pulled the curtain back and it was still snowing. Fat flakes fluttering slowly to the ground which was perfectly smooth and white. Unblemished. Untarnished. A blank slate. 

You looked at the dark lump of Namjoon’s body under the covers. You were a blank slate. You had said that. Namjoon brought colour onto it. You had said that. You looked out at this perfect snowfall, the silent padding as it placed itself gently on the ground. A blank slate. Beautiful. No one had disturbed it. Not even a creature.  

You had thought of your blank slate as empty. Blank because it held nothing. Blank with a freedom that scared you because you had been worn down and made to fear it. Your blankness made you hollow and worthless.  

But this snow wasn’t. It was full. It was generous. It was giving itself to the earth. You had chosen. You had made your choice and it was Namjoon. Was always going to be Namjoon from the moment you had met him. And you had stopped fighting that.  

You thought you had stopped fighting it but you had only paused. You stopped fighting it until you started again, until love blossomed in your heart just as everything on the surface started to bury itself underground. The richness and fullness of your own spring felt wrong, at odds with the earth and at odds with what you knew. What you had come to expect. What you had come to believe was all you would ever have.  

You looked at the snow. You looked at Namjoon. You practised. 

“I love you,” you said, barely more than mouthing the words but they still felt loud in the blanketed silence of the room. “I love you.”  

You looked at the snow. Still perfect. Fewer flakes coming down now, the sky no longer heavy with clouds. You had been so intent on the snow that you hadn’t noticed the moon: bigger and brighter than you’d seen it before. This was what Namjoon had wanted to see.  

“Hey,” you said, gently shoving against his shoulder.  

He groaned, rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes. 

“What’s up?” 

“Come.” 

You tugged on his hand, pulled him out of bed. 

“Look,” you urged, pointing at the moon.  

Namjoon’s response was hummed as he adjusted to being awake. He shivered and pulled you into his body, back to his chest, arms around your waist.  

“The moon,” he said eventually. 

“Yeah, the super one.” 

“Frosty.” 

“Huh?” 

“Uh, it’s called the Frosty moon, I think. If I were awake, I’d remember.” 

You smiled and placed your hands over his, leaning your head back against him. 

“I love you.” 

Namjoon laughed and you froze, rigid as he let you go, as he turned you around. His hands moved to your face and he kissed you, warm and soft, a smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“I love you,” he replied, kissing you once more before he laughed again. “I fucking love you.” 

“You do?” Your voice was whisper thin, air caught in your throat. 

“Yes, I do! I love you!” 

The bubble of worry in your chest popped and it all disappeared, all that fear, all that doubt. He loved you. He fucking loved you.  

“I love you,” you repeated, looking at him this time.  

Even in the early-morning darkness, you could see his eyes sparkle, see the dimples in his cheeks. He mouthed the words back at you, picked you up and carried you back over to the bed. He wrapped himself tightly around you, lips against the back of your neck, your shoulder, your jaw.  

“I didn’t want to rush you,” he said. “I didn’t want to put any pressure on you, so I wanted you to say it first but, fuck-” he laughed again- “fuck, I’ve wanted to tell you so badly.” 

“You have?” 

“Yes, baby. I love you. I really fucking love you.”  

“I love you.” 

You stared through the darkness at your hands, clasped together just in front of you. The words felt fuller than you ever thought they could. You had thought they would feel like something being taken from you, like they would open up a hole inside you and leave you bereft but they didn’t. Each time you said it, you felt filled up. With every repetition of the words, you felt more whole. Coming together. Being brought together inside yourself, all your little broken pieces.  

You loved him. He loved you.  

You fell asleep quickly and slept soundly until late morning. 

[beefros-sin-bin]

Goodbye 2023!

Thank you to everyone who sent in submissions - I have so much reading to catch up on now! 🥩💜🥩

If you have more fics to recommend for the SinBin, keep sending them my way.

I was originally going to break everything by category into the various P-boys, but the majority are one specific character. So we have two categories:

Joel Miller Fics

Other P-boy Fics.

I've included the comments (if there was one) for each fic submitted, but kept the submitter anonymous.

Beefro & the SinBin 🚮🥩💜

Joel Miller Fics (in no specific order)

Left in Lincoln - @toxicanonymity

Left in Lincoln. It's no secret my love for this series, and for my favorite Joelkémon, but this story is one I love not only for the slow burn sexiness but the horror elements in general. The balance of fear and horror with the soft, beautiful descriptions of the characters and setting make it one I return to over and over. The musical references and influence on the story is just the icing on the cake 🖤 Or ice cream on the pie, in this case 🍑🌸 Ty for the beautiful stories Toxy, and community to obsess over our mutual obsessions 🥰🖤

Scarecrow & Fear Thy Neighbor by @xdaddysprincessxx

So my first rec is @xdaddysprincessxx and her Farmer Joel series 🚜 All of her work is amazing but this one is so fun and soooo hot! (Heed the warnings though if you choose to read) I'm biased because I got to hear about her writing process and contribute some of my own thots 🤭 But it's not only sexy af (just like her!) but scary too!!! Be sure to read the sequel too 😉 She's not only a talented writer but a wonderful human in general 🖤

Help I’m Stuck! By @nosesitter

Reader gets “stuck” in the dryer. Luckily her father in law Joel just so happens to find her and helps 😉 her. When I read this I finally got the whole “oh no I’m stuck!” sex scenario lmao I always found it kinda funny bc in porn they’d be stuck in ridiculous spots but this fic? Fucking hot as hell. I get it now 🤷🏻‍♀️

I can be your pretty girl by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Okay so I’m almost positive she is tired of me recc’ing & talking about this series lol it’s the hottest fucking fic ever. I genuinely am obsessed. It has everything. She deserves a Nobel peace prize for this idc idc.

A Secret Worth Keeping by @multiversed-daydreamer

Vamp Joel. I repeat Vamp. Joel. 🥵 and his vampirism is a secret and readers blood is his krptonite and she has to keep what they do hush hush. It’s so goddamn delicious 🤤

Fall into Temptation by @joelsgreys

Whew okay where do I start? Reader is the pastors daughter. Joel is Joel. 😏 they end up falling for each other and having a beautiful love affair. That has to be a secret bc her father would forbid it! Duh! It’s spicy, they have to sneak around to meet up with each other (again I am paraphrasing ish I don’t wanna spoil lol) and the religious tones in it? My baby is feeding me. This heals my religious trauma. Feeds my daddy issues and desire to fuck this old man.

Deliver Me From Nowhere by @atinylittlepain

It is beautifully written, touching a delicate topic with such care, it is truly an amazing work.

Just This Once by @talaok

Okay hear me out: this one brings the angst. The emotion. I felt so bad for reader, bby girl just wanted love. It tore me up inside. I had tears.

Self Indulgent Tendencies by @strang3lov3

So this was actually the first fic of Bugs I ever read. And. I. LOVED. IT. I’m trying not to spoil anything but long story short; Joel catches reader and fucks her to teach her a lesson. (I am extremely paraphrasing this lol) it still lives in my damn brain 🥵

Meet Me in the Back by @atticrissfinch

Sleazy gas station Joel. That’s it. That’s all. He is so sleazy and ugh I need his dick. And so does reader after she gets it. And she keeps coming. Back for more that is 😉

All You Wanna Do by @atticrissfinch

Now I am an angst queen. And boy this one is not for the weak. It is dark, please please please heed the warnings on this one. But personally I love this one. She has truly ripped my heart out, made my chest physically hurt. She invokes emotion so well.

No One But Me by @koshkamartell

This is a small blog's series that deserves to be promoted!

The Wrong Way by @romana-after-dark

Raider!Joel Miller and Raider!Tommy Miller x fem!Reader

Other P-boy Fics (in no specific order)

Dirty Uncle Ezra by @bonezone44

😏 yea I said it. Dirty Uncle Ezra. Hottest fucking concept I’ve ever heard. He’s so dirty and sleazy and ngh I’m already moaning. Also this beautiful human is an amazing artist so plz check out their art work 💜 (a note from Beefro: the fact that the age tag on this is 56+ made me laugh out loud)

Pascals Pursuit of Love! by @elvinaa (all the P-Boys!)

The innovation! It has all the P boys Bachelorette style. It’s so much like the show, it’s got twists and turns, there’s funny moments, cute moments. I look forward to each week aka each chapter lol I love it so much.

Apple by @romana-after-dark

Bisexual!Dark!Santiago Garcia, Bisexual!Dark!Frankie Morales, and Bisexual!Dark!William Miller x fem!Reader

[ravenkinnie]

As nice as it might be for angst potential, felica(?) being besties with vander & silco feels soo…. idk. like it just comes out of nowhere? Idk if i’d quite call it a retcon, per say, but it definitely doesn’t… make too much sense. I thought her death supposed to be a “yeah this wasn’t worth it we lost way too many people trying this” thing for vander. Nope! Very Close friend who’s daughter he literally named is now dead & That was apparently the catalyst for him trying to kill silco!

Like Hello??? So you’re tellin me silco Wouldn’t know exactly who’s kids vander took in??? He was standing right over her corpse??? Even Assuming he Did know, then he was perfectly okay with attempting to murder his dead friend’s children? Who he apparently promised to make zaun a reality For Them? Feels like a “btw silco was a Bad Guy, in case you forgot.” reminder. Like… Okaaaaay…. lol…. I guess he Did somehow know exactly where to find Vi when she came back but… Seriously?

Only way i can make any sense of this is if they’re Attempting to do some sort of “history repeating itself in different ways” bc The Arcane(?) is basically a… cosmic horror entity that has its own will & pulls the strings of reality like puppets to entertain itself or something. (At least, i kinda got that implication from viktor’s dialogue & episode 6’s title) But even If that’s what they’re going for it’s… Very Messy & poorly executed. It’s giving george lucas levels of “it’s all connected.”

it's just like. I mean I don't think it's wrong, everyone in undercity seems to at least know of each other so it doesn't feel wrong but it's like. well did we need it, like did it add anything? not that I want to remove felicias accomplishment of birthing jinx but we have 9 hours to wrap up all this shit we do not need that screen time to be spent on a flashback with two characters who have been dead longer than they've been on the screen. but it mostly just comes down to me not believing we need more information about vander and silcos divorce like their beef did its story function, I would leave that backstory for the future if we wanna sell something new jsjsjsk I bet you could get a one shot mini comic out of this and maybe that's the true intention

it wasn't even necessary to explain how he knew where vis childhood home would be because we already knew that shimmer guy that viktor recruited into scientology snitched on her to silco so we could have assumed he would just lead him there

I think if the arcane was intentionally like a cosmic entity that introduces endless patterns that you can't escape, it would have been a concept that is more interesting and difficult to execute than you can expect from the last 3 episodes jsjsjsk maybe they do want to include this layer there but I think it's just clunky writing, they are just doing this cycles of violence thing way too on the nose I mean how many fucking times can we kill or maim vander

I will also say!! idk how their current concept of the arcane connects to league yet because it feels like an entity that encapsulates all of runeterra should probably be very pivotal when you consider any champion or piece of lore that connects to the void. just because having a foreign predatory cosmic entity within the ssme world seems like it would piss off the current cosmic entity, how many can you fucking have?? I don't even like when people have the same name as me

[coyote-nebula]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag, @cuephrase and @wildsofmarch!

Also, thank you @motleyfam for locating the lost question lol

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

29

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

182,782

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Just Batman now

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Spike (3,470 words) - the kudos leader by far. I gave Tim roofie trauma, invoked by being stealth drugged at home. Kind of a spite fic categorically, but I think I'd prefer awareness as an intention over spite 😂 this author's life has been a bit weird Tim in a Bottle (38,683 words) - Tim, trapped in an industrial freezer with Jason, is attacked by memories in the text equivalent of a bottle episode. I know it combines two tricky qualities-- extensive conversation in one room and flashbacks-- but it seems to work alright anyway lol Tap Out (8,002 words) - Jason and family attend a gallery event for Damian, and Jason reflects on trusting Bruce. Now that I think about it, this is quite a lot like both Spike and Tim in a Bottle 😂 Except Tim (2,772 words) - Tim gets lost in the woods with his abandonment issues for company. Featuring both Bambi and Lady and the Tramp references Harvest (30,129 words) - Bruce and Jason harvest some corn and engage in hallmark movie emotion-having. I like the punchability to huggability ratio Bruce has is this

5. do you respond to comments?

Yep! Sometimes, lol. I'd love to answer all of them, but I don't have the spoons. I still reread and kick my feet over them though

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm... Pretty much all my fics have some kind of comfort ending. I'm gonna go with a friend, though he may wander far, because of the guilt and injury it ends on.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, they all strive for a relatively happy ending... so I'll say sweetgum, which is pretty angst-free to begin with.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Every once in a while, but nothing memorable. Mostly they're some kind of out of nowhere complaint about deviation from canon, at which I tap the 'alternate universe' sign and delete

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't. Not my thing!

10. do you write crossovers?

I haven't... if I did it would probably be pretty niche lol

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. There is a pretty cool fic inspired by TiaB written in Polish, though!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not too long ago! Me and @batbirdies wrote Tip for a Successful Interview: Lie (Down) :)

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Platonic: whatever I'm currently writing, usually 😂Tim & Jason, right now Romantic: This isn't my thing as much, but I do get a lot of amusement out of an ace batcat ship concept

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I stubbornly hold out hope for the completion of all my WIPs. That said, probably the Jason & Tim horror one lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

Weaving in flashbacks has gotten good feedback. In general, I think I'm pretty good at being concise (at least, I find editing off words a lot of fun)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Being a little too concise or obscure, sometimes 😂 losing clarity. Overcomplicating things until I either have an unwieldy WIP on my hands or have sacrificed my motivation for solving all the mysteries before I write the fic

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've played with it a little. I think <using brackets> so the translation is in-text works best for me

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Trek: The Original Series, unless you count the thinly veiled MASH fan comic I messed around with

20. Favourite fic you've written?

make me a cradle (1,811 words) - wrote this in a semi-fugue state and I'm uncommonly satisfied with it-- Alfred's voice has a neat quality, it's sufficiently punchy, and it does exactly what I wanted it to do. It even manages a comforty ending! Ironically, it's my lowest ranking fic by kudos 😂 probably owing to the sensitive subject (attempted suicide) and being marked incomplete (with another sensitive subject, grief over Jason's death, promised). (Now that I think about it, I think I might have stealth released this also lol) Seriously considering marking it complete, though, since it stands well on its own. The mentioned follow up might happen someday, but the mood to write incredibly sad fic doesn't happen very often!

I will tag @batbirdies and whoever else would like to claim I tagged them 😂

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 3

Hello! Sorry it’s a bit late, I’ve been settling in the cottage I’m in on holiday. I can't wait for to post this part, since it's now finally starting to kick off! For those who have asked to be in the Taglist, just know you're on the guest list for my funeral, cuz you guys are the ones giving me motivation. <3333333

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls from England ended up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1017 (Slightly shorter this time)

Warnings: Blood, Minor Injuries, Kate's having a slight panic attack but doesn't realise it lol

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE PROLOGUE IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 >

PART 1: Chapter 3 -

Error: Friend not found.

Throughout time, it was believed that bridges were gateways to other realms and dimensions, and this is what some people believed supernatural creatures such as ghosts used to cross into the world of the living.

Now would be a good time to be anyone but me.

 Chills swept up my spine and down my limbs as I felt frozen in place at the sight before me. Mind clouded with anxiety and confusion, I racked my brain to see if I could come to even a singular conclusion to why Kay had evaporated into thin air.

Breaking through my fuzzed up thoughts, I went with my first idea. Sprinting to where I had last seen her leaning on the other side of the bridge, I practically threw the top half of my body over the edge.

My wide eyes glared into the depths below, scanning intently for any sign that she had fallen in. A circle of ripples, bubbles, anything! But to my bewilderment, nothing revealed any indication that she had landed in the water. Well, now that I come to think of it, if she had fallen, there would’ve been at least some noise. Whether it was a splash, or her screaming as she fell.

I breathed a small sigh in relief as I semi-ruled out the possibility. But the unease swept back like a wave, as I remembered that I was currently alone, in the middle of the woods, with nothing but a thin waterproof coat to keep me warm.

—————————-

The next couple minutes was spent retracing my steps as I returned to the clearing, the whole time I called Kay’s name, straining my ears through the noise of the birds and trees for any sort of reply.

I eventually returned to the bridge, with the intent of returning to the car park to see if Kay had ended up there, and worst case scenario, report her missing.

I switched on my phone’s torch, in order to navigate my way back in the now dying light, whilst nothing but panic pumped at high speed through my veins, my head still clogged with questions about what happened.

Tears pricked at my eyes at the thought of my missing friend and being alone in the middle of nowhere. Nothing like this should happen unless it was a horror movie! What caused her to disappear? How did she vanish so quickly and quietly? I wiped at my glassy eyes, black mascara now smudged on my hand and probably my face. I pushed on and started my way over the bridge.

It was now dark, with only my phone bearing a sphere of light to illuminate what was in front of me. I lifted my head to look ahead, only to stagger to a stop, shock crashing over me for the second time this evening - only this time it was impossible to try and come up with an explanation.

It seemed to shimmer and glitter in the light of my torch, and all I could do for a moment was peer at it with nothing but bafflement as I tried to wrap my head around what I was witnessing. A shaky breath rattled through my lungs as I shuffled a tantalising foot forwards. Call me dumb, but crossing this bridge was my only way back, and this thing completely blocked the path.

It looked like a wall of some sort – transparent – as I could just make out the other side, but it swirled and morphed between white and grey, as if someone had taken the world’s biggest liquid veil and defied gravity by hanging it up in the middle of nowhere. Scanning it whilst moving my phone about, I theorised that this could most likely be behind Kay’s bizarre disappearance.

I slowly lowered myself to the ground, patting my hand about on the wooden floor for a stick I had spotted earlier whilst keeping a firm eye on the veil. I soon felt the knobbly bark and wrapped my hand around it before gradually straightening back up. I held it up in front of me, as both defence and a prodder and inched it forward with my shaking hand until it was no more than a half inch away.

Gently swaying the thin branch from side to side, I cautiously edged it closer each time, making the crazy decision to see if I could swirl what I guessed was liquid within this mysterious wall. That was, until the stick finally came in contact.

I let out a sharp cry of alarm as the stick was torn out of my hand and with a flash, it was gone. I let out a hiss, grimacing as I felt a harsh burning and opened my hand, only to see gashes where the branch had torn at my skin as the veil sucked it in at the speed of light. Clenching my jaw and taking deep breaths through my nose, I tried to put pressure on the wounds in an attempt to stop the blood that was now oozing out and running down my arm.

But what was most important, is that I now had a clear idea of what happened to Kay.

With newfound determination, I strode up to the veil, eager to find my friend. Coming face to face, it was only when I went to step forward, did I hesitate.

What if something bad happens as soon as I stepped through? I didn’t want both of us to go missing without a trace. What would become of our family, and other friends? I didn’t want to put that type of trauma on them! However, it would be worse if I returned alone, I don’t think Kay’s mum would ever forgive me for losing her daughter.

Coming to a final decision, I faced back towards the wall, trying my best to keep myself from faltering.

“I swear down if I don’t come back from this they better put me on Buzzfeed Unsolved.” I muttered to myself.

Reaching out again with my bleeding hand, I decided there was no turning back now, and with a deep breath, I touched the wall.

With a ferocious jolt, my feet were swept from underneath me, and before I could let out even a scream, I was thrusted forward into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

< Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 >

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Can't wait to see you on the 7th April for Chapter 4! Also please comment if you want to be added to the Taglist <3

Taglist:

@opheliasdrowningg @mrsdurin @g1gglef1t @qmabailor @jupiterrdarling

(Message me if your tag isn’t working)

[merakiui]

Okay, but that last post? With Azul playing cupid? Was so sweet??? I keep telling myself that this is a yandere blog, but then you come outta nowhere and hit me with this. I now want more, but at the same time, I also love your darker stories too! Mera, why you gotta do this to me! I want pain I want fluff I want angst I want I want...! Basically, anything you write is practically gold! Now I want an outing with all four! ;;

Hehe thank you for liking the things I write!! I'm always so tempted to write more fluffy romance or silly harem shenanigans. As much as I love horror and yandere and all of the big brain plays that are made within the fics I write, I also love fluff and the stages of pining that slowly lead into a relationship and the sweetness of lovely things. It's probably why Azul thought 4 feels so romantic (before the plot twist lol); I wanted so badly to write something soft and romantic and sweet, but I also wanted to keep the yandere theme as all Azul Thoughts contain darker undertones hehe.

Riddle, Azul, and the twins would be such a fun group!!! The way that they all just bounce off of each other makes for such an enjoyable group dynamic. If the twins aren't siding with Azul to tease Riddle, they're changing sides and teasing both Azul and Riddle just to see who can get annoyed faster. And darling is between all of the mischief, sitting back and watching, most definitely enjoying the silly nonsense those four indulge in. It's so fun! Thinking about those four being in love with you and trying to navigate their feelings in completely different ways...... orz sometimes you need fluff to feed the soul. (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

[sessakag]

Fic Author Self Rec! When you get this reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, or some snippets from upcoming WIPS. Let’s spread the self-love! Love ya and thank you for all you do!! 💖

I love all of my fics of course, but some are very dear to me for different reasons.

Secrets of the Hidden Leaf - I love this fic, not only is it a ton of fun to write, but I feel like it gives me an opportunity to bring awareness and better understanding to a variety of lifestyles, the submissive lifestyle in particular as well as opening minds to different types of relationships such as polyamory. It's an educational fic buried in smutty goodness I suppose, lol. Then of course the drama/angst is incredibly fun to craft.

Monster - This was my first NaruHina fic and is really like my baby baby (cuz all my fics are my babies) but this one has a special place as my first foray into the wonderful world of NaruHina. This is where I get my fluffiest, despite the horror element 🤭I just love the NaruHina love and connection in here, and I enjoy filling in the blanks of the Otsutsuki with my own nonsense as well.

A Cure For Love - My first time writing M/M Slash dynamic (and certainly not my last) and I am having a ball! It's also another polyamory between Naruto, Hinata, and Sasuke. There are nowhere near enough fics with this trio, and too many that favor one part of the pairing and leave one of these sweetheart squeezed out of the relationship. I plan on adding a lot more NaruHinaSasu fanfics in the future for people like me that want to see this pairing more. I also love that this story gives me a lot of creative freedom. I can take so many elements of the Naruto world and morph it into this supernatural aesthetic.

Prey - A tribute to the dark side, this is a fic I sat on for a while because I didn't want to deal with drama over it's contents but so far I haven't had to deal with any. I can write my immoral, sociopathic Naruto just they way I want. I love Naruto, I love villains and I'm thrilled to combine the two. Surprisingly people LOVE this story and it makes me happy I wasn't the only one craving a dark tale.

NaruHina Fair Oneshot Collection - This was such a good time in my NaruHina writing journey despite the chaos of that month. I feel like most of the ideas I had floating around in my head or collecting dust on my laptop finally got a chance to breathe! I've always felt a bit down that I don't have time (and may never have time) to create every single fanfic I want to write and this collection of oneshots alleviated that feeling quite a bit! Whether I get around to fleshing them all out or not, I've at least published something to the masses and that is way better than never publishing them at all.

[badwithten]

PAIRING Seungmin x fem!reader

GENRE horror + angst

WORD COUNT 4.5k

WARNINGS death, stalker behaviour 

FEATURING Stalker!han

SYNOPSIS The first Christmas on your own wasn't going to be easy after the death of your husband last year. While rummaging through the attic for Christmas decorations you come across a box of his old things that you had never seen before. You hope to find some closure within but after reading his journal, more questions are asked then answered. Was his death an accident after all?

MASTERLIST

A/N this story is lowkey rushed as fuck, its such a cool concept i might explore in another story but this is all we doing for now lol

Your name is being called out from an unknown source, coming from every direction and nowhere at the same time. Your head spins trying to identify who is speaking to you. Although deep down you know, you know what his voice sounds like. It is burned into your brain, the voice of your very own guardian angel. Kim Seungmin. 

His voice was home. That warm breath in your own bed after spending the night away. The distinct taste of your coffee that only you could make right. The layout of your shower making sense, the order correct of products in relation to how you clean yourself. All these things make sense. All these things you found in Kim Seungmin.

Despite his voice being so close and so familiar, you knew this couldn't be real. As soon as you recognised the voice to be his, you stopped hoping that someone cared. It was only a dream. Kim Seungmin died last year, a fire at his workplace caused by faulty wiring. Five others lost their lives alongside him.  

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest, sending you flying up and awake. The alarm clock next to you reads 2:20 AM. You look over to his side of the bed, still empty. You're no longer dreaming. The nightmares have been getting worse lately and you have a suspicion it's due to the upcoming holiday. 

Christmas was a special event for you and Seungmin. Your families were small but having each other was enough. An entire day dedicated to each other. Your future lives together were encapsulated on this day. The children you may or may not have, personalised gifts that immortalised your love and the extra care put around your home. But this year, your home will be empty. You'd call your parents, put on some festive music and maybe pull out some old decorations. With a week til Christmas, you knew the last task had a time restraint.

The pain you felt around losing Seungmin was just as raw as the day you lost him as it is now. Nothing changed, you just got better at hiding it. You become good at masking your feelings, acting as if the unfortunate actions of the world around you didn't eat you up and rot you from the inside out. You suppose part of this masking would be decorating the house, allowing any neighbours to look over and think you’ve healed. 

Being the weekend you had all the time in the world to lounge around, starting your morning off slow with coffee and a shower before you tackled some housework. You avoided the task of going to the attic for the decorations like the plague, knowing his stuff was stored up there. But eventually, you'd done all the cleaning you could think of and no more cups of coffee could be drunk as an excuse. Dragging the dining chair down the hall to reach the attic felt like walking toward your own death sentence.

And that's exactly what this was, as soon as you crawled into the small space a box labelled “KIM SEUNGMIN'' caught your attention. All of this stuff was long forgotten, packed away in a manic state in an attempt to calm your anxiety. Although later you'd come back up to receive a few essential items you’d accidentally packed away, such as your house keys or lip balm. This box was still untouched. Your eyes travelled back and forth between the tangled mess of tinsel and lights back to the mysterious box. Curiosity got the better of you and you took the cardboard box back down to the land of the living where you placed it on the dining table. 

It was another half hour before you bought yourself to open it. You had a general idea of the contents of this box, as it was all stuff from your own home that you packed away. But the reliving of your husband's life was always something you needed to prepare for. This box contained contents from his office, his laptop, stationary, and a beanie that would've been left laying around. You give it a sniff before holding it to your chest. You still use this shampoo, it's a smell you experience every time you shower, but something about smelling it on him was different. You pull the beanie over your head before you continue. It's everyday things mostly, things you wouldn't connect to Seungmin unless you knew it was from this box. Finally, after piling officewear over your coffee table, you reach the bottom where a lonesome journal sits. 

It only takes a quick glimpse to see the notebook is only ¾ filled, the pages warped and used up to a certain point before they sit flat and clean. You open to the last page, scanning the paper and seeing the date. “28/12/2021”. The day it happened, the fire. You quickly shut it. That same fire builds up in you, you can’t bring yourself to read any more of the journal without being burnt. A rush of panic washes over you as you stash away all the things back into the box, pulling the beanie off of your head and shoving it away. Messily, nothing fits nicely as it once did. But everything needs to be out of your site and fast. Something falls but you don't look back, shoving the box back into the attic and closing it up. Your heartbeat calms slowly, bringing you into a dreamless sleep.

6 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS

A day had passed since you ventured into the attic and found the box. You had since seen the journal you thought you packed away laying on the wooden floor in your lounge. First, you ignored it, leaving it on a nearby shelf to collect dust. But it constantly caught your eye, screaming for your attention. It didn't take long for your walls to crumble and for you to give in.

1/1/2021

The start of 2021! First-year started as a married man and it feels good. I’m so lucky to start this year with her by my side. This year also marks my one year with the new company, which puts me up for a promotion. My hopes are high that I will be the one getting this promotion. It’s still early morning but I am happy and grateful to be here in the new year.

15/2/2021

My workload has increased to the promotion position but no pay rise has been mentioned. I want to speak up but know that it got Han fired for the very same reason. If what he claims is true, either way, the further away he is from me the better. If it was just me I would speak up and take the risk of being fired, but Y/N is dependent on me now. We are both dependent on each other. I don't know what to do. I think she can tell something is wrong as she has started talking about picking up a second job to help pay for the bills. I’d hate for it to come down to that.

3/3/2021

I got sunburnt today. I dread coming home or back to work. Just want to disappear into the ocean forever. 

His entries are random and sporadic, with some long detailed descriptions of his days that last the week. Other small one-liners that are only updated every few weeks. Pages are taken up by photos and drawings he has captured. His writing about Han threw you off. Han had a complicated relationship with the two of you. On one hand, he was your childhood friend who supported and was happy for you when you started seeing Seungmin. On the other hand, he had a burning hate for Seungmin, angry when he supposedly stole you from Han. You hadn’t even realised Seungmin had been working with him all that time and putting up with him. You saw nothing in Han apart from a friend. When he couldn't accept that he distanced himself from you. But it seemed he only got closer to Seungmin.

The last entry was upsetting to you. He didn’t want to come home? You didn't realise the internal turmoil Seungmin was living with for the last year of his life. He kept you away from his life and his feelings. You couldn’t decide if he had done this as to not upset you or if he had done this as a way to push you out of his life. Had he fallen out of love?

You settle on the first option, and you beg and scream that it is the first option. Your Seungmin, your best friend and your soulmate. You'd refuse to believe that there was any other option as to why he kept you out. You leave the journal next to your bed falling back into a deep sleep.

“Y/N?” The voice is back, still coming from somewhere unidentifiable but this time it's a lot closer.

And once again you recognise it immediately, knowing this is a dream you crouch down and hide yourself in your arms. “Go away”

“What?” The hurt in his voice sounds so genuine and as his footsteps come closer you question whether you really are dreaming or not. “Y/N please listen to me”

Looking up you see him standing over you, even a glimpse of his face is all you need to spring up and wrap yourself around him. Holding him tight for a few moments before pulling away. His face sits in your hands as you hold him still to examine him. Nothing seemed to have changed from a year ago. His hair loose and framing his face. His dark eyes filled with so much love and care. His mouth sits partly open wanting to speak but waiting for you to finish. Your thumb passes his lips, red in comparison to the snow-white touch of his skin. His large hands capture yours, holding them in between your chest and his.

“You need to listen to me” You nod encapsulated by his beauty. “You can’t read the journal anymore. OK? You need to promise me you won't read it any further”

“What do you mean?” This journal is filling you in on parts of his life you would have never known otherwise. And you miss him so bad. It causes you physical pain anytime you think about the fact you never get to hug or hold him again. Although these dreams soothe the pain, it's only for a moment before you wake up more alone and hurt than ever. 

“It’s not going to help you. It's only gonna hurt this fantasy of yours. It’s all a delusion Y/N.” 

“I’m not delusional” You frown at the accusation. “I know this is only a dream”

“That’s not what I’m talking about Y/N” A beeping in the distance brings you away from his speech. By the time you find him again, he's away. Out of reach. You cry out to him. Needing more, but he’s gone. And soon you wake up, looking over to his side of the bed out of habit.

Empty and alone. 

5 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS

Work drags on as it usually does. Most days your mind is focused on the work you need to complete before the 5 PM deadline. Today your mind is focused on the reading you’ll be doing once you're at home. The dream you had last night had your mind racing for answers. And you had a feeling the only way to achieve these were to read further despite the red flags going off in your brain. You don’t bother getting changed or starting dinner for tonight, instead, you grab yourself a glass of water and get comfortable on the couch, journal in hand.

13/5/2021

It's over. Everything I worked towards building my image to is gone! Today I got called into the office where I received an anonymous complaint about my work. Apparently, it was not up to company standards nor was it my own genuine work. I laughed at first thinking Park Jin-young would see past this considering he has been monitoring my work for my entire career and never had a problem with it. But instead, he is cutting down my hours and having my work more closely monitored. My desk has been moved closer to our general manager's office where the light flickers and gives me a headache. I can't stand it. I can’t tell Y/N. I don’t know what to do!

15/5/2021

My mind is still racing from the other day. I just can't understand it. If Park Jin-young had a problem with my work from the beginning, why didn't he say something earlier? Why keep this hidden for so long? I also don't understand who would’ve sent the anonymous tip? Was one of our contractors not happy with the work we were producing? Was it an excuse to get me fired? I will be spending more hours in my car. I can't tell Y/N.

4 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS

The journal had found its way into your work bag. There was more content contained inside than you had realised and you were determined to finish it. You pulled it out on your break, it sat on the table for a long while. Something you hadn't considered was the unknown words inside. Were they going to be as upsetting as the words read from the other day? Before you get a chance to open it up and read anything, more workmates join you in the break room. Minho chose to join you at your empty table, which surprised you. People avoided you like the plague after your husband's passing. Being labelled as a widow made people think any interaction with you would bring up the dead husband talk. Something most hated.

“Is that your diary?” Minho speaks in a monotone voice but you know he's only teasing. You smile.

“It’s Seungmins” You know what's gonna come next, the regret in his eyes and apologies spilling from his mouth. For once you wished he could be spoken about as if he wasn't a bad thing. As if he was a real person. Today was not that day.

“My apologies, I didn't mean to-”

“It's ok” You cut him off, holding the smile on your face as you sip the coffee you held in front of your face. “I’ve just been reading it now and again”

You can see his eyes searching for another conversation, but as you know, the dead husband really dampens the mood. You excuse yourself from the table, taking your things to the bathroom with you. 

27/8/12

I don't think Y/N has noticed my shorter hours. I spend most of my free time in my car filling in this stupid journal. All the things I wish I dared to speak. I have to take out my savings to pay my part of the bills. Seeing the number go down instead of up is upsetting but unless I stop being a coward, there's not much I can do about that. 

28/8/12

The same red Chevrolet Monte Carlo is parked across the road from our house. The driver is unidentifiable due to his hoodie and cap. It freaks me out but I know I’m jumping to the worst-case scenario. This could be another husband hiding his unemployment from his wife. 

5/9/12

It was our 1 year marriage anniversary today. I can't even feel good about that. I can't afford to treat Y/N the way she deserves. She needs better, I need to do better for her. 

28/9/12

It’s been a month and every day without fail the red car is parked near our house. I want to believe it's a neighbour I have not yet met but I never see the driver enter or leave the car. Whoever it is has nothing better to do. But then again, neither do I. 

3 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS

Ever since reading his last few entries, you keep an eye out for the famous red car. Although you don't know what the make or model he mentioned actually means. A red car outside your house would be enough to scare you. But every time you part the blinds to look or check the mailbox, there's no car.

It's a sense of relief that doesn’t last for long as your phone starts ringing. Your mum's contact photo flashes on the screen. You weren’t close to your family in the way most people your age were. But you didn't hate them, there wasn’t any trauma or arguments that kept you apart. But you had just distanced yourself from the world after you had lost him. Unfortunately, this included your closest family. 

“Hey mum” You try your best to sound happy about this call, but the smile drops from your face when you hear the voices from other family members in the background.

“Hi my darling, how have you been?” 

“Good thanks. Look mum I’m kinda busy right now. Can I call you back?” You only feel slightly bad about lying. You will call her back, eventually. Just whenever you can guarantee it's just her and dad. 

“Now hold on a second, I haven't heard from you all month. Can’t you spare five minutes for me?” She doesn’t give you a chance to reply before she continues with her lecture. “We are all so worried about you. Ever since you know who died you haven't been the same darling. I don't think its a good idea for you to be alone this Christ-”

“His name is Seungmin mum” The line rings in silence, her inability to help or support you speaks volumes through her empty reply. “I’ll call you later”

2 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS

17/11/2021

I finally did it! I confronted Park Jin-young about my hours! It didn't take much convincing considering how low-staffed we are but he agreed that my work had improved in quality. Maybe the lessening of hours was just a scare tactic. There's definitely something off about it but I can’t put my finger on it. At least I will be able to treat Y/N this Christmas. 

Your hand reaches for the silver necklace he got you last Christmas, something you hadn't taken off since. It wasn't anything super expensive from your knowledge, but it was priceless to you. The chain often got tangled, but you'd put in the work to keep it neat. For him.

You had errands to run today, it would be a rush but you needed to get them done before shops closed for Christmas eve. But as you make your way outside to your car, you see it. Your heart stops. The dreaded red car Seungmin has mentioned so frequently. Now, this could be any red car, but the driver is wearing a hoodie and glasses, the same way Seungmin saw him. You can't tell where this mystery man is looking thanks to the tinted glass covering his eyes, but you think it's fair to say he was looking at you. As soon as your eyes caught him, he looked away, starting his car and driving off in a rush. 

You're frozen in place. Who was this man and what did he want with you?

1 DAY TO CHRISTMAS

25/12/2021

This morning was the happiest I’ve felt in a long time. I’m at peace. I struggle to talk about how I’m feeling, even with Y/N. Things build up but this morning I was able to let everything go without blowing up. I feel so lucky to be able to experience such bliss. I wish every day was like this. But I return to work soon and so does Y/N. We made breakfast together and opened gifts in our bed. I don’t want to let go of this feeling.

27/12/2021

I got to spend another day with Y/N yesterday and as nice as that was I’m back to work and so is she. To be honest with you I am scared for what this day holds for me. The red car is outside the building and I can see the driver is Han. Which means he's back at work. But why was he at our house? I will confront him when I see him leave his car but to be honest I don't want to. I don't want to tell Y/N either. I need to but I can’t. I am still a coward and not even half the man she deserves. 

A hole is opened up in your chest that allows all the worries of the outside world to consume you. You're so lightheaded yet weighed down by anxiety all at once. A feeling of fear you truly never wish to experience again. Han Jisung worked with your husband. Han Jisung sat outside your house for months last year. Han Jisung was outside of your house yesterday. 

Discarding the journal, your shaking hands pick up the phone and dial 112. The phone rings for a long while, you struggle to even hear the line being picked up over your loud and fast breathing.

“112 what's your emergency?” The lady on the other side has heard enough horror stories for her lifetime, any piece of joy has left her which is reflected in her dull voice.

“My ex- Well he’s not my ex, this guy has been stalking me and my husband for over a year and I think he-” Your voice is erratic and out of pace, speaking faster than you can keep up with. 

“Slow down mam, is your husband there?”

“No, he's dead! It's unrelated but now this guy is after me!” Your back is pressed against your bedroom door, there's no lock so using your own strength is all you've got. “Please help me”

“Is he currently at your property?”

“No, but he will be, I just know it” Your sobbing echoes in the empty room, words barely escaping the crumbled mess that you are. 

“I’m sorry to inform you mam but without any urgent danger, I can’t help you. Contact your local police station and they should be able to send an officer to help you ok?” Dread fills your stomach, this isn't real. If she doesn’t believe you then who will? “Are you there mam?”

You press the big red button on your screen, letting your phone fall to the floor. Dragging your shaky legs up and onto your bed is a struggle. But soon you are hidden under the soft protection of your blankets. You curl up, another sob ripping through your body, this is where you lie. Waiting for death or sleep, whatever comes first. 

CHRISTMAS DAY

You wake up out of breath and aching. Your neck crumbled from the position you slept in. As you awaken your memory of last night comes to light and you rush to the front door. Making sure to secure it shut. Calming down you take a breath, your head is covered in fog and your eyes are swollen. The tears you shed last night are not forgotten this morning. Without your initial panic, you're able to do as you should've last night and call your town's police station.

“Reminder that this is not an emergency line, for an emergency please dial 112” You let the automated voice speak before it continues ringing to a real person.

“Seulgi speaking, how can I help?” She sounds young, which makes you feel guilty that she has to spend Christmas away from her family and deal with people like you. 

“Sorry to call on Christmas, but I believe I have a stalker and I have recently seen him outside of my house” Your words are a lot clearer than last night.

“Ok, am I able to get an address for that one?” You repeat back your address to her, feeling relief that someone is listening. “And do you have the name of this man?”

“Han Jisung”

Can you elaborate on your relationship with Han?”

“He had a crush on me,” The words sound childish coming out of your mouth, especially with the seriousness of the situation. “But I’m married, I turned him down. I recently found out from my husband he used to sit outside our house and watch us and I saw him watching me the other day“

“Why did you not alert the police last year? Or the other day?” Her tone is not condescending. It’s flat. She needs to know because it's her job but you don’t know how to explain your situation. She picks up on your unwillingness to answer. “I’ll send a patrol car now”

“Thank you”

“Have a good Christmas mam”

It was a waiting game now. Anytime now there was going to be a knock on the door and this would all be over. The anticipation and fear that was built up inside you would soon be split out onto someone who could protect you. In the meantime, you had one more page to read and you couldn't help yourself. You want to know what happened the day you lost your husband. It was notable enough for him to record. 

28/12/21

Han Jisung got his job back. Sort of. He started back at his old position but I’ve seen him working on maintenance around the building. I don't think he is qualified to but I am keeping my distance. I couldn't confront him yesterday but I am convinced he is here to mess with me and Y/N. I am writing this from my car, I can see him sitting in his. I am going to talk to him now. If he doesn't stop his behaviour I will be contacting the authorities. I need to do something about his behaviour, for Y/N. 

Sparks in your brain go off and things start to fall into place. Was Han the one at fault for Seungmin's death? From your knowledge, Han was very uninterested in any work that involved his hands. He enjoyed music and cooking, writing and coffee making. Even if he had gone through the necessary training, he had only been training for less than a year. He had no place working in a building that size. He had no place near Seungmin. He put his life in danger. It was Han Jisung who ended Kim Seungmin's life.

As your blood begins to boil, a knock on the door interrupts you. You wipe away the tears you didn't notice falling and head towards the front door. It all ends here, with the help of the officer behind this door you will put an end to the suffering Han Jisung put you through for the last year, unknown to you. 

You pull open the door and your eye immediately goes to the bright red car parked outside your house. Your heart drops as you make eye contact with the man in front of you. His gummy smile and charming eyes. Han Jisung is standing at your door. His hands conceal something behind his back. And although he's got his usual smirk on his face, his eyes hide something much more sinister.

“Merry Christmas Y/N”