#look at this beauty i just stumbled about

[rafes-slut]

Could you do some smut with a Reader who is a bit insecure about being so naked/exposed, feeling unattractive and gets in her head during sex and can't relax, and because of that tenses up (therefor pain) so Rafe is really soft with her and understanding

Hope you will like it <3

Let me show you

Pairing: soft!Rafe Cameron x insecure!reader

Warnings: Smut, insecurity/self-consciousness, body image struggles, soft!Rafe, praise kink, gentle and reassuring intimacy, established relationship.

Summary: you are insecure and always feeling exposed about yourself, as rafe tries to praise you and make you feel comfortable in any way. Giving you all the time you need about it

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Rafe's room is dimly lit, the warm glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows along the walls. The bed beneath you feels impossibly plush, but no amount of comfort can settle the nervous knot twisting inside your stomach.

You should be used to this by now—you and Rafe have been together for a while, and he's never given you a reason to doubt how much he wants you. But still, every time things get intimate, you can’t shake the overwhelming self-consciousness that creeps in. Every touch feels like a spotlight on the parts of yourself you wish you could hide. Every second that passes without him saying something makes you spiral, convinced that maybe—just maybe—he’s finally seeing what you see when you look in the mirror.

You’re tense, your body rigid beneath him as his hands trace down your sides. He notices. He always does.

“Baby,” Rafe murmurs, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your collarbone. “Relax for me.” His voice is low, soothing, but you still can’t bring yourself to fully let go.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, but it doesn’t sound convincing.

Rafe pulls back slightly, resting his weight on his forearm as his other hand moves to cup your cheek. His thumb strokes over your skin, eyes searching yours with a kind of tenderness that makes your chest ache.

“You’re not,” he says softly. “Talk to me, angel.”

You swallow hard, feeling your throat tighten. You don’t want to ruin the moment, but the words are already forming, slipping out before you can stop them.

“I just…” You hesitate, eyes flickering away in embarrassment. “I feel… exposed.”

Rafe stills for a moment, and you brace yourself for him to be annoyed or frustrated, but instead, he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “You’re supposed to be,” he murmurs. “That’s the whole point, baby. You don’t have to hide from me.”

His fingers trail down your arm, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing every inch of you. “I wish you could see what I see,” he continues, voice thick with emotion. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Every part of you.”

You shake your head slightly, but Rafe doesn’t let you pull away. Instead, he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

“You are,” he insists. “And I don’t just mean when you’re all dressed up or when you’re wearing something cute. I mean right now. Just like this.”

Your heart stumbles over itself at the sincerity in his voice.

“I love your body,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw. “I love the way you feel under me, the way you fit so fucking perfectly against me.” His hand moves down, tracing the dip of your waist. “You were made for me, angel. You know that, right?”

Heat spreads through your body, replacing some of the doubt with something softer—something warm and safe.

Rafe presses his lips to yours, slow and deep, his hands never straying too far, never moving too fast. He wants you to feel wanted, not just desired. There’s a difference, and he knows you need to feel it.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes between kisses. “So goddamn perfect for me.”

Rafe watches you closely, waiting for any hesitation, any sign that you still feel unsure. His fingers brush over your skin like he’s trying to soothe the nerves buzzing under the surface. His lips trail down your neck, lingering there as he whispers, “I’m not going to rush you, baby. We have all night.”

His patience makes your chest ache. He always takes his time with you, never pushing, never making you feel like you have to be anything other than what you are. But even now, as his hands move lower, you still feel the tension clinging to you, the weight of your insecurities trying to pull you under.

“Come here,” he murmurs, shifting slightly so that you’re fully beneath him. He presses his forehead against yours, his body warm and steady against your own. “Tell me what you need.”

You chew on your lip, your fingers instinctively reaching for the fabric of his shirt. “I just… I don’t want you to look at me too much,” you admit quietly, feeling ridiculous even as you say it.

Rafe exhales slowly, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. “Baby…” He lifts your chin gently, his blue eyes soft yet unwavering. “I love looking at you. I could stare at you all fucking day.”

Your stomach twists, your instincts telling you to shrink away, but Rafe won’t let you. His hand moves to your waist, fingers pressing just firm enough to ground you.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice laced with something possessive yet impossibly tender. “Every part of you belongs to me, and I love what’s mine.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, but you still can’t help the way your body tenses as his hands move lower, brushing over the parts of yourself you always try to hide.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then another along your collarbone. “Relax, angel. I got you.”

His touch is slow, reverent, giving you time to adjust, to breathe. Every movement is filled with purpose, meant to remind you that this is him, that you’re safe here, that he’s not going anywhere.

When his hands finally push your shirt up, his gaze doesn’t drop to your exposed skin like you expect it to. Instead, he keeps his eyes locked on yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice almost aching. “I don’t know how you don’t see it.”

Your heart clenches, your breath stuttering slightly as his fingers graze over your stomach. He traces patterns there, his touch gentle but deliberate. “Every time I touch you, I just—” He exhales, shaking his head like he can’t find the right words. “I can’t get enough of you, baby.”

You feel your pulse quicken at his words, the sincerity in them making it harder to hold onto your doubts.

Rafe leans down, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Let me take care of you.”

His hands move to your shorts, but he doesn’t do anything yet. He just watches you, waiting for you to give him some kind of sign.

And for once, you don’t let the insecurities win. You give him a small nod, and the soft smile that spreads across his lips makes your chest feel warm.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips before slowly—so slowly—helping you out of the rest of your clothes.

Your body stiffens instinctively as you’re left bare beneath him, the rush of vulnerability making you want to hide, but Rafe doesn’t let you. His hands are warm as they smooth over your thighs, his gaze locked on yours, unwavering.

“You’re breathtaking,” he says, and the way he says it—like it’s an undeniable fact—makes you believe him, even if just for a moment.

Then his hands are moving, his lips following, and all you can do is feel.

Every kiss, every touch, every whispered praise is meant to replace the doubts in your mind with something softer, something better.

[prael]

Conciliation

ILLIT Moka x Yunah // part 2 to Punishment

words: 6,035 Masterlist

Two weeks have gone by. Two weeks since the incident in their dorm room. For Yunah, it's as though that night never happened. It was just some afterthought that had been shoved down in the deep corners of her memory, as though she would sooner forget and have Moka pretend it was nothing at all.

Moka thinks of nothing else.

She thinks about it in her classes, daydreaming when she should be practising. Rehearsals have become a stop-start procedure, with everyone turning to Moka with the same question: are you okay? She feels so pathetic. Embarrassed at herself, but still thinking, wondering, wishing, that maybe tonight might be that night; that Yunah might snap at some point and give her just a single touch.

She's thought about doing it again, just the same way, touching herself while Yunah is around. Even the mere idea has Moka wet with shame. It would work, surely, it has to work. Then Moka talks herself out of it. Doing it again, trying to instigate a reaction, she may as well just confess, beg, and plead with Yunah. Admit that she likes her. Tell her just how crazy it makes Moka when she walks around the room in only a t-shirt and panties. When she shakes her hair loose out of a ponytail, her brunette hair cascades in the moonlight, looking so soft and thick, and Moka can't get over her.

They're on their way out of the country, for another big show. Another sleepless night spent travelling. Another opportunity for Yunah to glare at Moka when she's obviously not focused or too busy stumbling through her moves. Another opportunity for her to sit there, only her and her dirty, little thoughts.

There's a slight turbulence, enough to make the sleeping Yunah move in her seat, her head rolling to the side. She looks peaceful and beautiful. That same fringe she's so particular about always ends up in her eyes, so naturally, Moka wants to reach up and push it away, but she forces herself back, that's the last thing she wants; to wake her and look suspicious.

"Not sleeping?" A voice from the other side, makes Moka tear her eyes away from Yunah and find Minju. Minju gives a curious look at Yunah before returning her gaze to Moka.

"Can't sleep," Moka confesses with a sigh.

Minju doesn't reply at first, the look she is giving, makes Moka believe she is contemplating whether she should share or not. "Me neither. Keep thinking about tomorrow."

Moka hums a vague affirmative in response. She wants to appear agreeable and that she isn't preoccupied with the thoughts of someone else.

Minju gives her a wry smirk. "What about you? You keep spacing out."

Her question strikes a chord in Moka. For some reason, she can't deny it or lie about what's been going through her head, and even when she should probably deny it, Moka still finds herself talking about her. "Have you ever liked someone who hated your guts? Like so much it physically hurts," Moka can't help the questions slipping past her lips. It's pathetic really. She should know better, and she knows she's saying too much and too openly, but it's not her fault. She just can't handle it all, not for another minute.

"Are you saying there's a guy you like?" Minju asks, which at least offers Moka the reassurance that the others haven't realised what's going on; why else would she ask that? "You know we're not allowed to date anyone, Moka."

"I know, and I'm not going to date anyone, but I can still like someone, right?"

Minju laughs. "Yeah, you can do what you like," she replies while stealing another look at the older girl across from them, sleeping. "So why does he hate your guts then?"

"Well, I—"

Yunah sighs, breaking the conversation as the pair suddenly falls quiet. They freeze like deer caught in the headlights of a car as Yunah, shifts in her seat, adjusting her position before relaxing again. There is a relief between them, letting out a heavy breath at the realisation that their friend is still very much asleep.

"Lucky her," Minju finally says, shaking her head. "I can't wait for us all to be back in our hotel rooms and having some proper sleep." Minju sighs, turning back to Moka. "You were saying?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it, forget I said anything," Moka rambles. She finds herself silently cursing herself. If the truth of her desires slipped and spilt out, there's no telling what kind of trouble she would be in. But Minju looks at her in a strange sort of understanding, nodding and giving her a reassuring smile.

Moka returns the sentiment and lays her head on her friend's shoulder. Her heartbeat starts to slow down, and as time passes, sleep draws in, luring her into its clutches, and at last, her eyelids flutter shut.

-

It's 4 am and they're shambling into the hotel lobby, weary, eyes burning, muscles tired, with sore shoulders and legs.

"We've booked rooms for you all. We just went with the same arrangement as the dorm," the manager explains, sending Moka's heart crashing. She and Yunah. Of course. She nods weakly and trudges to the lift alongside her members.

Yunah opens the door, and Moka follows. They haven't spoken a word to each other. The moment the hotel door is closed, and Moka drops her bag on the floor, Yunah takes off her jacket, hanging it on a hook. Moka slips her shoes off, trying her hardest not to make eye contact.

"Moka?"

Fuck. Why couldn't she just walk past without saying anything? Moka's cheeks feel hot. Why now? She glances up, and the look she receives from Yunah doesn't give anything away.

"What's gotten into you? Are you sick?" She snaps, walking right up to her. A rough hand takes hold of her chin, forcing her face up and it shocks Moka so much that it knocks her off her axis for a moment.

There she is. Again. So close. It takes a moment, or three, to figure out what she even said. Moka goes to shake her head, but with her face being held so firmly in place, it's impossible. "No, I'm fine." She swallows. "Just a little nervous."

"Why are you lying to me?"

Her face is still gripped, she's forced to keep eye contact with her and she hates it. She hates that her skin prickles as Yunah's beautiful gaze pours down.

"Whatever," Yunah says incredulously, her hand holding Moka's jaw. Moka nods as best as she can and then she's released. She misses her touch the moment Yunah's hand is gone and she's left to drop her head. "We can't have you being distracted tomorrow. Just get it together."

The older girl retreats into the bathroom, closing the door and leaving a disgruntled Moka alone. She could scream, but instead, she swallows down her frustration.

Moka undresses and slips into her shorts and tank top. She flops onto the soft covers and waits. Curses and empty wishes run through her mind; her fist tightens into a frustrated ball and her eyebrows furrow. How is she supposed to do anything like this? How can she think about anything other than her?

Soon, Yunah returns, but all Moka gets from her is silence, nothing, absolutely nothing, and yet here she is, lying and waiting. Pathetic, it's downright fucking pathetic. She takes a deep breath and lets herself turn and stare at her back. "Yunah?"

"What?"

"Why did you make me feel good?"

"You talk about that like it meant something," Yunah responds, turning her attention away from her phone. Her beautiful hair fans out against the pillow.

"Did it?"

Yunah responds with her own question, "Did you want it to?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry." She turns her attention back to her phone, effectively dismissing her and the conversation altogether.

"Please—"

"Goodnight, Moka," Yunah bites. Her tone leaves no more room for discussion. No room for questioning.

Moka clamps her mouth shut, squeezing her eyes tightly closed. What more could she say? How many ways could she plead with her before it becomes demeaning? But the silence in her room makes the ache between her thighs feel unbearable and impossible to ignore.

It's nearly an hour later when Moka gives in, dipping her hands between her legs. She rubs against the front of her shorts and shudders as she teeters on the brink of losing her senses and giving in to her desires. But the bed shifts, the sheets move, and she stops.

Yunah rolls over and she looks at Moka, as though expecting her to do something, anything. The eye contact alone has Moka feeling so small and helpless.

"Do it," Yunah whispers.

"W-what?"

"I know you want to. These past weeks you've been so distracted. I know you're always thinking of it, of what happened, what I did. I see the way you look at me."

"I... I'm sorry."

Yunah rolls her eyes. "Just do it."

"But you hate it. It makes you uncomfortable, I can't—" Yunah cuts Moka off as she moves closer, she slips her fingers past the waistband of Moka's shorts, down to the wet warmth of her cunt. "Yunah," she whimpers. Moka bites her lip to hold in the noises, but it's impossible to stay silent as Yunah runs teasing touches over her lips, threatening to slip between them.

"You can't do it, can you? Not on your own, not since I've touched you." She says it so plainly that Moka can't help but agree. She knows the truth. "But you don't want to ask for my help because you know I'll just say no. So here I am, doing it for you." Yunah's finger slides between Moka's lips and runs up to her clit. It makes Moka gasp. "Think about why that is. Why would I want to help you?" she murmurs as her fingers circle the hard, little nub.

"I don't know." The words are barely audible.

"I think you do," Yunah says and then her fingers go away.

"No, don't stop."

"I know it's hard, Moka," Yunah whispers. Her fingers are back. They're running through the lips of Moka's cunt, sliding easily, making the skin slick and sensitive. Moka can hardly think as the fingers run up and down, stroking and teasing, edging closer to the opening. "But I need you to say it."

"Because," Moka chokes out. Her head is spinning, and she feels so dizzy. She can hardly form a single thought. All she knows is how good she feels, how desperate she is for those fingers. "You like making me feel good. Because you want it just as bad."

"Because I want it, Moka," Yunah whispers, pushing a single finger into Moka's tight entrance. It sinks in so deep and she moans. She's so fucking sensitive. The feeling of the finger as it enters and stretches her, the feeling as it curls inside, the way it moves slowly and deliberately, is enough to have her trembling. Yunah has to lean in and put her mouth by Moka's ear. "I can't get the fucking thought of you out of my head."

"Oh god."

The words have the desired effect and Yunah's hand moves faster, the thrusts come harder and Moka is completely helpless. Her body starts to arch, her back rises off the mattress and her chest is pulled upwards as if offering herself to the other girl. Her little chest rises, her nipples hardening under the material of her top. Yunah looks at her body and smiles. She pushes a second finger inside, her thumb begins to work her clit and Moka's hands are holding tight to the pillow behind her.

Moka doesn't care that she's moaning, or that she can't stop saying her roommate's name. All that she cares about is how her body is starting to clench, how her hips are bucking and how her legs have gone so rigid, and it's just the best feeling, the best thing that she's ever experienced in her life. Moka opens her eyes and finds Yunah staring. Her face is so close; Moka wants her closer.

She has the overwhelming desire to taste Yunah's lips, but not the strength to pull her down, so she settles for the fingers inside of her and the hand that keeps working her cunt until the orgasm comes.

Moka pulls the pillow tight around her head, muffling the sound that spills from her mouth. She feels her walls tightening around Yunah's digits, her entire body clenching and shaking, and her eyes rolling back. She's so close.

Yunah climbs over her, kneeling between her slender thighs and her fingers never leave. They're so deep. The pressure is too intense. She feels the walls inside of her start to tighten, the heat growing inside her. Moka's head turns and buries into the pillow she holds onto for dear life.

"Look at me, Moka," she coos, leaning into her. "I said look at me."

Yunah takes Moka's hand, prying it away from the pillow. Powerless to resist, Moka's arm is pushed above her head, and then the other. They're placed together, held under Yunah's grasp and Moka's head is free and forced to look at the beautiful woman on top of her, forced to see those deep brown eyes and that gorgeous hair, that pretty face with the full lips, the perfect lips, the ones Moka wishes were pressed against her. But that would be too much. Moka would never want anything more ever again. If she kisses her then it's game over, all she would ever need would be right here. Moka could never think about anyone or anything other than her, ever again.

Moka's stomach tightens, and her face contorts. She lies there helplessly as she is overcome, and the climax hits. She can't help it. She's moaning so loudly and she's clenching around Yunah's fingers. Her legs shake and her arms try to pull themselves away, to have something to cling to. But she can't move. All Moka can do is give into the pleasure. It washes over her, the sensation coursing through her body, making her toes curl.

She leaks messily onto Yunah's hand. The sounds of wetness fill her ears, the lewd, squelching noises as the fingers continue to work her pussy, fucking her through the high and prolonging the sensation until her mind blanks, her body convulses and her voice breaks into a pathetic whine. Moka's head thrashes back and forth, and she's crying, sobbing out loud.

She's left panting, chest heaving as she looks at Yunah who's smiling. That beautiful smile, the one she loves to see.

"You're so pretty when you cum, Moka." She says it most sweetly, and her eyes seem so sincere. Moka wants to kiss her more than ever, and she wants Yunah to feel good too, just like she did. But her body feels like jelly and she can barely move. So she can only lay there and try to catch her breath.

Yunah lowers, laying her head on Moka's chest, her ear pressing gently to her heart, as though listening to it. Her body still twitches and shakes and her legs remain spread with Yunah still nestled between them. Moka tries to calm herself, and she can feel Yunah's breathing slow and soften, her weight shifting on top of her.

"I'm sorry, Moka. For ignoring you, but I knew this would happen. I knew that once I gave in, I wouldn't be able to stop," she murmurs. Moka can only manage a hum in reply. She doesn't even understand what Yunah means, not really, she can barely understand her words. Yunah puts her hand on her waist and slips her own pyjama shorts over her hips and down her long legs. She kicks them off and they're left tangled up at the foot of the bed.

It's when Yunah raises her head from Moka's chest that Moka realises what's happening. Yunah slips her fingers into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down and off of her legs and throwing them aside. Moka feels so exposed. She can't hide the fact she's blushing, that she's so nervous, that this is what she's been waiting for, what she's wanted.

Yunah pulls her own shirt over her head and throws that off the bed too, and now Moka's staring. Tight and toned. Perky. It's like she can't help but let her eyes roam. She's the most perfect girl in the world. Moka's hands reach up to her, running along the curves of Yunah's body, the smoothness of her skin. Her thumbs brush over her nipples, feeling them harden and rise.

Yunah sighs, and Moka wants to make her do that again. She wants to hear all her pretty noises, just like Yunah said she loved hearing hers. So, she sits up and her hands go around Yunah, holding onto her, bringing her closer. She's so tall. Moka's face presses into her chest and she breathes against her, feeling the heat and inhaling the sweet scent of her.

Moka is so nervous. So anxious that she will do something wrong. She has to force herself to lift her head and part her lips, to lean forward and place her mouth over the stiff, little peak on Yunah's breast. She sucks, pulling it in, feeling the way it moves, the way Yunah lets out a breath and the hand that comes up to her hair. Fingers run through her black locks, nails drag along her scalp, and Moka moves her head to the other, repeating the motion, sucking the skin, flicking her tongue over it and pulling it with her lips.

Yunah moans and the grip tightens, she holds her head, and the other arm wraps around Moka. Reassurance in the form of a touch. It tells her she's doing well, that Yunah's liking it. That's all that matters. Moka wants her to like it, she wants to please her, and she wants to know how to make her feel good. She smiles against her smooth skin, placing kisses, licks, and bites all over her. Appreciation for this girl and her beautiful, wonderful body.

Then Moka finds herself lying on her back. Yunah climbs on top of her and Moka's heart thuds hard against her chest. This is everything she's wanted.

"Don't freak out," she whispers, her breath against Moka's face.

"Never."

Yunah shifts her weight and then Moka feels it, the wet heat of Yunah's cunt against hers, and the sensation of her body on hers. Moka looks down at their bodies and can see the point of their connection, where their skin meets. The sight of it alone makes her mouth go dry, her stomach flips, and it takes all her strength to keep herself together. And then Yunah rocks her hips, grinding against Moka, her slick pussy rubbing against Moka's. The sensation of her skin moving, her wetness, it makes Moka's eyes roll back.

"Yunah..." Moka gasps, her body arching, and Yunah pushes her down.

She does it again, and again, sliding against her, pushing her hips hard. Her breathing is growing faster, and heavier, and her moans are so quiet. Sparks ignite in her lower body. The pressure, the heat. It feels so good to have Yunah against her like that.

Yunah leans down and buries her face in the crook of her neck and she kisses and nibbles at her skin there, whispering against the spot. "Why does this feel so good?"

"I don't know," Moka gasps. She's losing her breath already. She's panting and she feels so hot and dizzy, but in the best possible way.

Yunah can't hold back, she can't hide the fact that Moka makes her lose her control. This cute, petite little thing below her; with her innocent, big brown eyes, and her adorable smile, that makes Yunah want to melt, she's her weakness. Moka, who she heard so many times, night after night. Moka, who she's ignored and tried to put from her mind, but can't. And now she has her. She has her little Moka beneath her, squirming and panting and whining, and Yunah's hips can't help but rut down into her.

Yunah can't get enough of it. Moka's pussy feels so soft and warm against her own. The slick mess that grows between them, it's addicting. The sounds are even worse. She wants to make more. She wants Moka to scream.

All the confusion Yunah once felt has vanished, and in its place, a sense of belonging, a feeling that she has to do this. That she's supposed to be in this bed with Moka and no one else. She never understood it. She was scared to admit it. But now there is nothing else she could ever ask for.

Yunah takes Moka's hand, interlocking fingers and squeezing. It's reassuring, and Moka's grip on her hand is strong, it tells Yunah she's feeling the same way.

"Moka."

"Yes," Moka answers.

Yunah looks down at the younger girl. Moka's face is contorted with pleasure, her lips are parted, and she's breathing so hard. She's completely lost to her sensations, and the sight makes Yunah's heart flutter, her skin burns and her body feels weak. "Moka," she whispers again. This time Moka's eyes open, looking straight at her. Their gazes lock and their fingers squeeze. "I like you."

"I like you too." Moka's smile is the most beautiful thing Yunah has ever seen, it triggers an instinct to fuck her harder. Moka's hand snaps to Yunah's hip and holds her tightly. She's moaning louder now. She can't hide it.

The bed creaks, the headboard hitting the wall. The sheets become tangled. They're sweaty and panting, and Moka's moans grow more desperate by the second.

Yunah can't stop herself any longer. Her stomach tenses tight, her body is on the verge of breaking and she can't take much more. "Moka," she calls her name, she's saying it so desperately. "Fuck, I'm going to cum." She can't hold on. Moka feels too good. Everything about this moment is perfect. It feels so right. Yunah can feel her own pussy twitch, she's getting closer to that edge. She can hear Moka whine, she's almost there. She wants Moka to finish. She needs it. "Cum with me."

"I want it, please Yunah. Please make me cum."

Yunah grinds harder. Moka's moans are so pretty. They fill her ears and they're the only sound in the room. They're music, they're the most perfect thing she's ever heard and the best song Moka has ever sung.

Yunah feels Moka's fingers tighten on her hip as she bucks her own up to meet Yunah's thrusts, and the sensation overwhelms them both. They cling to each other, both bodies trembling as the climax washes over them. Moka cries out, and it's loud. She doesn't even try to muffle herself as she squeezes Yunah's hand, and her hips jolt against hers. Yunah's face buries itself in Moka's neck, groaning into the skin, kissing, biting and sucking as the heat consumes her and her mind blanks, the pleasure takes over.

They lay there for what feels like forever, panting, their hearts thumping in their chests, the sound filling their ears.

It's then that Yunah looks up, pulling her head away. She looks down at Moka. Moka, her Moka, staring back up at her with her big eyes. The most gorgeous girl she's ever met. Her skin is so smooth and flawless. Her little nose, her cute lips, and the black, messy hair splayed on the pillow behind her, framing her face like a painting.

"Moka."

"Yunah."

Yunah leans down, pressing their foreheads together and Moka smiles, she can feel it against her face. Their breaths mingle and their hearts are so close, and Moka is holding onto her.

"I shouldn't have," Yunah pants, "shouldn't have lied to myself. Shouldn't have tried to ignore this."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not okay." She can feel Moka's lips brushing against hers. They're so close. It's just a little movement to close the distance between them, but Moka does it. She pushes her head up, and then Yunah's lips part. She kisses her and Yunah can't help but kiss her back, her tongue slipping into her mouth. Their tongues swirl and slide. Moka moans against her lips. The sound sends shivers down her spine. And Yunah wants her. She wants her so bad.

Moka is panting when Yunah breaks the kiss.

"It's okay now," Moka whispers, her breath ghosting over her. Yunah feels so weak. She's completely helpless.

"I think we need to talk about some stuff. But not now, not right now."

"No, not now," Moka replies with a giggle, leaning up and stealing another kiss.

Yunah gives her a lazy smile, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. She rolls onto her back, lying next to Moka, their legs still half-tangled. They lie in a comfortable silence. It feels so natural and normal as if it were always supposed to happen, that they were always meant to end up here. Yunah turns and looks at her, watching Moka stare at the ceiling.

"Is it weird that I want to do it again?" Yunah asks.

"Probably," Moka answers. She looks at her, grinning, "But so do I."

-

Thirty minutes later and Yunah finds herself mounted over Moka's face.

She's on her knees, straddling the girl, and the tip of her tongue is tracing patterns against her cunt. She's writing out love letters with her tongue. Signs her name on her clit and makes her legs shake.

Yunah braces, flat-palmed against the wall and throws her head back as she cries out Moka's name, grinding her pussy against the tongue. Sensitive and overused, yet still she wants this. She has to. It's not an option at this point. She's going to ride her until she can't possibly take anymore.

There's no coming back from this. There is only this, them, this room. The whole world has fallen away. It doesn't matter.

Moka is all that matters.

The warm tongue pushes past her lips and sinks into the soft heat, tasting her from the inside. She's moaning into Yunah's cunt, sending the most beautiful vibrations against her and Yunah is so fucking sensitive. Her thighs are shaking and she feels weak, she's struggling to hold herself up, but she can't bring herself to get off her.

"Your tongue, fuck," Yunah moans. The wet tongue laps at the mess, licking up her slick. Yunah can feel Moka swallowing, gulping her down, her little noises growing louder as she feasts. She's going to cum all over that pretty face. She's going to ruin Moka's perfect features and make them shine. Yunah is so close. She can't stop herself from thrusting forward. Her pussy is aching for more, throbbing as Moka eats her. She needs this, wants this.

"Moka... I can't stop, please don't stop," Yunah pants, pushing herself back onto her. Moka grips Yunah's thighs and digs her nails into them. "Fuck!" Yunah squeals. Her hips jerk forward. It's happening. It's too much. Moka's tongue won't stop, it swirls inside of her, and Yunah's legs are trembling.

Her thighs close tight around Moka's face, trapping it between her legs and her back arches, her mouth open, her voice hoarse and broken as she cums, and the walls inside of her clench tight.

And Moka is still eating her out. Yunah can feel the hot mess dripping from her pussy. She feels so sensitive. She can barely stand it, and her body twitches and spasms, and her heart pounds so hard. Her mind blanks. She's so tired, her body aching and exhausted, but her pussy still wants more.

"Yunah," Moka calls to her, patting her thigh and bringing her back from the brink of collapse, "Yunah, I can't breathe." Her little, muffled pleas have her snapping back to reality, realising that Moka's face has gone bright red. Yunah shifts, and she watches the way the girl gasps for air.

"Fuck, Moka." Yunah climbs from her and collapses beside her, chest heaving, sweat coating her skin. "Are you alright?"

Moka doesn't respond at first. She lays there, taking a breath and then she's turning, moving and climbing onto Yunah. "More than alright."

Yunah smiles at her, a sleepy smile that makes Moka blush, and she reaches up to push her black hair from her eyes. Her pretty little eyes are half-lidded and glazed, and her cheeks are rosy and flushed. Lips wet, with Yunah's arousal, it might be the hottest thing she's ever seen. "You're so pretty."

Moka giggles, a bashful laugh as she looks away. "Stop it."

"No," Yunah whispers with a smirk that she knows Moka likes. "I won't."

She flips Moka over and the girl lands with a yelp, a surprised and adorable little sound. She takes her liberties, to kiss and to bite, to suck her skin. Yunah is marking her. Deep kisses on her neck, bites that make Moka's body flinch and writhe, and her little noises are like the prettiest melody in the world. "So pretty," she repeats. "All mine."

Yunah moves down her body, her kisses trailing and leaving little bruises. She sucks her nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue, sucking and nibbling on the stiff peak and making Moka's body buck up. Her mouth goes to the underside of her breasts, to the flat expanse of her stomach. She sinks her teeth in and Moka is whining. Her back is arched, her head pushed back and she's gripping the sheets, and Yunah is getting closer and closer to her destination. "My pretty girl," she murmurs into the smooth skin.

"Yunah," Moka whines and Yunah looks up, finding her staring, biting her lip. Her eyes are wide and desperate, pleading.

She lifts Moka's leg and kisses the back of her thigh. The younger girl is so sensitive. Her skin shivers as Yunah's mouth moves closer to her core. "Once we're home, Moka, I want to fuck you. Like really fuck you, hard, fast. I've seen those videos. What you watch when you're on your own." Moka squeals and her face goes crimson. She covers her head with a pillow. Yunah can't help the smile as she continues, "I want to do those things with you. One of those strap-ons. You'll look so pretty taking it."

Yunah kisses the girl's clit and Moka's entire body flinches. A hand shoots to Yunah's hair and grabs tight, holding onto the locks. She smiles against her, teasing her pussy, her mouth kissing and sucking on the lips of her cunt. "You can do anything you want to me," Moka gasps. Yunah can't help the laugh that slips out, a laugh of amusement and happiness, and Moka is squirming.

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that." Yunah kisses the mess from her lips, and Moka lets out the cutest, most frustrated noise, her hips lifting and her back arching.

"You can use me."

Yunah stops for a second. She raises her head and finds Moka looking at her. There is a blush to her cheeks and she looks embarrassed, and maybe even a little shy, but that glint in her eye is undeniable.

Yunah lowers herself, pressing a soft kiss to Moka's inner thigh. She takes her time, making a show of it, and Moka's breathing is getting heavier, more impatient. "Yeah?" She kisses her again. "Let me bend you over?" Another kiss. "Hold your face down on the bed while I fuck you?"

"Please," Moka whines, "Yes, yes."

"What else?" Yunah's eyes flick up. Moka's chest is rising, falling, rising.

Moka whines again. She throws her head back. Her body trembles. Yunah kisses her cunt. It's a deep kiss. It has Moka's hips bucking against her lips. "You can be rough with me," she finally manages, her voice breathy.

"Rough?" Yunah's eyebrow arches. She dips her tongue past the wet entrance and laps at Moka's heat. The girl's body is writhing against her mouth and Yunah can't help the muffled giggle. She's so cute like this, so easy to tease. Moka is panting. Her face is contorted in a desperate need for more, for release.

"If you want to," she mumbles, and Yunah is so tempted to tease her further. But Yunah is just as eager. She is so desperate for more of her taste, her body, her scent.

"Maybe," she whispers against the wet lips, "maybe, I'd rather be soft with you." Yunah sinks two fingers into her tight, wet hole. Moka gasps, and then moans. Yunah's mouth latches to the little nub of her clit, sucking it and swirling her tongue. The fingers thrust into her and curl. The walls tighten and tremble. "Take my time, fuck you slowly."

Yunah starts a slow rhythm with her fingers. Moka is whimpering, moaning and trying to buck into the fingers. But Yunah is stronger. Her free hand grabs the younger girl's thigh and forces her down, keeping her still and making her accept the pace.

"Slowly," Yunah repeats, "So slow you'll think it's torture. And I won't let you cum, not for a long time, until you can't bear it anymore." She kisses the skin, kisses her pussy, and then looks at Moka who's staring. She's flushed, her eyes wide and needy, her lips parted, and her body is trembling. "Until your little body is begging for release." She pushes another finger into Moka. She can feel the tightness around her digits and the way she throbs.

"Oh fuck," Moka moans.

"Or maybe I'll fuck you hard and fast." Yunah pushes down hard on Moka's thigh, and the pace picks up, the fingers slamming in and out. The lewd, wet sounds that Moka makes are enough to drive her crazy, the sloppy, messy sounds that come with every thrust and the sight of Moka's pussy, spread wide, stretched and accepting everything she's given, it has Yunah's head spinning. She feels delirious, high off of the pleasure she can give this pretty girl. "Hard, fast. Pound your pussy and make your entire body ache. Make you scream, make you beg me to stop because you can't handle anymore."

Moka's throat strains, and her body tenses. "I can't," Moka moans and Yunah can feel her pussy twitching, clenching around the digits inside of her. So easily does she cum against Yunah's fingers, and she's crying out, loud, without restraint. She doesn't even try to hold it back, and she's so wet. Her cum is leaking out, soaking her fingers, and it's the hottest thing Yunah has ever seen. She can't take her eyes away. She can't look anywhere but the way that Moka is cumming against her fingers.

She curls her fingers a little more and moves a little faster. The flow of cum becomes stronger, and Yunah can't stop the groan that leaves her. "Fuck." Moka's body is thrashing, she's whining and whimpering, and then it sprays a little, her cum, squirting from her and soaking her hand, her arm, the sheets. It leaks and sprays, it's the hottest thing she's ever seen, and Moka's body is spasming. Her hips are bucking and the moans sound so pretty.

And then Moka goes limp, she collapses onto the mattress and pants. She's staring up at the ceiling and her body is still trembling and shaking. Cum still leaking out and staining the sheets. All she sees are stars; pretty, beautiful stars.

"I'll never get tired of seeing you do that," Yunah murmurs as she pulls her soaked hand away.

"Shut up." Moka giggles and pulls her hands to her face. She covers her blushing face. "It's so embarrassing," she mumbles into her palms.

Yunah laughs, climbing from between her legs and lying next to her. Moka turns, lying on her side. "It's not," she whispers, "it's hot." Yunah runs her hand up Moka's bare thigh. Her hand slides to her ass and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Really hot."

[starredblood]

FADE INTO YOU

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: you live in a small secluded town in jeju where nothing ever happens until a girl with a face made of stone moved in. however, her disillusion about life makes your strange relationship with her complicated—further conflicting each others lives.

wc. 6.2k

warnings: situationship to ???, angst, little bit of fluff and comfort, use of alcohol and cigarettes, brief mentions of sexual intimacy, reader is very melancholic

(masterlist)

Living in a place that people dream of visiting is gloomier than you imagined it would be. Beautiful green scenery, pale blue skies, and waves crashing—it was paradise. The people, they were quieter and much more at peace with life than in the bustling cities back in the mainland. Unlike the corporate driven lifestyle you were surrounded with back in Seoul, it felt like time permanently stopped here in Jeju. You didn’t have to rush anything, especially living in a small tucked away town right beside the seashore.

The problem back in Seoul was that you were dissatisfied with your direction in life. But that ache in your chest still seeped into your new life here in Jeju. So, you think it’s not a location problem—it’s a you problem. There’s something wrong with you.

And you need something to get you going. Like now.

It might’ve been late afternoon by the time you heard several hard knocks coming from your bedroom. You let out irritated groans by the nonstop banging, still not intending to be awake at this hour in the day. To prevent the noise blaring through your eardrums you grab your unused pillow and press it to your face so your head could be sandwiched in between pillows.

But you heard a stern, equally as irritated muffle on the other end. “Hey? Are you awake?” you hear your older sister whine.

Her knocking was relentless and you knew she wasn’t going to stop until you reveal yourself from hibernating in your dark and depressed bedroom. “Coming.” you croak out.

You rub your eyes and lazily place your feet on the ground. It took all of your strength to get off your bed and walk over to your door. Stumbling in the process, you finally reach for the doorknob.

Your sister stood there with her arms crossed and forming a look of disgust at your current state. “Count Orlok, you live in a place with the most beautiful views maybe try opening your curtains.”

She comes inside your room and yanks open the dark curtains. Your eyes squint trying to adjust your irises to the blaring summer sunlight. The light gray sand behind your room made your room shine brighter thanks to the reflection of the sun bouncing off of the sand.

“What do you want? I don’t work today.” you ask her, watching peevishly as she picks up your dirty laundry off the ground—a habit of hers.

“Mom and dad are coming later tonight.” she explains and starts rummaging through your closet.

“You could’ve just sent me this over text instead of barging in here.” you retort, watching as she picked out clothes for you to wear. This is what your sister does, she loves control. And you just let her because you don’t want to move back to your parents.

“I came here because if I sent a text I knew you’d ignore it. You have to get ready now.” she says strictly. She sighs in disappointment when you let out another tired whine and flop on top of your bed. “Seriously are you depressed or something?”

“What? No—would you quit asking that?” you stammer and reach to hug your pillow, nuzzling into it and flutter your eyes closed. “I’m just…bored.”

“Bored?” she scoffs mockingly. “You’re the one that didn’t want to keep living with mom and dad. If you want to go back to by all means go. But if you’re staying then get ready.”

She tosses the clothes she wants you to wear straight to your face. When she storms out your room you began to incant quiet curses at her.

You used to have a great relationship with your family because you did everything they wanted you to do to the tea. It got ruined the moment you decided to navigate your own decisions about how you want to live life. Although you know dropping out of college and living with your sister isn’t the most ideal pathway, it was better than what you dealt with back home. But your parents don’t get it. They didn’t see the constant cries for help, instead they saw the dropping grades.

It didn’t help that your sister replaced you as their new golden child. She is a small business owner in Jeju and owns a house with her fiancée. And you’re staying in the room that is technically meant for their future baby—in the works.

“So, how’s your sister behaving?” your dad asks your sister about you. The only thing you could do was silently roll your eyes and keep eating.

Tonight the dining table was packed—even your sister’s fiancée was here who is known to be a workaholic. And of course, your parents couldn’t help themselves by trying to embarrass you the moment dinner was served.

“All she does is stay in her room.” she replies shaking her head while cutting her steak. “Whenever we want to have a meal all together she just prefers eating in her room.”

“Now, sweetie,” you mom sighs giving you a disapproving look. “why don’t you want to eat with them? It’s the least you could do after taking up one of their rooms.”

“And it’s their future baby’s room.” your dad adds with a mocking laugh.

“It’s fine, sir,” your sister’s fiancée claims calmly. “we aren’t in a rush to kick anyone out.”

You don’t wish to acknowledge them and continue to play with your food. There was a time where they used to praise you for your intelligence and grit. But ever since you gave up, you’ve become numb to their backhanded comments and criticism.

Yet deep down you know they’re right. When your sister finally has her baby you can’t live with them anymore so you need to start thinking about your future now or it’ll be too late. But it’s already late.

“You’re too kind, boy.” your mom says to the fiancée, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Maybe what she needs is a good man like you. Do you have any single, good men in your family that will be interested in my lazy daughter?”

“Mom.” you say to her warningly, throwing her a stern expression. You hear the fiancée chortle.

“What?” she asks innocently. “If you aren’t going to college then your future as an independent woman is over. You’ll need to find a man with a well established job if you want to live a good life. We’re all just looking out for you, honey.”

Exhaling a long dramatic sigh, you push your seat back and get up. You couldn’t stand it anymore—their never ending berating. When you walk away you hear all of them call out your name and telling you to come back down to eat. But you aren’t hungry, you’re tired. Tired of filling the space.

When you go up to your room you change out of the clothing your sister picked out for you and opt in for a lightweight sweater and sweats. You sneak back down the stairs and exit the house without being heard from your family, who you can hear still talking at the dining table.

The walk from the house to seashore was brief. It was nothing but you, your thoughts and the sound of waves crashing tonight because you don’t intend to go back until late in the night. And your family won’t get worried, they know that this is your way of throwing a tantrum.

Once you sat down on the soft part of the sand, you press your knees up to your chest then rest your chin on top of your kneecaps and stare at the salty water. This was your new favorite pastime. You used to have such a short attention span until coming here to Jeju. Everything about Jeju was slow and peaceful which is just what your tired body needs after putting yourself through twenty years of academic stress.

Unaware of how long you’ve been sitting in the sand and staring at the ocean, a silhouette emerges from the shadows. There is only one other person who would deliberately keep to themselves and use the beach as a form of refuge.

In routinely fashion, Sae-byeok approaches your lonely figure and sits down next to you without uttering a single word. Her long limbs stretch out in the sand and she also maintains her eyes on the ocean.

Your relationship with Kang Sae-byeok (if you couldn’t even call it that) was blurry. In the few months you’ve known her, it was easy to be around her. You never felt pressured to talk or to fake niceties with her. However, Sae-byeok’s guardedness and intimidation was ultimately the reason the two of you never got close. It’s hard to even consider the stoic girl a friend. And you think she’s fine with that.

Ever since she’s moved in this small town in Jeju, you felt a tad bit less lonely sharing the comfort of knowing there’s another girl your age living close by. But you still have so many questions to ask her. What do you do for a living to afford to live in one of the nicest house alone? Where are your parents? Are they wealthy? You don’t have a single clue about her and she wants to keep it that way.

And all Sae-byeok knows about you is that you don’t have a single clue about anything anymore—you just exist to fill the space. Or at least, that’s the way you explained your life to her.

The salty aroma, the sound of the waves sloshing and the cool breeze was enough to lull you to sleep. While slowly shutting your eyes, you almost forgot Sae-byeok’s silent presence was still there. Sleep was overtaking your body.

“What’re you doing here?” you hear her low hoarse ask you. You’re in a place where she speaks in full sentences now.

“Hiding.” you reply softly and open your eyes to look at her beautiful face. It was entrancing how the moonlight reflected onto her best features.

Her eyes start moving to stare down at her feet and she nods. “From?” she adds quietly.

“My parents. They’re here to visit my sister and her fiancée for the weekend.” you sigh.

When she glances up to face you, there is no longer the hesitation to avoid peering into your eyes like she did months ago. You know your strange bond with Sae-byeok is a little bizarre but you find her guarded presence a little comforting too.

“They aren’t here to see you?” she questions, her tone flat as usual but you paid attention to the way her eyebrows quirked for a second.

You hum in thought before shrugging. “I don’t know. They haven’t been happy with me recently.”

Maybe that little flicker in her eyes was pity because it made your heart clench. She must think about you like they do.

After you go back to observe the darkly illuminated ocean, you felt a warm hand softly grab the back of your head. You didn’t have time to react before feeling a soft pair of lips gently press yours.

This wasn’t going to be one of those typical nights of silence, that you’re sure of. Tonight is a rare moment in time where Sae-byeok is yearning for the affection of another and you’re always the one chosen to fill that void in her heart. But like everything Sae-byeok does, it’s a fleeting moment of affection that vanishes when morning comes.

And tonight, you weren’t having her push and pull antics after that disaster dinner with your family. You don’t initially react to the kiss and stiffly remain in the same position. The feeling lingered for a brief second before Sae-byeok pulled away. Her usual sharp gaze went completely soft as she slowly drew back after staring at your face centimeters close.

“Did I…?” she trails off unsurely.

You hesitate. “I feel like I don’t know you—“

“I told you that it’s better for us if you don’t know anything.” she sighs, sounding insecure and starts drawing shapes in the sand. “It’s easier this way.”

“…For you maybe.” you murmur quiet enough for her not to hear. You don’t need any more uncertainties in your life.

This was something new you both did—share stolen kisses. And if you’re both feeling extra lonely, then it would lead to something much deeper and vulnerable but that only occurred twice. Although it feels nice to be with her in the moment, you didn’t want her just for a brief period.

Without saying anything else, you feel her body shifting and the sound of shoes crunching on sand. You didn’t glance back at her when she started walking away. This was something she did when you tried getting close to her—she runs away.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

The salty air stung your face as you rode your bike to the boutique. At first, the smell was burning your nostrils but like everything in life, the feeling subsides. By the time you make it to the shop, your skin is hot by the sun glaring underneath you and your legs sore from pedaling fast. You were a few minutes late.

Once you’re in front of the boutique, you stop pedaling and hop off your bike. You didn’t see your sister this morning but you’re crossing your fingers she’s running errands instead of working. She already gave you a warning a few days ago about your tardiness and you don’t want to face her wrath again.

When you roll your bike to the back of the store you heard two familiar voices that shouldn’t coincide in the same vicinity. You hold your breath when you turn the corner and duck your head low.

You don’t know why Sae-byeok was here. She was leaning against the wall next to your coworker Ji-yeong, sharing a cigarette and giggling amongst each other like drunken friends. But when they spotted you coming around the corner, they mellowed out. You pretend not to see them, turn up the music in your headphones and quickly rest your bike against the wall.

A strange feeling in your stomach brews seeing them together like that. You were never seen with Sae-byeok in broad daylight—all of your interactions were hidden underneath the moonlight. It was a conflict feeling but then again, you don’t know a thing about her. So, you should stop setting yourself up to get hurt for no good reason.

Throughout your shift, you try to interact with international tourists as best as you can while suggesting an item of clothing. It was hard to force a customer service smile when you could see the two girls from the corner of your eyes, chatting by the counter.

You force your mind to think you’re upset that Ji-yeong is making you do all the customer service work while she does nothing. But deep down, you might be jealous. You thought you had something special with Sae-byeok…she doesn’t even smile that widely with you.

After finishing helping the customers as best as you can with the language barrier, you hide in the corner of the store arranging a rack that didn’t need to be fixed. But you couldn’t go anywhere else in this small shop without looking at Ji-yeong and Sae-byeok, so this was the only spot where you couldn’t see them.

“What’re you doing here?” a voice asks demandingly. You jump and snap your eyes to look at your sister, whose arms were crossed. “Well?”

“Cleaning.” you reply with a straight face. Of course she isn’t buying it. “What do you want me to do? It’s practically empty here right now besides those two tourist still in the store.”

She rolls her eyes and fixates her eyes on something ahead. “Hey, isn’t that your friend? The weird quiet one with, Ji?”

“Shut up.” you hiss.

She blinks like she was studying your anxious demeanor until she heard the sound of the door ring. “Look, go help them—they look rich.”

After another thirty minutes, Sae-byeok finally left the shop without uttering a word to you. To be fair, you were just helping customers but she didn’t look at you either. You try to swallow back the pain of rejection.

“I’m going on break.” you mutter to Ji-yeong who was ringing a customer at the counter. She curtly nods, barely any acknowledgment to your being as well.

Outside the boutique your sister bought an expensive bench painted white to match the rest of the shops exterior. You like to sit outside it for your break and observe the passerby’s. This town is much busier than your small, boring one. It’s filled with tourists, bikers, photographers and clumsy kids.

Five minutes into your break you feel someone sit beside you.

“You’re ignoring me now?” Sae-byeok mutters, shoving her hands into the pocket of her hoodie.

You barely look at her before shaking your head. “What did you want me to do? Jump in joy?”

She snorts and starts observing the crowd walking up and down the sidewalk too. “Ji-yeong invited me to this party—you should come.”

You fight back the urge to ask her about Ji-yeong and their history together. “I’m alright.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment to think. “Just come.” she says much quieter. You give her a skeptical look. She sighs at it. “It’s just in case I’m lonely there. I already said I’d go.”

“So, I’m just going to be there to fill the space?” you question, your voice shaking slightly by hurt. “No thanks.” you whisper.

“I didn’t mean it like that—I’m sorry.” she deadpans so you don’t believe she is.

You shake your head one last time and throw on your headphones. Since you only have a few minutes left to your break and you don’t want her to ruin it, you turn your body away to face her. It felt childish but you didn’t want her to see the pained expression on your face.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

You press your back to the wall, drinking out of your plastic red cup awkwardly as you watch a crowd of people dance up against each other—the lights flickering with color like a kaleidoscope in the ceiling.

It never dawned on you that you would ever be at a party on the mansion located in the hills of Jeju. For most residents here, their life goal is to be invited to a mansion party in this island. To get their small taste of the Great Gatsby. Although this wasn’t nowhere near as luxurious, it was still a big place with high ceilings, marble columns, and illegal drugs. Everything a rich person party needs and it made you feel out of place. They definitely party different—but most of the people here look like people your age so how different can they be?

You arrived to this party all alone. Sae-byeok wasn’t responding to your texts so for the first thirty minutes, you just took sips from your alcoholic beverage and walked around the mansion like it was a museum. It basically was a museum seeing as there were large intricate paintings and portraits carefully hung on the walls.

When you made it to the second floor, you started to get lost and after minutes of trying to find your way down the stairs you end up in an open space that looked like a smaller living room. A group of people occupied this space and turned to look at you when you froze by the entrance.

“Hey! Come over—don’t be shy!” a drunken voice slurs when you turned your back to walk away.

You quietly wince—without much of a choice you drag yourself over to them. A few kept their glazed eyes on you, others were too busy brewing an alcohol beverage that looked strong enough to make someone pass out. The person who called you over pats to the last empty seat next to them. It was a girl, short hair and multiple facial piercings.

“Now we have a full house!” she cheers once you sat down but no one acknowledged it, or least ignored her.

You peer at anything but the group of people chatting amongst each other. It was awkward being the only person not engaging in small talk so you keep taking swigs out of your drink. Now, you have to figure out how to slip out of this room without anyone noticing.

“Smoke?” the girl next to you asks, offering an already lit up cigarette to you.

You hesitantly stare at it. Since your dad was a heavy smoker, you were always intrigued by it. Screw it, you think, what else do I have to lose? You already lost everything.

When you nod, she holds the cigarette for you as you inhale the toxic smoke. Of course, you began choking up on the smoke and start coughing it out, your mouth and nostrils blowing out the grey smoke like a train engine. The girl laughs and starts patting your back.

“First time?” she asks, laughing and you only respond with a beet red face. “You didn’t inhale right. Breathe it in a little bit more deeper so it actually goes to your lungs.” she says and observes you as you try again. This time you didn’t choke up. “There you go.”

You never got her name but she offered you the strange alcohol concoction some dudes that looked blacked out drunk made. And with your mind already buzzing, you just took the cup and began drinking it. By the time you finished it, you were too afraid to move out of this couch with your head already spinning. It didn’t help that the people gathered around were blasting their own music and hopping on the seats like a bouncy castle—it only made you even more dizzy. But you couldn’t help but drunkenly giggle along side the girl next to you when one of the guys fell backwards on the couch.

She offers you another puff from her cigarette and you take it. When you place it between your teeth you see someone snatch it from your mouth. You peer up and see a hazy vision of the girl who led you to this party in the first place.

“There you fucking are. I was calling you.” she snarls, but her voice seeps of worry. You didn’t catch it however, your mind was too buzzed to properly catch her subtle cues. “Are you drunk?”

“I’m so tired…” you slur, resting your head in her lap. “All the time.”

Sae-byeok sighs and rakes her fingers through your hair, watching as you start lulling to sleep on her lap. But you couldn’t fall asleep just yet. The thought of dragging you out of this party and to your house already is making her body tired.

Sae-byeok knows better than you just drop you off home, knowing how hot headed your sister can be. She’s seen the way she barks order at you in her boutique. But it made her nervous bringing you to her house to spend the night. Ever since she bought the house with the prize money, she never allowed anyone in—she always thought the first people who would step in would be Cheol and her mom. But that’s what she gets for bringing more people into her life.

She crinkles her nose in disgust as she holds up your hair while your face was stuck in the toilet bowl, throwing up all the alcohol in your system. Once you’re done hacking like your life depended on it, you groan in pain and press your body on the tile wall of Sae-byeok’s bathroom—still unable to grasp that you’re actually in her house. But your mind is still loopy you couldn’t think about it too hard unless you wanted to throw up again.

You could feel the weight of her stare on your sad sprawled figure as you recollect yourself. “I’m not that drunk. Just dizzy.” you grumble at her, hugging your sore stomach.

“Whatever you say.” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Stay here—I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

After several minutes go by, she reappears with her worn out sweats and a band tee shirt. Her posture slumps when she sees you burying your crying face on your propped up knees. “Hey, why are you crying?” she asks in a softer tone, kneeling down to be at your level.

But you didn’t reply and maybe it wasn’t appropriate for her to ask you in your drunken state. So, she lifts you off the bathroom floor and guides you to her bedroom. When you lay on her bed, eyes already half lidded trying to fight back sleep, she chews on the inside of her cheek to think. You still have to change but you’re in a worn out state to physically be able to do it. It wouldn’t be weird for her to undress you and put on your clothes for you right? She’s seen you without any clothes twice before.

You don’t react when she starts pulling up your shirt, exposing your upper body to the cool air nipping your skin. And after she’s done putting on her sweats on you, you’re already asleep. She stares at your face, your mouth parted open slightly and cheeks tinted red from the alcohol. But she couldn’t help but worry about the tear marks across your face that didn’t dry up yet.

Once Sae-byeok finished doing her short nighttime routine she rolls next to you on her bed. She naturally spoons you, wrapping one of her arms around your waist and nestles her head into the crook of your neck. After inhaling the fresh scent of perfume and cigarettes on you she could feel her own sober self lull to slumber.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Head throbbing and limbs weak. That’s the first thing you felt when your eyes began to naturally flutter open. It took sometime to assess the place you woke up in and how you even got here in the first place. Your heart sunk when you remembered the hazy details. The sheer embarrassment of it all made you slam your face in the pillow and let out a groggily groan.

You are pathetic and an idiot. Sae-byeok saw the weakest form of you and you might never live it down. But surely you couldn’t have been that embarrassing? It’s not like you blacked out.

But now, you were afraid to leave the room feeling like you already trespassed enough. But Sae-byeok had to be somewhere in the house, she wouldn’t have left you here all by yourself you hope.

When you toss aside the sheets you gasp seeing the unfamiliar set of oversized clothes on your body. You’re conflicted whether to feel special or embarrassed with the fact she let you wear her clothes.

Sae-byeok’s room is…sad. She has no decorations that mark this room as hers except for her belongings mindlessly left on top of her night stand—her keys, wallet, and cigarette pack. It gets even stranger when you carefully step outside—the floor and walls were empty canvases.

You heard plates and silverware’s cluttering as you walked across the hallway. Naturally, you stiffen up and hug your body feeling exposed when you realized Ji-yeong was cooking something up in the kitchen and Sae-byeok leaning across the island counter, sipping from her mug. But only Ji-yeong turned to acknowledge you.

“Hey.” she greets casually. “I’m making breakfast, you want some? It’s not the best but probably will help if you eat something. Sae told me you got absolutely shitfaced last night—same here.” she snorts.

Your cheeks blaze up. When you glance over at Sae-byeok, your heart gets heavy seeing her act as if you were invisible to her. Did you piss her off last night thanks to your drunken stupor?

Feeling exposed and conflicted, you let out a low, “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?” Ji-yeong asks. “I don’t mind making another plate.”

You softly shake your throbbing head. “I’m just…going home.”

She doesn’t argue with you, only purses her lips and nods. You look at Sae-byeok again, still nothing. So you awkwardly shuffle back to her room to gather your things. You hope all your belongings are here anyways.

When you find your clothes folded by the edge of Sae-byeok’s drawer you press them to your chest and smell the stench of alcohol and cigarettes on them. You peer down and contemplate changing or walking away with the clothes you have on. That’s when the door creaks open behind you.

“Why aren’t you going to eat?” is the first thing she says to you. She leans her body against the door, keeping you trapped here as she hardens her gaze on you.

“I just want to go home.” you mutter in defeat, feeling small underneath her stare. “I’ll eat there.”

“Fine.” she exhales. “And…why were you crying last night?”

You swallow thickly. “I didn’t know I was…”

“You do.” she says coolly. “You weren’t that drunk by the time we got home. We both know that.”

You know that last night, you cried about everything in your life. The fact that you completely disappointed your parents for good, your sister sees you as a nuisance in her home, and you can never have Sae-byeok the way you want her. And you let it spiral a little out of control last night. But she isn’t with you and she isn’t your friend, so she doesn’t need to know.

“My head is too foggy right now. Just let me go please.” you croak out. She still doesn’t move out of the way. “Do you want me to give you your clothes back?”

Her posture slouches in defeat. “No. But can we just…just meet me later tonight at our spot, okay? We should probably talk.”

You don’t say anything. Actually, you didn’t much all day leading up to the night you met up with Sae-byeok. Because the moment you got home, all you did was stay locked up in your room with a throbbing headache and anticipating the night. You kept replaying the last thing she said to you in your head over and over trying to figure out what possibly would she want to talk about with you.

When midnight rolled around you threw on your black jacket and tossed the hoodie over your head, carrying Sae-byeok’s clothes with you as you snuck out the house.

Once you made it to your designated spot at the seashore, she was already there. She also had a hoodie thrown over her head but you knew it was her furiously typing on her phone. You took a deep breath before heading to sit next to her. As you sat down, you saw her face contort with frustration thanks to her phone softly illuminating over her face. She turns it off when she sees you silently waiting for her.

“Thanks.” she grumbles when you pass over her clothes and rests them on her lap.

“So,” you began airily. “why did you want to meet?”

She presses her lips together and pulls her knees to her chest in a guarded position that made you more nervous. “I just wanted to tell you that it was great having you around…before you I was pretty lonely—in general…And you’re sort of the first person I’ve ever been intimate with. But I realize how unhappy we both are and I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.”

For the first time, she finds herself struggling to look over her shoulder to see your face. You shut your eyes to stop your eyes from filling with tears and prepare yourself to listen to the rest of her explanation. Even if it left an achy feeling in your heart.

“I’m—broken, okay?” Sae-byeok trembles. “I can’t make you happy. Not when I can’t make myself happy.”

You start sniffling. It was so obvious, wasn’t it? You always thought that things would never work out with someone as closed off and cold as Sae-byeok but hearing her say it out loud stung more than the past thoughts. But she was right, neither of you were in the right state of mind. It still pissed you off though.

“Fuck you.” you whisper at her, your tone rough but heartbroken. All those stolen kisses and rare nights spent tangled underneath the sheets were turning into bittersweet memories in real time.

Just as you cursed at her, the waves came hurling down twice as big than they normally do. You gasp when the cold salty water soaked your pants. The two of you start scrambling backwards and the contact of the water. Sae-byeok stares at you wide eyed as you mumbled multiple curses while frowning down at your drenched pants.

After the fleeting cursing, you whip your hear up at the sky and see the full moon shining brightly underneath you.

“I—I’m going I can’t—“

“No. Please.” Sae-byeok silently begs, firmly wrapping her hand around your wrist to prevent you from moving. This was the first time you heard her speak in such a vulnerable tone. She walks around you to fully face you, breath hitching but looking deeply into your eyes. “If I ever get my shit together…do you think we could give this a chance maybe?”

You shake your head. “Sae-byeok, I can’t predict the future.”

“Okay but just—“

“What about me?!” you retort back louder than you expect to sound. She immediately closes her mouth, eyes rounding. “Have you ever thought about how I feel? About my life? Do you even care at all? Sae-byeok…I’m so lonely and confused! Did you know I dropped out of law school?” you ask pressing your finger to her chest causing her to stumble backwards without saying a word. “No, you didn’t! And you never cared to ask about why my parents never thought to see me because—I disappointed them! So…So that’s why I moved in with my sister because I couldn’t stand the ridicules anymore but she is losing patience with me by the day so I bet it’s only a matter of time before she kicks me out. But…you made me feel seen. I thought what we had was sacred and special—and I held onto the hope that maybe one day you’d realize that too. But you don’t really want me—you like the idea or probably because you’re even more lonely than I am that you’re desperate for affection.”

By the time you finished talking, she already dropped your hand. You didn’t dare to face her when your eyes were swimming with tears and your body shaken up from the cold and heartbreak. And when you finally turned around to walk away, deep down you wished that she would stop you and fight for you. But if she doesn’t have any fight left in her, then that was a sign enough for you to leave.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Sae-byeok began watching you from afar. The morning bike rides you took to your sister’s boutique, when you sat outside your porch and staring down at the ground in deep thought, and the nights you laid on the beach. She left you completely alone.

As the days gone by she wondered if she’d ever get the pieces of herself back together. But the nightmares never really leave, no matter how much money the world can offer—the horrors she endured and witnessed never got better like she hoped.

After the bus ride back from Cheol’s foster home, she checks the calendar on her phone. In just two months, if things go smoothly, she’ll finally reunite with her mother and she can finally get back her small family together.

When those two months turned into one month, Sae-byeok started to notice you weren’t around anymore. She knows how much you like secluding yourself in your room, but Ji-yeong hasn’t heard from you and she hasn’t seen you on your routinely biking ride in the mornings. One night, she waited by the seashore hoping you’d appear but obviously you never showed up. She felt stupid for even trying to hope.

She broke your heart—you had every right to disappear from her life. But you aren’t physically around.

So, the night before she had to go pick up her mother from the airport she decided to take matters into her own hand.

Her sweaty hands knock on the door to your sister’s house. After a few minutes someone finally answers and it was your sister. The first thing she noticed was her slightly round protruding belly.

“Oh, it’s you.” she hums sounding disappointed and leans against the door frame. “Is there something you need?”

Sae-byeok inhales deeply first. “Is she here?”

Your sister stares at her blankly before an uneasy expression started to form. “She didn’t tell you?” she asks and Sae-byeok remains frozen in place with her heart hammering out of her chest. “She went back to live with our parents to study law again. Left like…two months ago?”

“Oh.” she says lowly, trying not to make her face look readable. “Thanks.”

Your sister raises a brow, feeling skeptical of her odd appearance. But she just watches as she slumps in posture whilst slowly dragging her feet out of her property before closing the door behind her.

Sae-byeok chokes back tears and recalls the events of the last time you two spoken. It hits her—you never promised her anything. Of course you left without a trace.

Now she can only ever wonder, if she told you that night she wanted to be with you, would you have stayed?

🏷️: @tyresedidujsfart @yourstalkergirlfriend @yenyu1s @we1rdth0ughts @asappywriter @lilylamps @am4lv0da @everly-summers-solace @peelover25 @saebyeokbliss @noaanotfound @jumpedthenfell-13 @tlouloser @lyzem @thisuserisxnangel @knfthxv @laurenkenss @ninistranaut @stellssxo @bitchybananaflower @gummyoonji @marfe816 @knvschau @monroesturnns

[healedlover]

CLICKBAITED!

summary: in which your co worker ends up inside you... in front of the camera. pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader cw: camboy!nanami, p in v, dirty talk, Masturbation, Sex toys, one night stand, perv nanami, cumming inside a/n: not proof read and finally wrote camboy nanami

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

“Today is going to be a quick stream, alright?”

The chat sent sad faces and other messages showing their disappointment and Nanami just chuckled as he unbuckled his pants.

“My first day of work is tomorrow, I…ngh…won’t have time to get ready.”

His fingers continued the slow movements on his cock as he watched the chat donate and send a bunch of messages. Nanami adjusted his mask before changing the video on his second monitor, so he could cum quicker.

But nothing was working, he let out a small whine as he continued clicking to the next page, quicker and quicker so he could find an appealing video.

"Keep the donations...going"

guest1 donated $500: strip plz!!!

"Yeah? You want me to take off my shirt, hm?" Nanami teased, his free hand roamed on his tight collared shirt and he plucked each button off, one by one.

"Is this what you wanted?"

guest127: yesss

guest2: faster! yes!

"Oh? the last button is stuck." Nanami frowned, glancing at the chat before ripping his entire shirt off, revealing his bare chest. The chat exploded with excitement. Nanami grinned as the praises and compliments started to roll in.

His fingers tightened around his cock as he movements grew quicker, more intense, and now, finally, he was close to release.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He moaned.

with one final stroke a streak of cum spurted all over his stomach. He left out a few breathless pants as he slumped down on his chair. The stream continued to donate and chat amongst themselves as he watched Nanami's tired state in the chair.

"Thats it for today. Tomorrow, I'll be trying something different, okay? Goodnight."

stream over.

Nanami cleaned himself up and shut off his computer for the night.

The next morning rolled along and it was his first day of an actual job–outside of fucking himself in front of a camera–and he was nervous.

After a stressful ten minute drive, Nanami walked in the building and headed to the correct room. He fixed the tie on his suit before walking in.

-

The door clinked open and you glanced up from your desk and noticed an unfamiliar face walk in, and god, he was gorgeous. You peered at the man longer than you intended to, until your eyes met.

You flinch and avert your gaze away from him.

"Yo, Nanami Kento, right?" The boss's voice interrupted the silence filling the room, the so called man–Nanami, nodded and glanced at you one more time before turning his body to the boss.

He was led to a place to an office desk and of course, he was two seats away from you. You sigh and sit back on your chair before getting back to your work.

-

Nanami felt like his cock was going to burst, he didn't expect to see someone so...good looking on his first day of work. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, imagining your outfit again.

The way your breasts fit perfectly in your tight shirt, showing a good amount of cleavage, and how your beautiful eyes stared right at him...Oh, Nanami needed you as soon as possible.

He opened his eyes and looked around the room before getting up and making his way to the bathroom. He walked past your desk and took another glance at you before stumbling into the bathroom.

"Fuck.. I feel like 'm gonna explode" Nanami muttered to himself. He brought his trembling fingers to his belt and quickly unbuckled it, soon pulling his pants down, revealing his throbbing, hard cock.

"Damn y-you!" He whispered as his fingers curled around his creamy mushroom head, he deliberately continued to loudly stroke himself while thinking about you and he felt like he was going to cum in seconds.

“Shit, shit shiiiittt” Nanami sighed and removed his fingers from his dripping heat, he stared at the huge mess coated on his fingers and let out a quiet groan before grabbing some tissues and cleaning himself up.

After an excruciating five minutes of trying to get himself—and the stall—cleaned up he finally finished and walked out the bathroom, praying nobody heard him.

Nanami headed back to his office desk, walking the same direction from before and took another quick glance at you… how was he going to talk you into getting in bed with him?

When the work day ended Nanami packed up his things and was so close to talking to you…but you seemed to have already start leaving so instead Nanami just headed home.

He had another stream planned tonight and decided he was going to use sex toys for it, the problem was, he had none. So after he put his stuff away at home Nanami was planning to buy some at a store nearby.

Some time passed and Nanami was leaving the house, half dressed, to go pick up some sex toys.

He walked to the store and was met with a variety of different types of toys. Nanami scanned around the room before picking a couple of his interest and left.

When he got home he placed his things on his desk and put his mask on before logging into the site and started the stream momentarily.

stream started

Nanami sat back on his seat and watched as people started to roll in the stream. The chat was already blaring with a bunch of messages, asking him what he’s gonna do and such.

“Calm down, today I bought some toys..and im not sure which one to use so I need your help okay?”

guest127: ohh yes, show us!!

Nanami nodded and flipped the bag over the table, letting all the toys he bought scatter on the small space.

“Highest donor will choose which one I use, how is that?”

The chat agreed and he nodded, unbuttoning his shirt as he watched the donors start donating.

“Ten seconds…”

The money started getting larger and larger and finally at the last second a random person donated a good three thousand dollars.

Nanami let out a whistle and lowered the camera showing the toys on display.

“Choose any.”

guest127: pocket pussy?

“Mmh… I’ll try.”

Nanami shoved the other toys off his desk and stood up from his chair and slowly pulled his pants down, aligning himself with the toy.

He slowly shoved his dripping tip in the silicone pussy and let out a groggy moan. He continued thrusting himself deep inside it and immediately his mind wandered to you again.

Dazed at the pleasure he was feeling he also imagined this stupid toy was you. Nanami tried imagining how your tits would bounce at his immense thrusts he’s giving you.

Or how his cock would fit perfectly in your tight cunt,

Well fuck. He needed you, bad.

guest2: fuck this is hot

Nanami was close to release and he tried to hold it in, he really did, but after one final thrust a wave of shock jolted through him.

Out of instinct, a moan of your name slipped out of his lips and silently scolded himself before pulling himself out of the toy, watching all his cum spill out of it.

Nanami plopped on the chair, absolutely drained from the embarrassingly good sex he had with his toy and stared at the screen which was filling up with donations and such.

He told the stream he'd see them tomorrow and ended it off for the night.

The next morning at work, he swore he was going to talk to you and someway drag you into his bed, or stream, whatever it was he was going to do it.

The thought of your cunt wrapping around his throbbing cock as he pounded into you, turned Nanami on before he even walked into the workplace.

when he stepped in he noticed you were sitting at your desk, and glanced at the other two cubicles next to yours and noticed nobody was sitting next to you, yet.

So he hesitantly walked up to the front of your desk and stared at you for a few moments before you lifted your head away from your phone and looked up at him, with the exact same eyes from yesterday.

Nanami twitched at the sight and cleared his throat before greeting you.

And so the conversation went exactly how nanami expected it to.

It went perfectly.

-

"Alright, I'll see you tonight then?" you ask one more time. Nanami nodded and said his goodbyes before heading back to his cubicle.

You ponder in your seat for a moment, he was awfully good at flirting and the way his smooth voice talked you into meeting up with him tonight was something you couldn't resist.

Though you both barely know each other it was difficult to deny a pretty face like that, and yet again just one night wouldn't be bad. I mean like he said, it was only going to be a one time thing.

You let out a nervous sigh and stare at the paper where his address was written, dreading for the time to come.

Hours passed and work was already over. you were sitting down in your kitchen, already ready with the outfit you were planning to wear to Nanami's house.

After a ten minute walk you finally get to Nanami's place, which was surprisingly a decent looking place. You knock on the door and a few seconds pass and the door flung open revealing Nanami who had no shirt, but a mask on.

"Hi Kento"

"Hey, come in." Nanami dragged you inside his place and led you to his room. The second you walked in you were met with a huge desk with a couple monitors lying on it. the screens showed a reflection of the two of you in the room.

"you're okay with this, right?" he asked, pointing his fingers towards the set up of his live streaming stuff.

you nod and he smiled in response. Nanami then grabbed onto you and pressed you against the desk. His large figure loomed behind you as he rocks his hips back and forth against your ass.

"wai–mmph we're already starting?"

"sorry, I've been waiting for this moment since I laid eyes on you...fuck. c'mere." In a quick second Nanami flipped you over and grinded himself on you again.

moans and whines filled the room as he increased the pace. eventually his fingers ended up under the waistband of your pants and he slipped them down, revealing your bare legs in your laced panties.

Nanami almost came at the sight, he was trying to hold himself back from taking things too quick but you were making it ten times more difficult.

Nanami glanced at the screen behind you and chuckled, "look at that, the donations are going crazy."

You then felt your panties being removed and Nanami brought his fingers to your soaking cunt, which was already dripping from the situation happening right now.

"Shit." Nanami muttered, slipping his fingers out of you and removed his pants, aligning his cock with your soaking entrance, slowly thrusting himself inside you.

The chat was going crazy, and Nanami wasn't even focused on anything except you. He grabs onto you and pulls you closer as he quickens the pace inside you.

Nanami leaned over you and he pushed his full length inside you, leaving you to arch your back in pleasure. A scoff escaped his lips and he was already going insane.

This was way better than the fake one.

"'m gonna c-cum!" you moan as you grab onto his arms, he nodded and his mask started slipping off slowly but he didn't care. Instead, he took his mask off and placed it on your face.

guest127: ohh shit hes hot

"You look so good with my–mask–mghh...on.. 'm gonna cum! fuckk.."

A wave of shock sparked through you when white beads spurted out of Nanami and he pulled out, watching as his and your mixture coat his cock perfectly.

He sighed and plopped on top of you, breathing heavily. He lifted up the mask on your face and leaned in closer giving you a small kiss before pulling away and glancing up at the stream.

"thank you for the donations... see you guys next stream, yeah?"

stream over

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

[confessioncassette]

𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Part 1

“you and me alone in the dark, forever i stay, with you”

summary : after having a drug fueled revelation on his life, Thanos decided to create a private account. For weeks, this account was his sanctuary where he could “unplug” from the normalities of his life of partying. With no one to watch him, no one to make fun of what his interests were, he posted snippets of his daily life and created an algorithm that suited his secret interests. And one day, he had stumbled upon you.

tw : taking drugs, pinning, not proof read, reader knows little Korean

words : 5.7k

notes : this is a longer version of my drabble. In this specific AU (without the games), I wrote Thanos as someone who longs for a bond and needs someone to understand him on a deeper level. This maybe out of character juuuust a tad from him in the games, but this is what I feel like he would be as Choi Subong rather than Thanos.

“I tried this shit a while back and it’s wild, bro.”

Nam-Gyu sits cross legged on the floor before his friend, an outstretched hand pedestals two little colorful tablets in his palm. Thanos eyes widen, lips curling downward as he shifts over his tailbone.

“Don’t give me that shit,” the black haired man pushed the other playfully, “trust me, I wouldn’t give you this if I didn’t already know what it felt like. It was eye-opening, bro.”

Thanos shakes his head, “I don't know bro, I’ve never taken something like that before.”

Nam-Gyu clicks his tongue, “just trust me. I’m taking it with you.” His eyes shift to look at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. “It's similar to shrooms,” he muses, “Plus, I’m a good trip guide. I won’t let you do any crazy shit.”

Thanos stares at the colorful tablets laid before him, contemplating if this was a good idea. It’s not like he hasn’t tried this stuff before, or worse, but this was newer on the market and Nam-Gyu’s past of harder drugs doesn’t set his mind at ease.

“For real, you won’t end up in the street naked or anything. When I tried this a few months back, it literally saved me, bro. It was like, like uh, like I saw all the beauty in the world…” He paused sheepishly before adding, “or some shit.”

Nam-Gyu smiles, “look, I don’t do hard shit anymore, you know this.”

Which was true, Thanos thought. They’ve tried almost everything under the sun when it came to experimenting when they first met, with the exception of needles when it came to Thanos. When it came to trying newer drugs, Su-bong was extra cautious about them being laced. But, his friend is trying it with him, and he’s done it before… what could go wrong?

”This was the same batch you tried before?”

”Yeah, I saved these last two for just us.”

”I take just one?”

”Just one.”

The purple haired man takes a tablet with confidence and pops it in his mouth.

“Now let it dissolve over your tongue,” Nam-Gyu follows his friend by taking the tablet, which eases the other.

“How long will it take?” Thanos lets out a breath, sinking his back to the floor. His friend follows suit, flopping his body to the floor beside him to stare at the ceiling in Thanos’s high rise apartment.

“Won’t be long, bro. Just enjoy the ride.”

The lights in the apartment were already dim. The faint glow of purple LED lights and the twinkle of the night sky of Seoul made a soft atmosphere. The high was gradual but overwhelmingly apparent. Thanos’s body flooded with an initial rush of adrenaline, causing his body to buzz. Time felt all-being, fast as light but slow as molasses, and his body was just an anomaly between it all.

The emotions inside his mind bursted at the seams, exploding with undescribable love and admiration for life. The fleeting thought deep within his mind made him realize that he’s never truly felt appreciative of life before, but he chose to ignore it. How could he ignore the overwhelming excitement for living? This is beautiful. His friend was beautiful, his apartment was beautiful, these lights were mesmerizing.

He stared at Seoul’s skyline for what felt like hours, completely entranced in the way they sparkled. Neon lights flashing on billboards, the barely-there stars peeking through the city’s light pollution. Maybe one day he’ll see the night sky for real and count every star up there. How come he had never realized how beautiful the city was? The people in the street enjoying food, groups sticking together on a night out, a couple hugging each other in an intimate moment and forgetting the world around them.

He wanted to find love like this. Could this feeling be love? Is this what it felt like to appreciate everything he had been through? He had never felt this love with another human being before, but he can remember the last time he had felt love.

When he was a child, he loved to create. This mostly came through rapping and making music, but he also adored creating through drawing and painting. He loved to dance, he loved to express himself in any way possible through a form of art.

Maybe he had lacked this as he got older. With tough times and life experiences, he began to revert inside himself. In school, he got in with the wrong crowd, tried drugs and got hooked at a young age. He became rebellious, ultimately becoming the leader of the pack. He still created music, though, but it was the only mask he had. Rapping got him exclusive invitations to more popular crowds. He had spiraled and partied regularly before it became a lifestyle.

A new girl every night and waking up with regret, on a vicious cycle of drugs and alcohol, partying way past sunrise and waking up just when the sun began to set.

Was he proud of it? He’s lived this life for too long to remember, so he couldn’t tell.

Did he even have his own conscious? Did his lifestyle dull his senses to what really matters? He can’t tell.

All he could feel was right now, this moment in the lick of time. And time was fleeting.

-

Choi Su-bong woke up the next night alone on his couch. He blinked, once, twice before reaching for his phone on the floor beside him. Cringing at the bright screen and scrolling through notifications, Nam-Gyu had left a text a few hours ago.

남규 🙈 (4:14 pm) : I left earlier to make an appointment. I checked on u before i left to make sure ur alive lol i also locked the door. Txt me when you wake

Sighing and rolling on his back, Su-bong sent a response to notify that he was okay before switching apps.

Instagram was his first choice, per usual, and he was immediately flooded with his fellow idols and influencer ‘friends’' posts. Flashy cars, luxurious dinners, lavish outfits that cost hundreds of dollars… it was always the same. He swallowed, noticing his mouth withered before discarding his phone once again over the fur carpet.

It was Friday night, the start to a weekend, where he would usually get up to shower and head out to the high scale clubs to meet with friends. But tonight he only hopped in the shower to cleanse himself and threw on a hoodie and sweats, because he cringed at the thought of doing anything else.

Sitting alone on his plush couch, tv faintly glowing in the back, he racked his brain on his experience from yesterday. It’s actually surprising that he didn’t feel the effects still. It must have been a short term high.

Though short term, it had lasting effects on his system. His thought process tonight was completely different from normal. No doom scrolling, waking up craving immediate numbness or even hungover. Maybe it was time for a wake up call, and this was what he needed. And to think that he was hesitant at first to take them.

He was tired of the surface level relationships and everything that came with that. His entire adult life had been a blur, a ticking time bomb with fleeting memories. Sure, times were fun, but waking up each day feeling like his body got pummeled by a train wasn’t…fun.

He missed art. He missed making music that came from his heart. He missed creating. Not this senselessness that made him fit in.

Pulling out his phone, Su-bong’s slender fingers tapped along the screen.

Create a new account

The blue letters stared back at him, and he was eager to press. Pursing his lips, he contemplates a new name. And why was thinking of anything original so hard right now? It felt like a ghostly pressure, but this was his first choice he’s consciously made in years. Was it really that hard?

He lets out an airy laugh, “shibal.”

Pattering his colorful fingernails along the screen, he came up with Mystic_Legend.

Was it original to his persona? No. But he liked it that way. It was a little ode to himself, but honoring his attachment.

He kept the profile blank for now, not opting to add a profile picture.

This was a clean slate. The explore page filled with vacation pictures of palm trees next to private pools, someone cooking a healthy meal for their family, a few memes - but what caught his attention was a beautiful art piece hung along a blank wall.

What he could perceive as a skinless torso without the flesh, unmasked and slimy twisting up like a tornado. Brilliant hues of blue and dusty grey explode through the top like a cloud exploding and expanding. Thanos was mesmerized by the painting. He’d never seen anything like this before.

His whole body stalled as his eyes scan every detail of the picture for a while. His mind races with thoughts of what could this be? What was the artist interpreting?

But maybe it wasn’t up for interpretation, maybe it was to feel.

What he felt was a tainted soul blossoming into something new.

This was a deep connection, a coincidence to a new path of life.

A beginning.

-

Su-bong spent less time on social media in the following weeks. From what used to be entertaining fans through comments, responding to DM’s, collaborating with other big artists and liking videos of his appearances and shows to spending most of his time on his burner account.

He had grown an algorithm catered to interests long forgotten and had followed things that genuinely interested him. From thousands of followers to zero, from following a few hundred to 13. It was refreshing, to Su-bong. Something he had needed.

No followers didn’t stop him from posting his daily routine. It was rather fun, actually. Posting things that he was doing without having thousands of people watching his every move. It felt more invigorating to post things that were out of his online persona.

An americano from the cafe down the street, his weights at the gym, his record collection, his at-home studio setup, a new pair of shoes he just bought, a colorful sunset from his apartment, a video of him filming the Han River as he went on a run.

He found a new love in posting things that caught his eye, a new love for things he didn’t really see before.

Nam-Gyu was always around, too. Like usual, he’d stop by the apartment to share a drink or smoke a blunt. The two would watch movies and order take out every few days, leaving Nam-Gyu to pass out on the couch for the night. The bond they shared was always special in regards to the fakeness of the crowd Thanos hung around, so it was natural and comfortable keeping him close.

Though, he’d never share the burner account. That was solely his.

Thanos would still keep a presence online through his main account, but not as much. Fans would ask if things were okay on his posts, but he never responded to those. He did his tasks led by management and kept his social life relatively strong to cause any other suspicion.

However, he did loosen the reins on making appearances. In a span of 2 weeks, he didn’t show up to any night clubs or perform at any shows, much to his managers' dislike. However, he continued to make music, music like he’s never created before.

His new routine would be spending hours in his guest bedroom/home studio making music from his soul. Raps about love and heartbreak, about a life he feels like he’d never lived. Raps about living vicariously through movies, how he longs for companionship but can’t seem to allow himself. Raw emotions would flow, allowing himself to set in a new territory of his mind and heart.

It was like therapy. Years of burden lifted off his shoulder poured into his music. Sometimes angry and intense, spitting painful memories and emotions through the mic - and others loving and soft, thoughtful for genuine affection.

Choi Su-bong felt at ease for the first time since he was a child.

Nestled in his king bed, damp hair draping over his brow, he scrolled through his explore page.

A beautiful face he had scrolled past.

Scrolling back up, he tapped on your picture with lightning speed.

A simple photo, but unremarkable. You posed in a simple dress that accentuated your body modestly, holding the phone up to take a selfie in a park.

Officially 1 month in Seoul!

Seoul? You’re here?

Swiping to your profile, he noticed that you didn’t have much. With only following barely over a hundred people and less than 40 followers, you were an anomaly.

You didn’t even have a caption, just a simple text heart emoji under your name.

Your profile had only 12 photos and 2 of which were you. The rest had been photos of your adventures. A photo of a record store, good food you had tried here in Korea, and pictures of landscapes.

Thanos eagerly tapped on the second photo of you.

You were in bed, phone angled high to capture your beauty with flash, holding a plush animal.

I rewarded myself with a friend today

Su-bong swelled, grinning to himself. The plushie you had looked soft, tuffs of its fur touching your cheek as you smiled sweetly back at him. Scrolling down, he found your first post of an airplane illuminated under airport lights.

Today, I start fresh. I’m nervous. #movingtokorea

Checking the date, you had posted this 2 months ago. You must have moved here recently and are living in the same city as him.

Running slender fingers through his hair, Su-Bong considered interacting with you or not. He had scrolled up to see your face at least a dozen times, practically stalking your entire page. Unable to control his emotions, Thanos buzzed with adrenaline.

He’s made the first move countless of times, but not in a… specific way like this. He never had a problem getting the girl he desired for the night, and he never had to try hard at that. This was a completely different situation.

He didn’t want that type of relationship with you. He felt it reverberating deep within his bones. He wanted more than that. Looking through the screen into your eyes marked him in a way he could never describe in words. It was a pulling, a chain that linked and locked with a click deep in his soul.

One message couldn’t hurt? Right? You didn’t even know who he was, or what society had written about him. You didn’t know his past, his current or even his name.

Would it be weird sending you a message? He doesn’t think he could even cope with being left on read by you.

This was fate, this was more than limerence - it was affinity.

-

You sigh, plopping yourself over your couch and covering yourself with a blanket.

Your apartment was small and barren. It was nothing to look at, but it was home. Little trinkets line your bookshelf in the corner of your living room glow under the tv’s light. Scrolling through your apps, you select a comfort show from your childhood and unwind.

Starting a new life in Seoul wasn’t on your bingo card a year ago, but you had made the rash decision for a job with decent pay. You had never left home, so why not take an adventure to see if you could do it? The best part of all of this was that you always had the decision to move back, or move somewhere else completely.

It was beginning to feel like home, though. It was the perfect amount of space you needed and the environment was a perfect mix of introverted activities and extroverted. You had the freedom to become a hermit, but also had the option to go out if you so please. You lived in a part of the city where you could walk to work, dine and drink down the street. You also lived in an area close to bars if you ever felt the need to socialize.

It was beginning to feel like home after 2 months. Your job was easy to follow, despite you not being an expert in Korean. The people were nice, though they were curious and stared. You stuck out like a sore thumb with your demeanor, but you were becoming accustomed quickly, better than you thought you would.

You should be going out tonight, but you don’t feel ready yet. You should be getting dolled up to enjoy a night of fun, but… this was fun for now. Cuddled up in your cozy apartment after a long week at work.

The tv muffled in the background as you stared out your window, appreciating the skyline.

Your phone buzzes against your tight, drawing you from your thoughts.

Mystic_Legend wants to send you a message

Your brow furrows at the notification, but you’re anxious to see the message. You had little to no lies from your home country, and no one knew you here in Korea. Must be a bot.

Mystic_Legend (9:56 pm) : 나는 당신의 사진을 좋아합니다

You blink, staring at the message in curiosity. Pulling up google on your phone you translate the sentence.

I like your photo

“Weird,” you mumble.

Another instagram notification pops up on your screen and you tap it.

Mystic_Legend (9:57 pm) : 최근에 한국에 도착 했나요? 당신은 그것을 좋아합니까?

Have you arrived in Korea recently? Do you like it?

Uneasiness bubbles within your gut. Wasn’t your profile private? You tap around your screen to double check - and it wasn’t. Curiosity got the best of you and you tap the users profile.

20 posts, 13 following and… zero followers.

An anomaly.

Scrolling through the users posts, you find random things. A pair of new shoes, a video of a hooded figure with his back turned to the camera playing on a soundboard, a picture of the person’s outfit, hat covered with a beanie and phone conveniently covering his face in the mirror. Filtering through more posts, you find the Seoul skyline at night, a deck of cards littering a coffee table, gym equipment and landscape photos.

“What the,” you sigh under your breath before another notification pops over the top of your screen.

Mystic_Legend (10:01 pm) : I’m sorry. I should have written in English.

Mystic_Legend (10:01 pm) : I like your photos. Did you recently move to Korea?

Your fingers hesitate before swiping across the screen to accept the messages.

You (10:02 pm) : Do I know you?

A typing bubble appears before disappearing for a few moments.

Mystic_Legend (10:03 pm) : No, I found you on explore page

Ahh, it clicked. But you won’t tell a stranger sensitive information, the whole situation is weird in the first place. You were hesitant to even respond, leaving the message on read while you stared at the screen.

Mystic_Legend (10:04 pm) : I’m Su-bong. Not a creep, I promise.

You (10:04 pm) : Nice to meet you. Thank you for liking my pictures.

Keeping it short and sweet, you lock your phone, hoping to leave the conversation at that, but your phone vibrates not once, but twice.

Mystic_Legend has followed you

Mystic_Legend (10:06 pm) : I could help you speak Korean, if you don’t know

You contemplate the message, looking at it on your Home Screen. You could use the help with your job and navigating the city. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You could have a native speaker help and just keep it at that. Just for the knowledge, of course. Keep it surface level.

You (10:07 pm) : That helps me, actually.

Mystic_Legend (10:07 pm) : Cool. 😎

Mystic_Legend (10:07 pm) : Maybe we could call?

You (10:08 pm) : Not tonight, it’s pretty late.

Mystic_Legend (10:09 pm) : That is okay, get your rest. We can speak tomorrow?

You (10:10 pm) : Sure.

Seen 10:10pm

You left it at that, and the stranger does too. You get ready for bed shortly after that, confused as to how anyone would even find you on the explore page. You weren’t a big account at all and hardly interacted with content on the app, so what had led to the discovery of your profile?

You did have similar interests, but that couldn’t be the only reason for him to message you.

Before closing your eyes, you tap the instagram application and go to the strangers profile and press follow.

-

It caused Su-bong physical pain to let you go to bed. He wanted to message you more, all night if he could. But you had agreed to a call tomorrow, and he was reeling with adrenaline.

Scanning over your photos in his darkened room overlooking the city lights, he couldn’t keep his gaze off the picture of you in the park. Turning over to lay on his side, a strangeness swells within his chest. It must have been stupid, only a virgin could react so strongly just by pictures and dry messages.

But something had told him this was everything he had been missing. Not ever had he looked at a girl with such a sweetness. He’d hooked up with models, influencers and everything in between, although not remembering most of the nights. He’d share hot kisses with wet tongues in night clubs, inviting high class women to his place to experiment something new, had intense sex fueled by molly, and even bent women over in grimy bathrooms.

This was not new to him, picking up women and getting what he wanted.

But the purity was.

Something swam in your eyes, mesmerizing him in a daze. Something fueled him to keep pushing, to dig deeper as to where this stems from.

You are beautiful, elegant and ethereal actually.

He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t try.

The buzz of a notification almost sends his heart leaping out of his chest to find that you had followed him back.

-

You didn’t hear from the stranger, or Su-bong overnight. To your conflicting disappointment, he wasn’t in the pile of notifications when you woke.

Something pulled you in. Men now-a-days have a large following, or a large number of who they follow. You didn’t mull this over to its extent last night, but when you checked his following, it was all art, photography and music accounts… all 13 of them. He didn’t have a profile picture, but the same silhouette showed continuously through his posts.

He didn’t have any followers, and this led you to think this was a secret account. Maybe he had a girlfriend to hide… but honestly that wouldn’t make sense, because if he were to hide an account, wouldn’t he be following girls? At least one? But the only one was you.

And you were now his only follower.

It seemed like a simple account, purely made for enjoyment. Social media is used for that sort of thing anyways, right? You shake your head, reminding yourself that not every man is out to get you. Not every stranger is here to hurt you.

It’s not that big of a deal, and you shouldn’t even be bothering yourself with it.

So you opt to forget about it and carry on with your day.

Saturday - a day to catch up after the work week and do whatever you want to do. So, you do. You work out, shower and make your way to the little cafe down the street to catch a light breakfast and coffee.

Sitting down at an empty table near the window to people watch, your phone buzzes over the table.

Mystic_Legend (10:01 am) : Good morning

Bzzzzt

Mystic_Legend sent a photo

You practically leap from your seat to snatch your phone, a rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. You pray to god that this doesn’t go south, please for the love of god do not be an unsolicited dick pic.

Preparing yourself with a breath, you go to his message embarrassingly fast and tap on the photo.

You squint before opening, as if to allow yourself to be a victim of a terrible sight, but to your delight, the picture opened to a pair of pristine white sneakers next to some weights.

Mystic_Legend (10:03 am) : I am hitting the gym this morning. I hope you slept well.

You (10:04 am) : I beat you to it, I already worked out today. I am getting breakfast.

Sending a picture back can’t do any harm, right? Angling your phone over your food and coffee, you snap a picture and send it.

Mystic_Legend (10:06 am) : Looks good

Mystic_Legend (10:06 am) : What are your plans today?

Mystic_Legend (10:07 am) : I am excited to call, let me know when you are ready.

You purse your lips, blushing at the thought of having a phone call with a stranger. This was unhinged right? No one in their right mind would be doing this… right? Why did your heart flutter with every message he sent?

It’s literally a blank profile.

You tap on his account and scroll down to the photo of him in a mirror. The purple beanie covers his hair and the phone covers most of his face. The hoodie he wears is black with neon coloring and you can’t see past his waist. The one eye you do see, gives a glimpse, a sliver, that who you are talking to is a real person.

You (10:10 am) : I have to run errands today, but I will text you when I am home

The chat bubble lifts above the keyboard, then disappears. You await his response in silence.

Mystic_Legend (10:11 am) : I will wait for you.

An… odd message, you blink. Maybe even sweet… but you don’t know the customs and courtesies of Korean culture enough to have a real judgement. All you need to worry about is finishing your errands and chores before a phone call with a stranger.

-

Flicking the light to your apartment on and dumping your grocery bags on the counter, you stretch.

A day out was just what you needed, and the weather was perfect to walk around in, but damn do your feet ache. Slipping off your shoes by the door, you begin doing your final task of the day.

You barely put the egg carton in your fridge before you hear your phone buzz from the counter. Padding your feet over to your phone, sits another photo message from mystic_legend.

Tilting your head, you open the photo.

An outstretched hand gingerly caresses a wine glass halfway filled with a deep red in front of a kitchen counter.

Mystic_Legend (8:00 pm) : I hope you had a good day.

You (8:00 pm) : Sorry it is so late, I met up with a coworker for dinner.

You cringe at your apology, it’s not like he deserved one. But it was true. Your coworker saw you shopping at a local store and asked if you’d be down to have drinks and food. You couldn’t say no, especially since you have no friends. And this coworker is also a foreigner, so it works out in terms of no language barriers. But you did have plans to call with him, so maybe you felt the need to mention that?

You (8:01 pm) : Is that red wine?

Mystic_Legend (8:01 pm) : Yes. I like this one.

Mystic_Legend sent a photo

You open the photo to see an exquisite bottle of red with the label in French.

You (8:03 pm) : Looks expensive, are you rich?

Mystic_Legend (8:04 pm) : It was a gift.

You (8:05 pm) : I will call soon, I need to finish cleaning up and shower

Mystic_Legend hearted your message but said nothing else.

You freshen up after a long day, letting the hot water cascade down your back. Rubbing your shoulders to ease the tension, your mind wanders.

Was this a trick? Was he a creep? How could you be so naive in trusting a complete stranger? It was weird, what you were doing.

But in reality, you are lonely. Making this move was huge for you and your confidence. You’ve never ventured out like this before. You are a big girl, you don’t need to explain your reasons for making friends. You are completely on your own, working in a completely new country, and doing good at it.

You’re not tied down by anything but yourself, so why was it hard to accept the fact that this was a little unconventional?

You’ve tried dating apps in the past- you physically cringe forcing yourself to stop your thought process. Shrugging your shoulders against the water in a visceral reaction, you shake off the thought. This guy is not an interest, why were you thinking it was? Instagram is not an app to date.

Even so, he had never asked anything other than to talk to you. You’ve had guys in the past ask for nudes almost immediately. You’ve had guys thirsting over you in such an icky way that it completely turned you off.

But…

You lean your head back into the waterfall and puff your cheeks.

He hasn’t done that.

You couldn’t help by think of all the reason why. Why he had messaged. Was it a cover? He could be a complete fuck-boy underneath it all and he’s just grabbing your attention.

What if he isn’t even real. What if he’s some mama’s boy living in a dingy basement?

You groan, anticipation swelling deep in your belly. You feel like you might be sick at the thought of a measly voice call.

You can’t help that it excites you.

-

Silk pajamas caress your skin and the plush comforter of your bed warms your senses as you whip out your phone and settle yourself in a comfortable position.

Your finger lingers over the phone symbol next to the strangers name… and you can’t do it.

You (11:01 pm) : I’m ready

WIthin seconds, like he really was awaiting your message, your phone screen illuminates with a voice call.

Your body tenses at the mere sight and you suck in a breath, hitting accept.

“Hello?”

“Annyeonghaseyo,” he calls, his voice low and smooth like honey. You melt at the slow infliction of his tone.

“Oh- annyeong-“ You stutter, but he doesn’t react. “How are you?” You try to hold it together to keep your voice from shaking, praying that he doesn’t notice. Your poor Korean could be embarrassing to him.

“That was good,” he comments before proceeding, “I am good now. I told you I would wait for you.”

The more he spoke, the more you caught on to his thick accent. It wasn’t perfect. But you didn’t care, you understood him just fine.

You give an airy laugh, “you did.”

”What did you do today?”

You hum. “I worked out, went to lunch… I went shopping and met up with a coworker of mine for dinner. It was nice. What did you do today?”

He hums in response.

“One second-“ he says, followed by quick tapping on his screen. After a moment, he begins to speak again.

“I worked out too. I had chest day. Then I made music.”

“Music?”

“Yes,” he pauses, “I like to make music.”

”Is that why you post pictures of you in a studio?”

“Yes,” the tapping on his phone is rapid now, “I have my own studio in my house.”

”That’s so cool! I’d like to hear your music…”

The stranger was silent on the other line.

”Maybe.”

“Okay, well no pressure. I don’t like to show anyone my personal stuff either.” You opt to keep the conversation light.

He hums in agreement.

“Why did you come to Korea?”

You shift under your covers, thinking of a response.

“I… just needed a new start. I wanted to see what I could accomplish.” Is what you ended up with.

He hums again, slow and low, taking a moment to respond.

“I understand. I have lived here my entire life. I always wanted to travel, that is good that you did.”

You laugh, “it was scary at first, moving to a new country and all…”

”I could tell you all the best spots around here.”

”I’d like that, I’m still getting used to it.” You turn your head to look at the moon outside your window.

”Do you remember my name?” He questions.

”Su-Bong.” You respond quietly.

”Yes, I’d like to know yours.”

You swallow, internally battling yourself with how to respond. You don’t want to give him your real name in the means of safety. But he did give you his.

“Is that actually your name?”

“Of course, why would I lie?” His accent was thick and questioning, low in bass. It rang so nicely through your ears. His infliction doesn’t waver, and it draws you in.

You slowly said your own name, giving him the benefit of the doubt. It was just a name after all, and he had already known what you looked like.

He repeated your name quietly, like he savored it on his tongue. His deep voice electrified your nerves in a way you’ve never experienced, triggering your body to grow hot in embarrassment.

“Beautiful name,” was all he said.

You sheepishly give thanks before yawning.

“Are you tired?”

Your eyelids grow heavy to the sound of his voice. “I am.”

”I will let you go to sleep, can we talk tomorrow?”

You wait a moment to respond as your heart flutters in response to him.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

”Okay,” he whispers, “an nyeong hi ju mu se yo.”

”Goodnight, Su-Bong.”

-

Thanos hung up the phone almost too quickly, but not because he wanted to leave the conversation, but because he needed to let out a breath he had been holding.

Your voice was sweet and calming. It had lulled his system like waves of the ocean.

Running his fingers through his hair his eyes dart around the room and curses under his breath.

You’d definitely be the death of him.

[tashacee]

you told me to send an ask on tumblr about bean and the hero's aspect so here i am i'd love to see what you do with that

the poor bean is NOT gonna be happy

Aspects of a Bean

(Written for the @lu-community-write-a-thon)

Link put on the Hero’s Aspect once.

Just once.

He was too nervous when he first got it. He was on his journey and busy and he wasn’t sure what it did and it all seemed like too much. Even after his journey he let it sit in his slate. The note said that it contained the soul of a pat Hero! He couldn’t just throw it on like a casual party outfit!

But…

One day. One day long after it was over, when Hyrule was at peace and he didn’t have to fight every day…

One day. Curiosity got the better of him and he locked the door of his little hut on the plateau and shooed out all but the most resolved of cats (Mr Tubbs), and he pulled out the Aspect’s Belt.

It was beautiful. The carving of the jade, the intricate ceramics, the enamel- it was an incredible artefact and honestly, should probably be preserved for all of Hyrule to see. Zelda would like to see it, he was sure, to examine it. He just… hadn’t told her about it.

He wasn’t sure why. It felt private, somehow, in some way that he couldn’t quite articulate. He carefully clipped the belt around his waist.

The change was immediate. One moment he was himself, small and nervous, in thick, loose clothes and a big, tight, mask, and the next-

Oh no. Oh nonono, this was not good. This was bad. Wild didn’t like this, didn’t like it at all-

He reached for his belt, determined to take it off immediately, but before he could, something opened up underneath him, and the world went dark around him, swallowing him whole.

-

“Monster, five o’clock!”

Warriors jumped at Legend’s shout, looking around as he drew his sword. They had just been out getting some firewood but this was not anywhere familiar to them, and none of them trusted the apparent peace of their surroundings. These woods were too calm, too pleasant. There had to be a monster camp around here somewhere, the Chain simply didn’t get lucky like this.

And sure enough, there it was. Two days of peace in an attempt to lull them into a false sense of security, no doubt, but now Warriors could see it. A huge, hiking beast, kind of like some of the moblins they had, but also totally unfamiliar to him. He could just see it through the trees, its strange, twisted body, its long snout. It had fur in a few, uneven patches, but most of its body seemd covered in thick, mottled scars. Clearly this beast had been in no small number of fights, then.

Warriors switched to his bow and drew it.

The creature jolted, one remaining ear twitching towards the sound of the veteran’s shout as it turned to face them.

Warriors loosed his arrow. It whizzed past the creature, just missing its head as he got a good look at its face.

Hylia above. To say that the thing had been in a few fights was an understatement. If the rest of its body was twisted with scars, its face was destroyed. Half of its snout was gone, long, sharp fangs exposed to the world, its red mane not growing at all around its ruined left ear, its eye permanently narrowed  by the misshaping of its skin.

Warriors had never seen a monster so badly scarred. Monsters weren’t usually keen on healing and care for their wounded - that this one had lived-

The creature shrieked and stumbled backwards, landing hard on its rump and scrambling away from them, eyes wide and wild. 

The four of them advanced, but something about this didn’t feel right. What kind of monster fell over instead of fighting? What kind of monster tried to flee?

Wars slung his bow back over his back and drew his sword once more, moving forwards.

The creature let out a small bark and - and reached up, trying to? To - to cover its face? Its maw? And it scrambled up. It had long legs and a damn tail, so when it tried it could move fast. In an instant it had turned and dashed off, vanishing into the forest.

Warriors held out a hand, stopping his brothers from chasing after it.

“What the hell, Cap?” Legend grumbled.

Wars shook his head. “It-” he broke off, staring at where the creature had vanished. “It’s not a monster. I don’t think. It was scared.”

Four nodded along. “It had blue eyes, not red.” he added. “And it wasn’t armed. It seemed as surprised to see us as we were to see it.”

Warriors hummed, but before he could speak was interrupted by a sound from behind him, where Sky had been standing.

“Uh… guys?” he said softly. He had drawn the master sword and had turned his head down towards its blade. “I- yeah. Warriors is right.” Slowly, he re-sheathed his sword, turning towards them and holding out his right hand. It was already badly scarred with lightning burns, but there was a fresh injury on his palm, lightly pink with the shape of diamonds pressed into it. The shape of the decorations on the Master Sword’s hilt.

“He’s not a monster.” Sky continued. He couldn’t look at them, blind as he was, but he was turned to them with an intensity all the same. “He’s one of us. He’s a Link.”

-

Needless to say, they all felt sick that they had mistaken a new brother for a monster. At first Warriors had tried to run after him, but he was already long gone and likely wouldn;t take kindly to being chased again so soon after they had literally tried to shoot him.

Warriors felt awful about that.

So instead, they headed back to camp with the news that they had found a new brother, and that he looked… less than hylian and that they may have tried to attack him as a monster.

Poor guy.

Warriors couldn’t get his face out of his head. That gaping maw, the twisted eye, the burns the whole way across his body. How could anyone live through something like that? How could someone live with scars that bad - they must have pulled and ached almost constantly. And then how he had tried to cover himself before fleeing.

Warriors felt awful. He hoped that he could get a chance to apologise. The guy clearly had been through a lot.

They ended up using Sky’s dowsing ability to search for him. They may not have had anything belonging to him but he bore the spirit of courage, and it was easy enough to search for that.

Well.

Easy enough to search.

Not easy enough to find though.

Warriors was honestly impressed. The guy had to have been seven feet tall and he had a tail. How he had managed to avoid being found for so long was no mean feat.

But of course, they did find him. In the end. He was a big guy, and once they started to find the broken plants and crushed grass where he had run through, they knew that they were on the right track. And then when they found the fallen tree, hollowed out by age, when they heard the soft, terrified sobs, they knew that they were in the right place.

The Chain stopped and exchanged glances, unsure of what to do. Only the original four had actually seen him, but they didn’t exactly seem like the ideal people to go and talk to him right now. Twi was probably the most outgoing but he relied on sign and they didn’t know if the guy would be facing them or if he even knew Hylian sign to begin with.

Wind was an absolute no-go. He meant well, but he was thirteen, and sometimes said the dumbest shit.

Time sighed and knelt, taking off his sword and setting it aside before crawling closer to the hollow.

“Hello?” he called gently. “So, funny story. My name’s Link. And so are all of my companions. And I think you might be too. Can I come in and talk?”

Warriors was standing only a little behind Time, and could just about see into the darkness of the log. To the huddled, shaking figure, curled up in a ball and facing away from them. It - he - keened, shivering all over, and Time raked a hand through his hair.

“I-” he said. “I know you had a bad experience earlier. My brothers- they made a terrible mistake. And they’re sorry. They’re right here, and-”

Another keen, this one in terror. Warriors felt his stomach lurch, and before he knew what he was doing, he had knelt beside Time, peering in.

“I-” he said. “I was the one who shot at you.” he could feel the guilt pool in his gut as he said it, could see his new brother freeze in place. “I- I dshouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Link. I can never take it back, but- but I want to help.”

He took a shuddering breath, and then in a moment of inspiration, began to unwind his scarf. The man - the boy? - in front of him was hardly clothed, but judging by his reaction, this was not his preferred state. He must have been brought here unawares, and Warriors wouldn’t have that.

“I- I’ve got a scarf. I’m holding it out, right behind you. If you reach back you can grab it, use it to - um. Whatever you want.”

The boy took a deep breath, then another. He was still trembling, but now a single, clawed hand reached around, feeling for the scarf. When he found it he snatched it away, pulling it around to his front.

It took a few minutes for him to wrap it around himself. Warriors was glad of how big his scarf was in this moment, because the poor guy seemed to not know what he wanted to cover the most. His head and face was his first attempt, but then as he made to turn he glanced down and saw his ruined torso and whined again, pulling at the cloth of the scarf to try and make it somehow bigger.

“Oh!” Time gasped. “Oh, right - here! Take my cloak! You can use it to cover yourself too!”

Sky gasped where he stood, understanding what was going on. “You can take my sailcloth too! Maybe that can help?”

Before long they had all donated something. The new Link seemed more than a little surprised to suddenly have so many lengths of fabric and spare garments thrust at him, but he didn’t protest. Within a few minutes he was wrapped up in a bizarre myriad of cloths and fully covered, and only then did he turn to face them. Only his teary eyes and long red hair were visible and he still seemed to shrink in on himself, drawing his arms in close, tucking his tail in around his legs. Warriors felt his heart break.

“Hi, Link.” He said, his voice maybe a little hoarse. “I’m Link, but I go by Warriors. We’re gonna look out for you now. It’s gonna be okay.”

-

Wild, as they named their brother, was a gentle, kind boy. He was nervous around others, and though some of that was due to being the only… whatever he was … in a world of hylians, the Chain could tell that most of it was due to whatever incident in his past had left him so badly scarred. They never mentioned it, of course, and instead welcomed him in with open arms. He was their brother, after all, and they loved him.

He laughed with them. He fought with them. He turned out to be an amazing cook and took over the making of meals each night, which no one complained about. 

He didn’t have to go along in an outfit made of scarves for long. Time had a few spare clothes that only took a little altering to fit him, and he didn’t mind that they made them loose. Hyrule wove together some dried grasses to make a mask that could cover the hole in his cheek and offered him a bag of salves for his scars. And then when they went to Ordon, Uli specifically tailored several outfits for him, much to his embarrassment and very obvious joy. They all knew by then that Wild loved pretty things, after all.

And little by little, he opened up to them. They couldn’t really communicate easily, not with the language barrier between their signs, but they made it work. They got to know him. They came to love him. Not just as their brother in courage, but as himself. As Wild. As Link.

And more than that - Wild surprised himself one day by realising that he loved them too. He trusted them too.

That they were a family, and somehow, wonderfully-

He was alright with that.

[airconditionertm]

Aemond x daemon’s ward reader part 2

Summary: the ward of daemon Targaryen y/n is constantly wrapped up in his schemes but having to get aemond Targaryen to propose to her had to be the hardest

Word count: 2499

Read part 1

Y/n was once again eating breakfast with daemon. “Things have been going well aemond he escorted me back to my chambers yesterday and asked me to call him by his first name” she reported to the daemon. “ good well then everything is going to plan, “ he said placing down his goblet. “Do not forget the purpose of your marriage don’t get caught up in your feelings dear”.

——————————————

Y/n walked in the garden considering how to further wo Aemond when she suddenly overheard voices coming from one of the gazebos. “ you are so dramatic brother”,“ mother he cannot be allowed to continue like this stumbling drunk through the castle harassing lady’s “,” I’m not harassing anyone I don’t even remember what you’re talking about “,” yeah because you where too drunk to remember”, ”just because your a boring repressed fuck doesn’t mean everyone wants to live like you “. It was Aemond and Aegon arguing. “Boys there’s no need to fight so early in the morning” Alicent tried to scold them however Aemond started yelling in high valerian his brother only replied in Broken sentences. Y/n stayed standing on the path too scared to move and be discovered eavesdropping. But she suddenly heard footsteps. She tried to sneak away but Aemond saw her . “ what are you doing here “ he asked. “I was taking a walk in the garden I didn’t mean to hear I’m sorry Aemond, “ she said . “ it’s alright y/n,” he said. “Was the argument caused by what I told you yesterday?” she asked looking at the floor. “Yes but it’s not your fault he’s been behaving like this for a while it was just the straw that broke the camel’s back, “ he said gesturing for her to walk with him. “ I see I’m glad I don’t have siblings like him “ she replied he let out the smallest chuckle. “ certainly, “ he said. A silence fell over the two while they walked.

Y/n looked over the wall of the garden at the beach below stopping Aemond stopped with her. “ is that Vhagar “ she said pointing at the dragon flying over the sea. “Yes it is she’s probably hunting “ he explained. “ she’s waiting for a whale to surface right and then she pulls it out and eats it I remember seeing her do that on Dragonstone it’s impressive yet terrifying.” She asked leaning on the wall to look at Vhagar.��� yes I suppose it is a little terrifying if you're not familiar would her,” he said looking out at the sea with her. “ I suppose so” They both look out at the sea for a while until Aemond speaks up.

“Can I ask you something which may be rude,” he asked. “Of course you can what is it” she replied looking over at him. “Daemon said you're here to find a husband but I have hardly seen you socialize with any men at court,” he asked.

Fuck y/n had not considered having to keep up the ruse that she was looking to marry any man but Aemond. “ if I’m honest I…” 7 hells why couldn’t she think of anything “ I’m not the most social, I find it hard to talk to people especially when the result of that interaction is anything as important as marriage “ she spoke rushed. “You speak to me and I’m considered less approachable than most” he retorted. “ well I already know you in a way Aemond from childhood and royal events even if we haven’t spoken much, it is also that you happen to be everywhere I go “ she replied rubbing her hands nervously. “I know I should socialize more but being hiding in the library and talking to you is far more enjoyable, I know if I don’t find a husband soon I might never find one “She looked at him trying to gauge his reaction. “You will find a husband you just need to talk to men” he replied matter of fact. y/n chuckled “What makes you so sure of that “ she asked him. “ you’re a noble lady with close ties to the royal family, you’re beautiful, you’re polite and kind and surprisingly smart and analytical any man would be lucky to marry you y/n ” he looked straight at her and back at the sea. “You are too kind ” she spoke moving closer to him and placing her hand above his which rested on the top of the wall. “ I am not too kind I am speaking the truth, “ he said.

" so this is where you have gone off.." the two instantly jumped apart at the sound of Alicents voice " To Aemond.. y/n?". " I should go " y/n

blurted out walking away. It was good for Alicent to see them together but it might be too early she wanted to talk with Alicent first before being caught together in a garden holding hands. For some that may not mean a lot but among the nobility, it was practically like being caught naked together on a roof. Oh no, would people gossip would they give her weird glances?

——————————-

Alicent had invited y/n to tea. She had spent a while choosing her dress and readying her hair. Though she likely knew what Alicent wanted to speak with her about, tea with the queen was never to be taken lightly. She waited outside the door to be let in.

” Come in sit with me “ Alicent commanded. Y/n sat down across from her. “ I want to know what I saw in the gardens yesterday “ she got right to the point. “ we met each other when he walked off from his argument with his brother. We walked together for a while until I spotted Vhagar above the sea and we stopped and started talking.” Y/n stated matter of fact. “Well you’re talking seemed quite intimate what did you talk about “ she asked. “ well first we spoke about Vhagar but later he asked me why I didn’t socialize with many men at court when I was trying to find a husband and we spoke about that and I started to get a bit distressed worrying about not finding a husband and he reassured me” Alice wasn’t convinced yet. “ you placed your hand atop his “ she said. “ I did yes“. “What are your intentions with Aemond you're supposed to be finding a husband at court yet you have been focusing on my son instead, “ she asked. “ in truth, I may have developed an infatuation with him at first I was simply curious to see the boy I knew grown up but then I discovered he is quite handsome all grow up I know it’s immature and inappropriate ” she tried to explain. “ so you only like his appearance than “ Alicent accuses her. “No no that’s the difficult part if it was just about his appearance it would be easy to get past if that was the case but he’s dedicated intelligent dutiful and he’s closed off in a way that makes you feel so special when he opens up to you “ y/n tried to seem as genuine as possible which wasn’t to difficult since all she was saying was technically true.

“So you truly care for him not his looks or his title “Alicent asked looking straight at y/n . “ yes I do Your Majesty “ y/n shifted in her seat. “ I do think that it is time for Aemond to find a wife I think it would be good for him but alliances are also important in royal marriage if he loves you and he comes to me I will not deny him but I will not help you “ she explains. “I understand Your Majesty “Y/n couldn’t help but smile a little at the queen's lack of disapproval it wasn’t quite an approval yet but it was close.

———————————-

“Your mother invited me to tea yesterday,” y/n said looking up from what she was reading. Aemond groaned “Yes she spoke with me too, about us holding hands in the garden it was…”. ”indeed it was strange she asked me what my intentions with you are” y/n replied. “ well what are your intentions with me y/n,” Aemond said smirking. “ genuine “ was all she said. “ my mother talked to me about marriage I’ve been trying to avoid that conversation I blame you, “ he said. ”well I’m sorry aemond, she spoke with me about marriage too, I felt like she was interrogating me“ y/n broke eye contact. “what did she say to you, “ Aemond asked. Y/n wasn’t sure if telling him might feel too forward but she knew she couldn’t avoid his questions. “She expressed her lack of disapproval if the two of us would marry…. I think it’s a bit of a dramatic reaction to people holding hands to start talking about marriage “.

“ it isn’t dramatic truly, we aren’t even officially courting technically we should not even be anywhere alone together and generally when a young man and lady interact it has something to do with marriage, also think my mother assumes something else may have happened,” Aemond explained looking more serious than before. “ I suppose we have not been following court procedures I don’t want to cause any scandal for you Aemond but I still enjoy spending time with you, “ y/n said. “ I suppose we could officially court to allow us to continue our time together “ Aemond at this point paid no more attention to his tomb.

“If we were to officially court would it be to simply continue spending time together or would it go towards a possibility of marriage I cannot court multiple men so officially courting you would not do well for my plans of finding any other husband ” y/n explained, of course, she didn’t care about courting other men but it was a good excuse to ask whether he would marry her. “as I’ve already said any man would be lucky to marry you, however, I am a prince so my marriage has to be considered more carefully, but what is more important is do you want to go towards that possibility, “ he asked reaching his hand across the table to meet hers. “ yes, “ she said quietly. “ why is it you wish to marry me is it my title, my house or do you feel you can not refuse me “ he rubbed her hand gently. “ I cannot say that your position has no part in the appeal however to speak truly I first started seeking you out because well .. you are quite handsome…. And then I grew to realize you are quite intelligent and we like similar things and I quite enjoy your company so I think you would be a suitable companion for me and maybe in a way it is also that by marrying you I would finally be officially part of the family I have spent my whole life with and this marriage does provide security for me and with a guardian like daemon security would be a nice change “ she looked at Aemond for reassurance he did not give her any. “I will discuss the topic with my mother I’ll tell you by tomorrow so you must not worry about it too long, “ Aemond said. Y/n already worried was she going too fast had she messed everything up bringing up her meeting with Alicent she hadn’t expected Aemond to start seriously talking about marriage. This was it she thought everything could fall apart all the research the planning and the scheming she never thought it could make her this anxious. She felt like her heart might explode.

————————————

She walked to Daemon's chambers knocking on his door. “ who is here so late “ he opened the door “Oh hello is everything alright “ he asked. “ I don’t know Aemond he started talking about the possibility of officially courting” she spoke breathlessly.” Isn’t that a good thing dear why don’t you come inside” daemon gestured inside the room and closed the doors. “ yes it would be good if he had decided then and there but he said he needs to speak with his mother about it and I don’t think Alicent likes me particularly much I mean at the tea she practically interrogated me, and it wasn’t supposed to happen this fast, god why did I have to bring it up I I I don’t even really get if he wants to marry me he said that any man would be lucky to but that’s a thing people just say right and he w-“daemon cut her of “ dear you need to calm down alright we won’t know until tomorrow even if this plan fails you know I always have a plan b alright “.

————————

Y/n awoke forgetting for just a second what she was so worried about the night before it was a beautiful second before it all came crashing down on her again.

——————

The day was almost over and Aemond hadn’t spoken to her yet she was sure this was it she had failed. She sat on her bed sketching something in her sketchbook. A sudden knock disturbed her “Who is it” she called out. “Aemond” shit she got up trying to fix her hair and smith her dress. ”Come in,” she said. Aemond stepped into the room “ I wasn’t able to find you I spoke with my mother “ he said standing at the door. “What did she say “ y/n asked trying not to sound too desperate for the answer. “She agreed that we might court,” he said. “ gods are why didn’t you just say that I was certain you were going to give me bad news” y/n looked at him. “My apologies y/n I didn’t mean to worry you”. He said. “ it is alright “Y/n replied taking his hands he recoiled a little at first but let her hold his hands. “We must announce that we are courting officially.” He said. “Yes, we must when should we do that “ y/n replied. “Where having dinner together my mother makes us at least once a week we can announce it then if you and daemon would join us ” he was silent for a moment “Does daemon approve “ he asked unsure. ” Yes he does I spoke with him about it,” y/n said. “ that surprises me in truth, he doesn’t seem particularly in favor of me ?“ Aemond questioned. “ I can be quite convincing Aemond “ y/n replied smirking hoping he bought that she convinced him.

[eclipixels]

Candid

Rafayel x Reader

Content: Rafayel takes up photography because of you.

[848 words]

The first time Rafayel picks up a camera, it’s because of you.

You don’t realize it at first. You’re too used to the way he looks at you like you’re a masterpiece he hasn’t quite finished, like every tilt of your head and every flicker of emotion across your face is something worth memorizing. You’ve always known he watches you with an artist’s eye, but painting takes time. Too much time. And Rafayel, for all his patience when it comes to art, has never been particularly patient when it comes to you.

So one day, instead of his usual sketchbook or canvas, he pulls out a camera.

It starts subtly. At first, he only uses it when he’s trying to capture a certain look on your face for reference, snapping quick shots before disappearing into his studio. But then it changes. The way he holds the camera becomes more deliberate. The way he watches you through the lens is different—more than just an artist analyzing his subject.

It’s him, wanting to freeze time.

Wanting to hold onto something fleeting.

Wanting to keep every version of you, forever. Immortalized in a frame.

You catch him one morning, camera in hand, as he watches you from across the room.

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow, brushing your hair out of your face. “Isn’t painting your thing?”

Rafayel hums, leaning against the doorway. He doesn’t answer immediately, just lifts the camera and clicks the shutter before you can react. The quiet sound of the capture makes your heart skip a beat.

“I still paint,” he says finally, lowering the camera slightly. “But you move too much. Change too fast.”

You tilt your head. “And?”

“And I hate missing any of it.”

His voice is soft, but there’s something almost reverent in the way he says it. Like every second with you is precious. Like he’s desperate to keep them all.

Your cheeks heat, and you groan, burying your face in your hands. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re beautiful,” he corrects, completely serious. Another click of the camera. Another moment frozen in time.

You peek at him through your fingers. “Are you going to do anything with all these photos?”

Rafayel doesn’t answer right away. He just watches you for a moment before finally saying, “They’re for me.”

Something about the way he says it makes your heart skip several beats.

Days pass. Then weeks. The camera becomes as much a part of Rafayel’s routine as his sketchbook. He takes pictures of you constantly. When you’re laughing, when you’re lost in thought, when you’re barely awake in the mornings with sleep still clinging to your skin.

He doesn’t just take photos of you when you’re “perfect.” He captures the little moments. The way you furrow your brows when you’re focused, the sleepy pout you get when he wakes you up too early, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.

And every single one of those photos? He keeps them.

You don’t realize how many until you stumble upon the box.

It’s tucked away in his studio, hidden among his unfinished canvases and tubes of paint. You hadn’t meant to find it. But when you pull the lid off the box, you freeze.

Photos. Hundreds of them.

All of you.

You stare, breath catching in your throat as you sift through them. Some are Polaroids, others printed out on glossy paper. Some are candid—blurred motion and laughter—while others are heartbreakingly soft, like he’d caught you in a moment of quiet he never wanted to forget.

You recognize some of them. Moments from the past weeks, others much older you smile as you recall the memories behind them.

The sound of the studio door opening makes you jolt.

You look up, wide-eyed, as Rafayel leans against the doorframe. His expression is unreadable, but his sunset eyes flicker between you and the open box.

There’s a moment of silence. You don’t know what to say, but your hands shake as you hold one of the pictures, a close-up of your profile, soft and warm in the evening light.

Rafayel finally steps closer, kneeling beside you. He takes the photo from your hands, holding it gently between his fingers.

“Paintings take too long,” he murmurs. “I can’t keep up with how beautiful you are. I don’t ever want to forget.”

Your chest tightens. “Rafayel…”

He meets your gaze, unguarded in a way he rarely is.

“Is it too much?” he asks softly.

You shake your head. “No. It’s—” You exhale, feeling something fragile and warm settle in your ribs. “Beautiful.”

A small smile tugs at his lips. Rafayel always had this way of making you feel like you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Not just because he treated you as his muse but also with how much he spoiled you with affection and care.

He lifts the camera again, tilting his head slightly. “Then, let me keep this moment too.”

You roll your eyes but don’t protest.

The shutter clicks.

And just like that, another piece of you becomes his forever.

[veritas-scribblings]

map - @into-the-jeggyverse - words: 822

James feels the bite of winter in the very depths of his soul. It is bitter and unrelenting and has blanketed Hogwarts in a thick, white frost. He sinks into it up to his shins as he treks across the grounds, towards the Forbidden Forest. Through layers upon layers upon layers of snow storms laid down by a world that may very well be raging. Or grieving.

A beautiful, poetic irony, James thinks. If he has his definition of poetic irony correct. He probably doesn’t.

But there isn’t anyone around to correct him, so…

James! Wait!

The world is white through the barrage of snow. He cannot see. But he doesn’t need to. He lived on, learnt on, played on these grounds as a youth. He would know his way around blind in the dark.

And he is blind now. And everything is numb. His fingers. His toes. His nose. His face, his skin, his bodyhisheadhishearthissoul.

James would cast a warming spell, but he doesn’t trust the volatility of his magic. He hasn’t for months.

Some years ago (James can no longer be sure how many) he’d brought Regulus out here into the Forbidden Forest after the first snow, back in his sixth year when James was still in love with winter and Christmas and snow and had wanted to share the joy of it all with Regulus. He’d wanted to build snowmen with Regulus. Go ice-skating with Regulus. Stand under the dusting snow with Regulus. And then drink hot cocoa by the fireplace to defrost with Regulus.

Regulus, of course, had grumbled the whole time, because he’s fussy and prickly like a cat and hates snow.

Hates being wet.

Hates being cold.

Hates Christmas, because he’s just insane like that.

He’d been all wrapped up in a scarf and beanie at the time like some sort of soggy marshmallow. In the snow and the cold, his nose and cheeks had gone all pink, and he’d scowled the whole time, muttered something about James needing to see a mind healer or be institutionalised.

James! Stop!

It’s long past the first snow of winter now. James missed it almost a month ago in his hibernation, buried under the weight of his own grief and rage and insanity. He’s missed Christmas. He’s missed autumn and Halloween. He’s missed so many things. The birth of Lily’s son. Dorcas’s funeral. Marlene’s funeral. Little Neville’s first birthday. And Frank and Alice…

It was upon emerging from it all that James had been horrified to find that time hadn’t waited for him. To finally recall how, in the depth of everything, he’d sometimes wished that the war had never ended. Because until it did, he’d barely had a moment to stop or breathe, let alone to feel. And when he finally did stop and breathe and feel…

When reality had pulled him under…

James has so many regrets.

James is near the Forest Grove, wading—damned near swimming—through the snow when a force bodily takes him down from behind. He goes easily. Maybe because the fight had been gouged out of him months ago. Maybe because he’s numb and weak from stumbling about in a snow storm for Merlin only knows how long.

“James! Stop! This is not what I meant when I told you to get out for a change!” The voice, conflictingly both rough and polished, can only belong to Sirius. “Are you this desperate to die that you’re willing to go from frostbite and hypothermia?”  

But James does not wish to die. Not when he’s finally past it. Past the tears, the gut-wrenching from-the-bottom-of-his-soul screams. He’s past feeling like he’s been torn asunder from the inside. He’s ready to live again. 

It’s only then that Sirius looks down and sees what James has clenched in his shaking fist. Many years ago, when they were young, still revelling in their own mischief and congratulating each other on their genius, they’d had the foresight to cast waterproofing and anti-tearing charms on the map. But even so, the years-old parchment is sodden from the journey and crumpled from desperation. From repeated folding and unfolding and smoothing and turning.

Sirius tears it from James’s grip. “You’re going to trust something we made when we were fifteen?” he screams. “There’s nothing there!”

But there is. James is certain of it. He saw it. There. On the page. As true and real as had been the immutable grief he’d been drowning in only days ago.

He’d seen the name flickering there on the parchment, vibrant and alive. And he would know. He’d spent hours staring at it all those years ago at Hogwarts. Watching the name drift around the Slytherin dormitories. Float through the hallways. Tuck itself into a corner of the library like the studious little nerd it was at heart. 

“James!” Sirius practically shoves the parchment in his face. “James! There’s nothing there!”

[uhhlifeig]

HIIIIII!!! CONGRATULATIONS ON 300 POOOKIEEEEEEEEEEE YOU DESERVE SM MOREEE 🫶🫶🫶🩷🩷🩷 ILYYY

💀 - with Remus (wolfstar)?? 👀

why do you people like remus to be killed so much 😭

(i like killing him tho-)

enjoy!!

~~~~~

There was something growing, twisting, consuming his body, his mind.

And Sirius Black was powerless to stop it.

His hands were shaking, but they weren’t his. Try as he might, he couldn’t break free from the entity that had removed his free will. 

He felt like a spectator in his own body.

There was a soft, velvety voice whispering in his mind: Kill him.

Sirius tried to drop his wand, tried to turn it on himself, tried so hard to do something.

Nothing happened. 

His legs moved of their own accord, walking towards the door of the Astronomy Tower door. He pushed the handle down.

It creaked open, revealing Remus leaning on the balcony, cigarette in hand. He was looking up at the sky, not noticing Sirius creeping up on him.

He looked so beautiful like that, framed against the stars.

Sirius wanted to scream at him, tell him to run and never look back.

But of course, he couldn’t. 

Remus turned around. “Hey, Sirius. What’re you doing up here?”

The curse relinquished control for a moment. Sirius stumbled away from Remus, trying to keep himself from hurting the love of his life.

“Moony,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Remus got up from the balcony. “What’s wrong, seren?” he asked, rushing over to Sirius.

“No, no, get away, please,” Sirius cried, backing away from Remus. “I’ll hurt you, please don’t touch me.”

Remus was now getting increasingly concerned. “Padfoot, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.”

“Please, go.”

“Tell me what’s wrong first.”

“I- I can’t.”

The thing that was in Sirius took over again. He straightened up, walking towards Remus with purpose. Sirius wanted to scream and cry and rip his hair out.

He was surprised when he actually made a sound. 

It seemed as if the spell poisoning his mind had been too weak to take full control. 

“Get away from me, Remus,” Sirius shouted as his body moved of its own accord. “You’re in danger.”

Remus looked more and more confused as Sirius continued to approach him. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, Moony.” Sirius brought up his wand, pointing it directly at Remus. 

“Sirius, what are you doing?” Remus asked, panicked and backing away. “Lower the wand, we can talk this out.”

“I told you, Remus. I’m a danger to you. Leave now, please,” Sirius begged. “I don’t want to do this.”

Remus was now backed into a corner. Sirius’s wand was still raised, pointing at his lover’s heart.

“Sirius, what the fuck are you doing?” Remus asked, repeating himself. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Remus.”

The entity in his mind took control again, and Sirius was powerless to do anything but watch as his mouth spat, “Avada Kedavra.”

Sirius watched in horror as the neon-green jet of light hit his moon straight in the chest.

Remus crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut.

The presence in Sirius’s mind retreated so that it no longer had control. 

Hello? Merlin? He’d like to wake up now. 

This was just some nightmare, right?

It felt like a nightmare, watching his lover broken underneath a wand. 

His wand.

If this wasn’t a nightmare, then this was Hell.

He was truly in Hell.

Sirius knelt in front of Remus’s now-cooling body. 

His eyes were still open, glassy and terrified in his newfound death.

“Fuck,” Sirius muttered, tears streaming down his face. “Fuck. Remus, Moony, come back, please.”

There was no coming back, though. 

Sirius looked up at the serene night sky. 

He was going to see his Moony again soon.

—————

The next morning, two of Hogwarts’ best students were found dead in the Astronomy Tower.

Sirius Black was found alongside Remus Lupin, both in a lover’s embrace for the rest of eternity.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Part 1: Coastal

A March 2025 Hinny Microfic for @ginnystrophyhusband using Prompt 24

950 words (because I'm not terribly good at the actual 'micro' bit, but it's still technically okay. probably.)

Set in the same universe as this fic. A prequel of sorts, I suppose.

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

Apparating with her eyes closed is a very weird experience. Frankly, it’s disorientating enough without going in blind, but she trusts Harry. She stumbles when they arrive, but of course he steadies her, just like she knew he would.

Still, she’s still a bit annoyed about all the secrecy.

“I still don’t see why you couldn’t tell me where we’re going,” she grouses.

“I promise it’ll be worth it.” She can’t see his face, but she knows he’s smiling; she can hear it in his voice. That isn’t all she can hear; he’s bubbling with excitement, but he’s nervous too. Whatever this is, it means a lot to him. “Just keep your eyes closed until I say, yeah?”

She rolls her eyes behind her firmly shut eyelids. “Okay, okay.” 

“You’re a trooper, Gin.” There’s laughter in his voice as he takes her arm. “Right, it isn’t far now. I’ll guide you.”

She moves slowly and carefully in response to his gentle tug at her elbow, a little unsure of her footing. He’s right, though—it isn’t long before he announces that they’ve arrived, wherever the hell it is that he’s taking her.

“Can I open them yet?”

“No, not quite. Just… just hang on a sec.” He drops her elbow, and starts muttering under his breath. She doesn’t recognise the spell, and whatever it is seems quite complicated, because it takes a while.

While she waits, she thinks about what she can tell about her surroundings. Despite being deprived of her sight, it’s actually quite a lot.

She can hear the caw of seagulls, and not too far away, the crash of waves on the shore, so they’re near the coast. There's a tang of salt in the air so the sea must be very close, but the ground beneath her feet is level and solid, so they’re not actually on the beach. Harry stops muttering, and she hears the squeak of a reluctant gate, before he guides her forward a few more steps. She recognises the familiar warm tingle of a passing through a ward on her skin, and thinks she can smell lavender, and maybe… mint? They’re in someone’s garden, she decides. 

“Okay,” he tells her, proudly. “You can open your eyes.”

She’s right. She’s standing in a garden, and a very pretty one at that, but she pays absolutely no attention to it at all, because oh! The cottage that the garden belongs to, the cottage that’s right in front of her, is absolutely beautiful.

It’s got white-painted walls and a dark slate roof. The front door is painted blue, and there are matching window boxes filled with a variety of plants that she recognises from Herbology. She knows instantly that she’s somewhere very special.

“So,” he asks, and she can hear his nervousness again. “What do you think?”

“It’s gorgeous, Harry!” With some effort she manages to tear her eyes away from it to look at her boyfriend. He looks relieved, and happy and eager, and it absolutely melts her, like it always does. “But why are we here? And since I’m asking, where exactly is here?”

“Wales,” he tells her. “Pembrokeshire, actually. And we’re here because… well, because it’s mine. I bought it.”

“You live here?” It’s a shock, but not a surprise. She knew he wasn’t keen on staying at Grimmauld long term. She just hadn’t realised his escape was quite so imminent.

“No, not quite,” he explains. “But I will be. I’m moving in next weekend. I just wanted you to see it first, because… well, I didn’t just buy it for me, I bought it for us, because I was hoping you might consider moving here with me?”

They’ve talked about it already, of course, so he isn’t blindsiding her completely with this suggestion of moving in together. It’s just that all their conversations so far have been purely hypothetical—or at least, she thought they were. Apparently, she was mistaken. He’s actually bought her—them—a house? It’s simultaneously utterly insane and incredibly romantic, and so very, very Harry.

She spins slowly on the spot, taking in the neat garden, the sand dunes beyond the gate, and the stretch of sand leading down to the sea that seems to go on forever. It’s all as utterly gorgeous as the cottage.

Beside her, Harry’s still talking, rambling really. “...still quite a distance to Holyhead, but closer than Devon. Or London. Plus I know you weren’t keen on London, and to be honest neither am I, so I thought you might like it here better.” He doesn’t do it often; only when he’s really nervous, and only when something really matters to him, she’s noticed. “I’ve nearly finished the wards, and I thought Bill would check them for me so it’ll be really safe. You could help with the decorating, paint colours and wallpaper too if you like. We’ll need some furniture, I don’t want to bring anything from Grimmauld and you can—”

She grabs the front of his hoodie, fisting both hands into the fabric, and pulls him down towards her, crashing her lips into hers. As expected, it shuts him up pretty effectively. 

She doesn’t release him for several long, breathless moments, and when she does, his beautiful, sea-green eyes are darkened and glazed, but full of hope.

“Yes! Yes of course I’ll move here with you!”

His face absolutely lights up. “Really? You’re sure? I mean, you don’t want to see inside first?”

She shakes her head. “Don’t need to. I already know it’s going to be perfect.” 

She knows that’s true, because she’s going to make sure of it. Harry’s found them the perfect house. She’s going to make it their perfect home.

[espinosaurusrexex]

[lesbianjodie]

You know I've been thinking, like. Since the detco movies aren't canon. They should totally do a silly (actually really serious and interesting) one where the culprit actually IS a real monster a la some scooby doo movies, you know? And then let the franchise go on as normal but now we know how the characters would respond to having ghosts in their soup.

[faaun]

the way that diff languages sound r so fascinating they're all different and all so vivid

[light-wrath-paradise]

Can anyone who knows Uglies explain what the hell changed that just 10 years ago it was considered great and groundbreaking and now I see nothing but people saying that it's dumb and uninspired and has no point or meaning?

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

scrolling through an old word document and I came across the squeeblin screenshots I forgot I took

why does it look LIKE THAT?! why does it have a human face?! why does it only look half animated?! why is it almost see through? it looks like it belongs in the Blackwood not Glipwood Forest!

Even before it opens its mouth it looks WEIRD

the HECK is this Wingfeather people? who forgot to finish animating the squeeblin?! I am CONCERNED for its health and wellbeing. I know you were in a rush but this thing is nightmare fuel please fix it