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familyvideostevie · 6 months

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time you will not spend alone

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3

Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.

You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.

It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.

Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.

"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."

She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.

"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."

You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.

"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."

She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"

You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.

Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.

It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve.

God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.

So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.

"How do you choose which ones to pick?"

"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."

She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."

You roll your eyes at her.

"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"

"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"

She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.

"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."

You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."

"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.

It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.

"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."

"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.

She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."

You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."

She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.

"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"

"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."

"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."

It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.

The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.

It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.

You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.

"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."

"Can you hold these?"

You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.

"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"

"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."

He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.

When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.

He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.

You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.

"Did you have a job already?" you ask.

"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"

"They're for you."

Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.

"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"

You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.

He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.

"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."

"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure.

He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.

"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.

You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.

"I am pretty romantic," he muses.

It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.

And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.

Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.

So, you also do things like bring him flowers.

Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.

Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.

"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."

___

Joel is hiding something from you.

The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.

But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.

He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.

In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.

One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.

"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.

"Gimme a second," he calls back down.

"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"

Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.

Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."

You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"

The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.

"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"

"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"

Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"

The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.

"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.

"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.

"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."

"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"

"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."

She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."

"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.

You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."

"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."

You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.

And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.

"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.

The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."

"I think he'd say the same thing about you."

Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.

"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."

"Is he just telling everyone but me?"

"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."

You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.

Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"

You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.

A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened.

You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."

"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."

"Except what happens in my own home," you tease.

He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.

"I know I will."

You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself.

Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.

Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.

And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.

"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."

You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”

“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask.

Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.

"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."

Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.

"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."

"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.

"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."

It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.

“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."

He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.

"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."

You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."

He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”

Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.

After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.

"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.

"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.

"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."

He shrugs.

You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.

The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.

The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."

His fingers press into your skin.

"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"

"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.

Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.

"I can work some magic right now," he says.

You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.

"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."

You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.

Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."

Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.

"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.

Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.

"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"

He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.

"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."

You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.

"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.

Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.

You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.

His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.

"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.

"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."

He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.

"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."

It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.

"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"

A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.

"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.

"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.

"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.

"And I want you to fuck me," you add.

It's Joel's turn to laugh.

"Now who's the romantic one?" he says.

You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.

His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.

"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Flirt," you tease.

He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.

He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.

"Ready?"

You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.

Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.

"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"

You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.

He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.

"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.

You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.

Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"

"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.

"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"

Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.

"Joel?"

He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.

"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."

The confession stops you in your tracks.

"Oh?"

You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.

They're the same thing, really.

And he's made you something – one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.

But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.

"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"

Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.

You gingerly take it from him.

"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.

You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make.

"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."

He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.

The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.

Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.

He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."

You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."

He runs his hand along your spine.

"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."

You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.

"What should I write in it?"

Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.

"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.

"All what?"

He shrugs one bare shoulder.

"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."

You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.

"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.

"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."

You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do.

The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.

Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.

You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.

"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.

He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."

You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.

"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."

“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”

How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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peachtarto · 6 months

Text

Now or Never

Pairing : Luke Castellan x reader

Word Count :

Summary : Luke missed his chance to ask you an important question, and is painfully unaware of it.

Warnings: mostly fluff! nothing crazy- Luke is dumb, Clarisse is an overprotective bestie, talk of self-doubt etc.

Masterlist here!

A/N : thinking of making this a little series of moments in your relationship- let me know if that’s something you guys would like!

‘Don’t you think it’s a little much?’ You questioned, eyeing your own reflection with what some might call a generous amount of scrutiny.

Silena gave no indication that she’d heard and continued talking, ‘there’ll be such good food, and wine of course, lots and lot of wine..’

The pins in your hair were already beginning to ache, and you tried not to wince as she added yet another one to the elegant braid she was painstakingly creating.

‘- imagine if we made this much fuss for our birthdays,’ she continued, ‘like, I get that he’s the god of festivity but I’ve got to question why he wants to party with a load of hormonal teenagers. Not that I’m complaining, we could all use a good party.’

Silena was already dressed: a deep purple gown of silk accented with golden cuffs, and little combs fashioned like gilded laurel leaves swept her hair away from her face. She looked beautiful, and there was not a doubt in your mind that she was the daughter of Aphrodite.

She’d picked out your dress which had been a relief, a soft chiffon that seemed to float when you moved. It was simple but elegant, she’d insisted- perfect for a daughter of Athena. She’d also said that the hair should match, but it’d been half an hour since she’d started and it was starting to feel everything but simple.

‘And can you believe we’re allowed to switch tables tonight? I can’t wait! Charles said we’d sit together obviously and I’m sure the Hermes boys will join as and..’

Her smile faltered when she saw the look on your face and she quickly halted her movements, ‘oh, don’t you like it?’

‘No no, it’s beautiful!’ You stammered quickly; she’d curled and brainded your hair back in a thick, loose plait with little gold pins shimmering throughout. Even in cabin 10, her skills were unrivalled. ‘I just- do you think it’s too much?’ You questioned again.

‘Too much?’ She scoffed, and then her full lips parted in a dazzling smile, ‘of course it’s too much, that’s the point! We want every boy in this camp on their knees! Figuratively of course.’

You tried to hide the smile that tugged on your lips, ‘You’ve already got Charles drooling after you non-stop, leave some for the rest of us.’

‘Some?’ She said and grinned rather fiendishly, ‘or do you want me to leave just a certain son of Hermes for you?’

You rolled your eyes and gave her a smooth, and rather horrible gesture as she went back to toying with your hair, giggling to herself.

Silena had been the one to introduce you to Luke two years prior. She’d gracefully swept you into her circle the moment you’d arrived in camp, convinced you would be claimed by her mother too. Had Luke not intervened and taken you to cabin 11 she probably would’ve had you sleeping top to toe in her bunk; she’d reluctantly handed you over, but not before she’d seen the look that had passed between the two of you. Love at first sight she’d insisted, and maybe she’d been mistaken on his end, but she hadn’t on yours.

‘You know, he really does like you. I can tell, and you should believe me because it’s literally my thing.’ She sighed, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She pulled and prodded at a few loose hairs until she seemed satisfied, then dragged you over to the long mirror at the back of the cabin.

You didn’t know how she’d managed it, but for once you didn’t cringe at the reflection you saw and a part of you couldn’t quite believe what stared back. There was no denying she was a master at her craft.

‘You look so beautiful!’ Silena squealed, her hands clasped together in pride. Then, without warning she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug that had the air leaving your lungs. ‘Tonight’s the night, for both of us, I can feel it!’

You hoped she was right as you followed her out of the cabin, towards the glittering lights in the pavilion.

Luke stood with Charles and Chris at the edge of the party, sipping slowly on the glass of wine in his hand. He supposed Mr D had been granted a night of reprieve.

‘Seriously man, chill out,’ he whispered over Beckendorf’s shoulder, ‘she’ll be here. Keep frowning like that and you’ll pop a blood vessel.’

He could sense Charles shifting in his feet nervously and his mouth twitched slightly, he knew the feeling all too well. He’d been on edge all day too. Chris was smirking too, but his was all smugness; he’d asked Clarisse outright to attend the party with him and much to everyone’s surprise, she’d said yes immediately, which was lucky for him because the alternative would almost certainly have been the loss of a limb.

‘How can it possibly take this long to get ready?’ Charles said, turning to face Luke. It was odd to see the son of Hephaestus so flustered when he was normally immune to the whims of teenage hormones; apparently he was not at all immune to the power Silena Beauregard seemed to hold over him. ‘Maybe she’s not coming man, we should just go before- oh..’ he trailed off. His eyes went starry and Luke whipped his head around to see what had entranced his friend.

There was Silena in her finery, tossing her hair over a shoulder as she swept into the pavilion. She threw a dangerously beautiful grin at Charles who was beginning to look a little like he might faint.

‘Hi Charles,’ she offered as she sauntered over. Anyone else might’ve missed the shake in her voice, but Luke caught the slightly nervous wobble of her tone and smiled. Good for Beckendorf.

‘You look great Silena,’ he managed to cough out. He quickly eyed Luke who gave an tiny nod of approval as if to say ‘keep going buddy!’

‘I know,’ she sighed dreamily, giving a little twirl of her dress before looping her arm through Charles’ who was now definitely holding his breath. Silena giggled and patted his chest sweetly before throwing a mischievous glare at Luke, ‘Just wait till you see her, I think you’ll get a little breathless too Castellan. Now come on Charlie, let’s get a drink.’

Luke watched her lead his friend away to where Chris stood with an arm slung around Clarisse’s waist; she’d opted for a gown of stormy grey adorned with tiny silver chains, as close to armour as she could get he guessed. She looked slightly terrifying, until Chris whispered something in her ear that had a blushing like crazy and stepping even closer into his side.

‘They make a great couple, don’t you think?’

Luke spun around quickly at the sound of your voice and cursed silently, Silena had been right. All the air left his lungs in a great breath and he was instantly lightheaded at the sight of you.

Devastating was the only word that came to his mind. Truly devastating. You could’ve walked into Olympus then and there and they probably would’ve pronounced you a goddess in an instant. He was struck dumb, and silent. He wanted to say something about how beautiful you looked, or how he’d been wrapped around your delicate finger the day you’d walked into camp; instead his frantic brain settled on, ‘nice dress, did you borrow it from Silena?’

You flinched. ‘No. We were sent a trunk to pick from from her mother.’

‘Oh.’ Was all he could reply as his gaze raked over you again. ‘That’s awfully nice of her.’

‘Very.’ You said through gritted teeth, trying to stop the scarlet blush you could feel rising to your cheeks. What was his problem? It wasn’t unusual for Luke to be blunt, he always struggled to keep his opinions to himself and it had gotten you both in hot water a hundred times before; but it was unusual for him to be blunt with you.

He’d been distant all week, he’d managed to miss three sparring sessions with you and counsellor duties on several occasions. The first few times Chris had been polite enough to make excuses for him, but when the two of you walked into the arena one morning to find Luke and Travis swinging swords at eachother, he’d stayed silent. He didn’t have to tell you what was already painfully obvious. Luke wasn’t ill, and hadn’t ’slept in late’, he’d just been avoiding spending any amount of time with you. You hadn’t had any idea why; and now, standing in the pavilion with the air thinning in between you both, you were even more confused.

He ran his eyes over your dress yet another time and something seemed to snap in your chest. ‘If you’re going to keep judging my outfit,’ you managed to spit out, ‘do it at the dinner table, I’m starving and don’t have the energy to defend myself. Let’s go sit with the others.’

You span away from him so quickly you missed him opening and closing his mouth as he tried to explain himself. As you stalked towards the table your friends had gathered around you must’ve been wearing a murderous expression, because Silena quirked her eyebrow at him with a face that said ‘what did you say?’ He responded with a small shrug before slipping into the seat opposite you.

Luke tried, and failed, to catch your eye throughout dinner. Food came and went, and glasses of a sweet amber wine refilled themselves as soon as the last drop hit the drinker’s lips. Silena had made her way through at least five glasses by his count, and was whispering something in Charles’ ear that had the man choking on his strawberry tart. You’d barely touched yours, and had politely declined his offer to get you something else to drink. You’d barely touched your dinner either, pushing things around your plate with your fork until Connor had unceremoniously dumped the contents of it onto his own. He felt he should apologise for his brother’s behaviour, but when he’d tried, you’d turned to watch the campers dancing by the fire.

The soft light from the flames flickered over the planes of your face and he knew he shouldn’t stare, but after starving himself of you for almost a week, he was finding it hard to look away. If he was honest with himself, it had been almost impossible to endure. You’d spent almost every day together for two years; a week apart had him feeling like he was missing a limb.

But a week apart was better than a week of watching male campers saunter up to you in a flurry of proposals. He’d managed to stick around long enough to see two Ares boys crash and burn and that was more than enough. If the failures were that bad, seeing you agree to attend the party with someone would probably have finished him off. He wondered which insufferable git you’d given in to, which one you’d been stood up by.

Curious, he leaned forward and asked loud enough to get your attention- ‘where’s your date?’

You slid your eyes away from the dancers and faced Luke. He was toying with the stem of his glass. Your throat tightened, and your face warmed uncomfortably. ‘I don’t have one.’

‘What?’ He asked incredulously.

‘Loads of people came alone Luke.’ You said replied quietly, keenly aware of the sudden silence of the conversations between everyone else at the table. ‘It’s not a big deal.’

‘I know, I just thought you would’ve put someone out of their misery. Every guy at camp must’ve asked you.’

‘Almost every guy.’ Chris whispered into his drink, rolling his eyes.

‘A few asked, yes.’ You murmured.

‘And you came alone anyway?’

You could’ve sworn Chris was wincing now, and Clarisse had the good sense to find the lights strung above the tables incredibly interesting all of a sudden. Silena however, looked like she was about to explode. You didn’t even know where to begin, your cheeks weren’t warm anymore, they were burning.

‘Yes.’ You ground out, hoping he’d take the hint and keep his mouth shut for once.

Luke went to speak, but Charles cut in before he could begin. ‘We should go dance!’ He declared, slapping his knees over-enthusiastically and standing so quickly he nearly toppled over his chair. The others rose with murmurs of agreement, eager to get away from what was becoming an increasingly awkward conversation.

‘You guys go ahead,’ you said, rising from your chair ‘I’m going to get some fresh air.’

You hoped no one would mention that you were already outside, surrounded by fresh air, and thankfully no one did. Silena gave you an apologetic look but you shook it off. The lights suddenly seemed much too bright, and the table of your friends was starting to feel like an audience to your embarrassment. As they all walked towards the fire you began in the opposite direction, lifting your dress slightly to allow your feet to travel quickly towards the cabins.

Luke felt Silena’s hand meet the back of his head in a swift slap before he could reach out to stop it.

‘You are as dense as old bread Castellan!’ She hissed as he cradled his neck. The boys were looking at him disapprovingly, but Clarisse was just glaring at him like she was sizing him up for a fight.

‘Chris where’s my knife?’ She asked coldly, holding her hand out in her boyfriend’s direction.

‘Woah- what did I do?’ Luke exclaimed, which earned him a hard flick right in the centre of his forehead. Whoever said Aphrodite’s children weren’t vicious fighters was beginning to sound like a goddam liar, he thought.

‘Do you know how many guys she turned down for tonight?’ Silena continued, ‘almost every guy at camp! And do you know why Captain No Clue?’

Luke just stared blankly until she let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Because she was waiting for you to ask her! I was hoping you’d pull your finger out by the end of the week but you didn’t, and you let her come alone.’

He flinched. Silena’s face tightened and her dark eyes flicked to Charles. Something unsaid flashed between them before she turned her gaze back on Luke; her anger was gone, replaced with something strangely close to pity.

‘You wanted to ask her, didn’t you?’ She asked- carefully. Her eyes were beginning to crinkle like she was about to burst into tears. She dashed forward and forced him down into a tight hug. ‘Oh Luke, I’m so stupid!’

Clarisse rolled her eyes. ‘Daughter of the goddess of love and you didn’t see this one coming? Even Chris figured this one out!’ She chided, then added sweetly in his direction, ‘no offence babe.’

He thought of every moment he’d spent with you; the hours of sparring sessions under the heat of the summer sun, the picnics out in the strawberry fields, sneaking between your cabins in the middle of the night to swap stories of your lives before all of this. He’d known the risks of falling for you, and he’d done it anyway. He’d thought about telling you a hundred times. He had thought about telling you that he didn’t want or expect anything from you in return, that he just needed you to know how he felt because it was torture to suffer it in silence. Over the months he’d managed to convince himself that you didn’t feel anything close to what he felt for you, and had resigned himself to living in the wake of your existence.

Luke’s heart stumbled, taking all the confusion and doubt with it, he blurted, ‘I should go after her,’ and started after you, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Even at a fast-paced jog, he only managed to catch up with you when you were rushing up the stairs to your cabin, the skirts of your dress billowing out behind you.

‘Wait up!’ he shouted through heavy breaths.

You didn’t let him continue and just increased your pace, rushing to get to the door. If you could make it inside and shut him out, perhaps he wouldn’t see the tears that had begun fall. A small part of you ached to stop and turn to him, but you knew what was coming. Silena would have tried to intervene once you’d left, and he was probably coming after you to let you down gently. You weren’t sure you could survive that.

‘Gods will you slow down!’ Luke yelled, ‘I want to talk to you!’

‘Don’t bother,’ you said bluntly, ‘I know what you’re going to say.’

‘Oh yeah? What am I going to say?’

He’d taken the Athena cabin steps two at a time and was right behind you now. You could hear his ragged breathing, had he ran here? He must really want to get it over with, you thought bitterly. ‘Does it matter? Just go back to the party Luke, they’ll be missing you.’

‘It matters to me. I don’t want to be there if you’re not.’ He said softly and reached out to grab your hand. His fingers grazed your own, warm and steadfast- patiently waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t, you couldn’t bare it.

As you turned to face him fully you realised you were close enough to share breath. In other circumstances you might’ve stared up at him with longing; now all there seemed to be was the awful sinking feeling that you were about to lose him.

You opted to not meet his eyesight, and instead studied the scuffed wood of the cabin porch beneath your feet.

‘Then why didn’t you ask me to go with you?’ You managed to ask. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin like a brand. ‘I thought we were friends Luke, I thought that would be enough to get you to tolerate me for one evening so neither of us had to go alone.’

‘That’s not..’ he took a deep breath before he continued. Now or never, he thought, and opted for now.

‘I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want to go as your friend. I wanted to go as your date. I knew you’d say no, because every guy here was chalking up how to ask you themselves and I couldn’t- I couldn’t stand it. I’d prepared myself to see you with someone else tonight and it caught me off guard to see you alone. I had all these things I wanted to say to you, about how beautiful you looked, but I panicked and said some really stupid stuff back there. And i’m sorry, for all of it.’

It was your turn to take a deep breath, and without thinking your fingers tightened around his own. The air was too tight, humming between your bodies, between your joined hands.

‘Ask me now then.’ You dared.

He was silent for long enough that you dared to look up and meet his eyes. You were sure your expression was mirrored on his own: shock, longing, and then something like amusement.

He was smiling like a kid on Christmas at your offer, broad and unrestrained. ‘You want me to ask you to go to the party with me? Now? After I’ve just poured my heart out?’

‘If you don’t want to that fine.’ You teased, a small smile returning to your face. ‘What was it you said about every guy at camp?’

Luke let out a laugh and took a step closer, ‘I don’t care about the party. Go on a date with me. Tomorrow, today, hell let’s go now. I don’t care. Just go out with me. I’m not waiting another two years for this chance.’

‘Of course I’ll go out with you Castellan.’ You replied softly. You didn’t even have to think about your answer, you’d been preparing it for months.

‘Really?’

‘Yes really.’ You laughed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

With a sudden burst of confidence, Luke leaned down to brush his mouth against your blushing cheek. You thought you might burst then and there as he pulled you into his chest to whisper in your ear, ‘you look beautiful. You are beautiful. Always. Even covered in sweat during sparring practice, or windswept from the chariot races. I can never look away from you.’

He was blushing too when he pulled away, leaving you staring up at him, breathless again. His smile was nervous as he said, ‘I want to do this properly, I’ll plan something great I promise. But for now, I would be honoured if you’d come back to the party with me, as my date.’

You quirked an eyebrow. ‘Will you dance with me?’

‘Of course I’ll dance with you,’ Luke said, wrapping an arm around your waist, ‘I plan to show you off in fact. I’m pretty sure I’ve just achieved the impossible as far as the guys here are aware. I reserve bragging rights.’

#luke castellan x reader #imagine #imagines #percy jackson #luke castellan #fic #annabeth chase #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #disney #clarisse la rue #silena beauregard #charles beckendorf #chris rodriguez #camp half blood #percy pjo #percy and annabeth #charlie bushnell

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nadvs · 6 months

Text

both sinners (part one)

pairing drugdealer! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug use

summary as a stripper, you’re well aware that someone you know could walk into the club at any moment. when rafe is your newest customer, you’re actually glad to see a familiar face.

{ masterlist }

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The room is humid. The pole is smooth. The music is throbbing. And the seats are filling up fast. It’s a typical Saturday night at the club.

You just stepped out on the stage, circling the pole, taking slow, seductive steps in your stilettos.

A polished ‘reserved’ name plate sits on table in the booth right in front of you. You’ll start your routine and get undressed when the people who claimed that booth come in.

You’ve only been stripping for a few months, but you know well enough by now that it’s not worth putting your best show on until the reserved booths are full. Those customers are the most generous with their tips.

Moments later, in the pink and purple lights shimmering over the large club, you can make out the shadowed figures of three men piling into the booth.

You hook your leg around the pole and gyrate while they get seated, ready to start your show.

Rafe settles in the cushioned booth and is immediately captivated by you. You’re so smooth with every slow roll of your hips.

He glances around, seeing the other dancers, but there’s something about you that’s magnetic. It’s like his eyes will only allow him to look at you.

You’re in a sheer skirt and a scant bra; in his opinion, too many clothes are covering your body. He watches while you sensually sway, the lights hitting your planes and curves.

When you arch your back to pull the string holding your bra together, baring your tits, you bra falls to the floor in a bunch. You dip your head back, chest uncovered and so fucking perfect, as you hold yourself up on the pole.

You’re left in nothing but a mini-skirt, lace panties, and six-inch heels.

He’s in awe.

“Dude!” Topper shouts over the music. Rafe looks over at his friend and the waitress leaning over his shoulder. “Drink?”

Rafe realizes they’ve probably been trying to get his attention for a while. He was just too damn distracted by the silhouette on stage.

He laughs, ordering an old fashioned, and turns his attention back to you.

“Acting like you’ve never seen tits before,” Topper chides him, shoving his shoulder and making Kelce crack up.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe chuckles.

You hike yourself up on the pole and slowly spread your legs apart, twisting and rolling. Goddamn. He’s already so fucking worked up just from watching you dance a few feet away from him.

You wait until their drinks arrive and let them get a few sips in before you sink to the glossy floor and swing your legs over the stage.

“Hi, boys,” you say over the music, turning on the flirty, confident identity you always take on while on stage. “Having fun?”

“It’s his birthday,” one of them shouts and points to the man in the middle.

“Oh, yeah?” you say with a smile. You slowly drop onto the carpeted floor and start to close the distance between you and the three men.

The way your hips swing is making Rafe’s groin get tighter. He can’t believe this is his first time in a strip club. What the fuck took him so long?

You freeze for a second when you realize you know these guys. Kind of.

Even though you live nowhere near Figure 8, you’ve befriended enough wealthy people on the island to get invited to their extravagant house parties. And you’ve definitely seen these men before.

You know Rafe best out of the three. He sells the purest coke you’ve ever tried and he somehow gets hotter every time you see him. You’ve talked to him maybe twice, buying a couple of grams off of him.

It’ll only be awkward if you make it awkward, so you place your hands on the edge of the table in the middle of the booth and lean forward, arms pressed against your sides to push out your tits.

Rafe’s eyes dip to your naked chest immediately, then back up to your face. He’s met you before. He thought you were hot then, and he thinks you’re hot now.

“I know you,” you tease. He finds it sexy how you’re completely unfazed by this, not embarrassed at all to be half-naked like this in front of them. “Happy birthday.”

His friend, who you’re pretty sure people call Topper, holds out a folded $50 between his fore finger and middle finger to you.

“First dance is on me, man,” Topper slurs, patting Rafe’s chest with his other hand. By the lazy smiles on their faces, you can tell these aren’t their first drinks of the night.

You lick your lips and smile as you take the bill and tuck it in the waistband of your skirt. You know these guys are loaded. You’re going to make a killing tonight.

You look back at the stage, spotting another dancer and cocking your chin to silently gesture to her to join the table and keep the other guys entertained while you focus on Rafe.

You slowly make your way towards him, the erotic, bass-heavy music surrounding you. You typically let your mind drift away while you give a customer a lap dance, but you’re actually attracted to this one.

The sight of your thighs spreading as you kneel down to straddle him makes Rafe’s heart start pounding even harder.

“Hi,” you say with a sweet smile. You settle and hover over him, mostly supporting yourself on your knees, but sitting on his lap just enough to feel his firm thighs beneath you.

You’re a little nervous, which takes you by surprise. This must be what happens when a customer is someone you have a crush on.

His cologne smells crisp and expensive as you put your hands on his broad shoulders, rubbing over the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Hi,” Rafe says with a stunned grin, his dimples deep. You feel his hands settle under your skirt, fingers splayed over your ass. Even though the rules are strict against touching the dancers, and you’re sure he was told that when he arrived, you let him.

It feels so damn good to be wanted like this by him, to have him touch you. Besides, he seems like the type who thinks he’s above the rules anyway, so telling him not to touch you would be a waste of breath.

“How’s your day been?” you coo, palms sliding down to his chest. Rafe’s blue eyes trail from your mouth to your half-naked body, the handsome angles of his face shadowed under the lights.

“Better now,” he says, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. You giggle, leaning to speak into his ear.

“They don’t let you touch the dancers here,” you mumble to him, “but I’ll give you a pass tonight.”

You pull back to see him clench his defined jawline as he squeezes harder.

“Yeah?” he rasps, the sharp smell of bourbon on his breath. “How come?”

“It’s my birthday present to you,” you say, starting to writhe on him.

“Bullshit,” he smirks. “It’s ‘cause you want me to touch you.” You can admit to yourself that his ego is kind of charming. And yeah, he’s right. His hands on you do feel good.

You sit up to prop your chest right up to his face. Rafe breathes in the smell of your perfume, revelling in the feeling of your tits inches away from his face.

“Are you always this cocky?” you ask. You rake a hand up the back of his head, his hair soft between your fingers.

“Yeah,” Rafe says simply, his careless shrug adding to his charm. You start to gyrate against him, feeling his firmness in his jeans. You dip your head, your cheek pressed against his as you grind.

“That feels good, huh?” you hum.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice deep as he says your name. “I didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”

Damn. You’re actually getting wet right now. This never happens. This is supposed to be work.

“Now you know,” you reply. Your hand slides down his chest, over his firm stomach, landing at his groin. Damn. He’s big.

“Shit,” he groans. You pull back, seeing Rafe’s drunken smile, and seamlessly sit up to swing your leg off of him, backing up to shake your ass on him.

The way your skirt is bouncing with every recoil makes him feel like he could go crazy. You look back at him to see him digging into his pocket, taking a wad of cash out.

He tucks a bill into the band of your skirt, his bottom lip trapped under his teeth as he watches you lustfully.

The way you shake and sway and bump on his lap is making the tension in him tighten, closer and closer to snapping by the second. It’s not enough. He needs to see you fully naked.

The next time you look at him, Rafe impatiently wags his fingers to beckon you to turn towards him again. You obey and kneel over, your faces only inches apart, your hands on his thighs, your ass in the air.

“You gonna get naked or what?” he mutters impatiently. You’re flattered that he’s so into you.

“I can, here,” you say, eager to upsell, “or we can go up to a private room.”

“Yeah?” he says. “What else can we do in there?”

“Did you come here to talk?” you hear a man shout. You realize Topper’s giving him shit, smiling as one of the other dancers grinds on him.

You honestly like that Rafe is talking to you instead of silently watching you dance for him, but you giggle, trying to keep the atmosphere light and fun.

Rafe doesn’t like you laughing with his friend. Or smiling at him. Or even looking at him.

“Let’s go,” Rafe says resolutely. You turn to gaze at him again, his eyes gleaming in the flickering lights.

“It’s $100 for a room-” you begin, but he interrupts.

“Let’s go,” he repeats. You have a feeling you could tell him any price and he’d agree.

You smile and take Rafe’s hand, leading him upstairs to one of the VIP rooms. A bouncer standing in the top level hallway nods to you and motions to a free room.

“No touching, buddy,” he warns Rafe, who only replies with a mocking nod. This man has no respect for anyone or anything. And he makes it look so sexy.

The small space offers an upholstered booth, a pole, and a table for drinks. The dim red bulb on the ceiling seems to casts more shadows than light, making Rafe annoyed that he won’t be able to see you better.

He settles onto the booth as you shut the door behind you. His legs are spread wide, his cock stretching his jeans out in an impressive bulge.

The music is muffled, but still loud enough to dance to in the private room. You toss the bills that are sitting under your waistband onto the table, then position yourself between his knees to writhe for him as you pull down the zipper on the side of your skirt.

The skirt pools around your heels. Rafe drinks in the vision of your lace panties, the way the fabric hugs your lips. He has never been more turned on.

“Damn…” he groans with a disbelieving scoff, his hands sliding up your thighs. When he runs a thumb up your middle, you tremble.

This feels unreal. You’ve given every other man who merely tried to touch your hand a firm reminder of the rules. But here you are, letting Rafe touch your pussy, loving the feeling.

“I knew you were fine, but shit,” he mutters.

You can’t help but wonder if he was attracted to you before he laid eyes on you tonight, when you were fully dressed at the parties you’ve seen each other at.

Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk as he digs into his pocket to pull out his wallet and a clear baggy of white powder. If you weren’t sure that he couldn’t give less of a fuck about rules before, you are now.

“Want some?” he asks.

“I’m working,” you laugh.

“What’s a little bit gonna do?” Rafe asks, pulling out a credit card. “Lie down.”

Intrigued, you follow his orders, settling on the booth onto your back.

“Stay still,” he mutters. You laugh to yourself in disbelief when you realize he’s setting up a line on your chest, right between your tits. He’s almost too much.

Rafe loves the way the powder looks sitting on your skin. He taps the edge of his credit card against the line of coke, evening it out, before he leans down and snorts through a rolled up bill.

Euphoria hits every one of his senses immediately. His lips are right by yours and he gives into his impulse like he always does, leaning down to kiss you.

He takes you by surprise when he captures your lips in his. You smile beneath his hot mouth, enthralled by his spontaneous passion, feeling him suck on your bottom lip. When he pulls back, he’s smiling.

“You sure you don’t want any?” Rafe asks, pupils blown.

“Fuck it,” you laugh. This night has been crazy enough. “Just a bump.”

You sit up, leaning against the cushion of the booth and you hold out your finger, watching as he carefully tips some coke out of the baggy. You rub it over your gums, purposely sucking your finger as you pop it out of your mouth.

Everything about you is driving Rafe crazy in the best way. You’re so fucking carefree and self-possessed.

He shifts to hang over you, his fingers looping around the band of your panties. Rafe pulls them down your legs and sharply inhales when he sees your bare pussy.

He needs you. A dance isn’t enough.

“I’m supposed to do that part,” you breathe a chuckle.

“How much to fuck you?” He meets your eyes, his hair hanging over his forehead.

“We can’t do that, baby,” you laugh, although you desperately want to. You’d get fired in a second. “Not here.”

“It’s my birthday,” he whines with a heartbreaking grin. He palms his dick in his pants, eyes drifting down your body hungrily. “How much? I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You’ve already broken so many rules, and you would love to fuck him, but the risk of getting caught is just too high. You decide to compromise.

You put him hand on the hard swelling in his pants and rub.

“How about this?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes. “You sit down and I touch you.”

That way, you think, if anyone walks in, your back will be to the door and you can hide what you’re doing, making it look like you’re just giving him another lap dance.

Rafe nods, glad he has the promise of a release, and sits back down where he was before.

You shuffle to straddle him, feeling his hands on your ass again. You unbutton and zip down his jeans and he frantically bucks his hips up and slips them down.

When his cock pops out of his boxers, you nearly gasp at how big it is.

“I got hard the second I saw your tits,” he laughs, feeling drunk and high out of his mind.

“Yeah?” you purr. You spit on your palm then put your hand around his base. He groans, the pressure sending a roll of pleasure through his body.

“Yeah,” Rafe shudders. “You have really nice fucking tits.” Wow. He’s talkative when he’s high. You love it.

His hands move up to capture your breasts, squeezing the flesh.

“How the fuck am I not supposed to touch you? That’s a stupid fucking rule,” he mutters, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples. You shudder, arching your back at the sensation.

“Damn, you like that?” he rasps with a smirk.

“Yeah,” you breathe a laugh. You start to run your hand up and down his cock, arousal pooling in your gut.

“You’re telling me you don’t want this dick inside you?” he teases. You bite your bottom lip and twist your wrist as you stroke him.

“We can’t fuck in here,” you tell him.

“But we can somewhere else?” Rafe asks, tilting his chin towards you so you’ll kiss him again.

The coke is starting to hit your system as your tongue rolls over his, your palm wet against his cock.

“Yeah, we can,” you say shakily when you pull away.

“Shit, you’re good at that,” he grunts, looking down at your hand working him. All you can hear is the muffled music and your combined breathing and the sound of your wet skin rubbing over his.

“Yeah?” you ask.

Rafe’s head is spinning. He takes in the sight of his hands on your perfect tits, the way you’re jerking him off, the smile on your pretty face. All this combined with the liquor and coke rushing through him is fucking paradise.

“You wanna cum on me?” you impulsively ask. He’s still partly dressed, but you’re fully naked. It’d be easier to clean up. And, if you’re being honest, you want to feel his cum on you.

“You really are a bad girl,” Rafe laughs. You meet his eyes. He’s so depraved, but hell, so are you.

You put your other hand on him, rubbing his thick length in a faster rhythm. He rolls his head back as he groans.

“I’m gonna… oh, fuck…” His deep voice unravels into mumbles.

You aim his cock towards you, watching the white ropes of his cum spurt out of him, his body twitching beneath you. The hot liquid splashes over your stomach and your thighs, making you smile in satisfaction.

When he comes down from the high you gave him, he hands you his entire wad of cash.

You didn’t expect your night to take this turn, but it was so much fucking fun. And you have no idea if Rafe will remember any of this. But you hope he does.

{ part two }

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#my enemies/rivals to lovers fic took a little pause just bc i love this concept sm hehe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #obx smut #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron and reader

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ginkgo-phyta · 7 months

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I'm back again 😅

Hopefully, I'm not the only person with this opinion, but how do you think Spencer would react if his significant other told him that they thought he looked hot with his bulletproof vest on? 👀

omg is this injured spencer request anon?? I NEED TO KNOW im so sorry if it's not tho, whoever you are thank you so much for coming back!! i love you with all my heart you should use a special emoji as like ur own lil signature! :D

okay so i wanted to try blurb(?) format but mmm okay not really cuz just a wall of text was stressing me out but this is def more informal than my other work (look no capital letters!) and because i love you so much i present two scenarios for you :P... i cant fight this feeling anymore guys he rlly is so hot in his vest im becoming my most feral self grrrrr RAH RAH ALRIGHT hope you enjoy, my love!

OKAY SO SPENCER REACTING TO YOU TELING HIM HE'S HOT IN HIS FBI VEST gn! reader, fluff, second scenario a little steamy in tone but nothing explicit just h*rny vibes, no other warnings

if you weren't a profiler: you'd never thought about it before- spencer in his bulletproof vest. sure, you knew that his job required him to go into sticky situations where the prospect of gunfire was imminent and he would have to wear proper equipment, but you never put two nd two together. you never even thought of a kevlar vest as something that could be hot...until you saw a picture of him wearing it.

"what the hell is that." you blurt out, voice serious with hints of concern.

"huh?" spencer's as clueless as ever, a little worried about your reaction. he was just showing you random photos his team members had taken over the years, all printed out for easy viewing courtesy of the ever-so-accommodating penolope garcia. someone had taken a pic of a beautiful lake where the bau had saved yet another victim, the sun dipping below the horizon line of pine trees, painting the sky purple and pink. "um...the sunset?" spencer was confused, "i guess maybe it was kinda a weird time to take a photo, but no one was hurt and we caught the unsub and the sky really did look-"

you cut off his rambling with a wave of your hand, eyes never leaving the photo in front of you, "no, no...what's that." you point to what you were talking about, a figure standing off to the side.

spencer takes a minute, becoming even more bewildered "...me?" in that moment your world changed.

"oh my god... "you whispered in a daze, firmly pulling the picture out of spencer's fingers and into your own, "what...what are you wearing?"

"honey what's wrong? it's just my bulletproof vest. i know it might look a little funny, but it, y'know, keeps me alive..." he scratches the back of his neck. a couple seconds of silence pass, but to spencer it feels excruciatingly long.

"spencer," you look at up at him deadpan "you look so fucking hot." to say your boyfriend was shocked would be an understatement.

he was absolutely blown away by your response, so much so that the way his face contorted looked borderline disgusted. "wha-what?? huh? what?" he clamored, eyes flitting over your face to find any sign you were joking.

"seriously, baby, you look so good. oh, my God!!" you almost shriek, gripping the picture tighter, the widest, dumbest grin pulling up your cheeks as you giggle like a schoolgirl.

spencer smiles at your reaction, still a little perplexed "you really think so?" the notion begins to sink into his bones, making him giddy.

you very enthusiastically nod your head, "are there any more pictures of you like this?" you rip the rest of the photos out of spencer's hands, scouring through them at light speed. out of nowhere, spencer laughs out loud, his nose scrunching in delight.

"i...don't know what to say. i'm flattered you think that," a wonderful blush shimmers over his cheeks, "but no i don't think there are. sadly." he playfully adds.

you stop all movements, slowly turning towards him, suspiciously calm. "well then," you grab your phone and suddenly stand up "looks like i'll just have to ask penelope for some!"

"wait! wait, no!" spencer calls after you as you start speed-walking away, your shirt barely escaping his fingertips. he yells out your name, his serious tone interrupted by a giggle of his own as he begins chasing you, "get back here!" he knows: garcia can never ever find out about this...

if you were a profiler: you had seen spencer don his FBI branded bulletproof vest hundreds of times over the years. although you had pined over him for years and were now finally in a relationship with him, seeing him like that didn't make you feel any type of way really. sure, you thought he looked strong and handsome, but most of the time you were too caught up in the case or situation at hand to focus on how he looked. until now. something had shifted in him in the last few months, not just with his ever-changing haircut, but within the way he held himself; more confident, more sure of himself, even more cocky, if you will. whatever it was, it drew your eyes to him in his tight little vest like a lightbulb draws in moths- instantly and continuously. it all came to a head when you caught the unsub responsible for drowning and resuscitating his victims until they couldn't be brought back to life. spencer dove into the lake with emily to apprehend the killer while you had helped the kid he had hostage reunite with his mother. you smiled at the scene in front of you, the teenager running into his mother's shaking arms, her holding him close in a tight embrace. another good ending, you thought to yourself before turning back to watch your fellow profilers make the arrest. suddenly, you mouth goes dry. there spencer reid stood; soaking wet, clothes sticking to his skin, chest rising and falling as he panted to catch his breath, his hand pushing his wet hair out of his face. and that stupid, goddamn kevlar vest. oh, fuck. the others walked away from the dock to situate everyone and themselves in respected vehicles that sat back on the road a few hundred feet away from where you currently were. as spencer moved to follow behind emily, hands trying to flick the water off of him, your gaze stopped him in his tracks. he stood there, a bit confused as to why you were walking towards him, seemingly entranced, instead of beelining behind everyone else.

he spoke out your name, but you remained silent, stopping just a couple feet away from him. you took him in one more time: the way his shirt became translucent, granting you with peeks of his skin; his sleeves rolled up, showing off his delicious forearms; the way his soaked pants choked his thick thighs. you became woozy with desire. spencer watched as your eyes dragged over his figure, drinking in every inch of his dripping body. "oh, baby..." you voice drawled out as soon as your gaze landed on his bulletproof vest, "you're absolutely soaking wet." spencer's eyebrows shot up his forehead at the suggestive twinkle in your timbre. you approached him further, chest just inches away from his. if he wasn't so intrigued by your reaction, he would have been a bit more cautious of lingering teammates. your hands came up to ghost over his vest, "did i ever tell you how good i think you look in this?" you looked up at him through your lashes.

spencer chuckled, "in the bulletproof vest?" you nodded in response, but spencer still couldn't really believe it. "uh, no, actually, you haven't." his eyes glinted at the way you bit your lip, his hands moving on their own accord to rest on your hips. you could feel droplets of water seep into the material and lick your skin, but you didn't give a rat's ass.

"well, you do." you whisper, hands wrapping around the back of his neck as you pull yourself up to press a kiss to his lips, "really, really good." your mouth moves enticingly with his.

"oh? is that so?" he whispers against your lips, diving back in, his fingers digging in your hips. he graciously kisses you for a moment before it dawns on him that you're both still at work- in an active crime scene, at that. "mmh, mmh!" he vocalizes between kisses as he tries to move his head back a smidge. his eyes peak open just enough to see if anyone else was around. your lips are addicting, rendering him unable to fully tell you to stop, unable to fully pull away himself. he's relieved when he spots no one. still, he know this is far from appropriate. spencer's hands move up your body to wrap around your wrists behind him, pulling them away from him and the same time he pulled away from you, "okay, okay!" he breathes out with a chuckle, "i believe you now" he tries to catch his bearings, but your pouting face causes him to laugh again

"spencerrrr," you groan at the loss of your beloved's kisses and he turns you around and pushes you towards the spot where the others vanished, walking behind you with his hands on your shoulders, your body held at an arm's distance.

"let's go, angel." his words brought out a hmph! from you. "we can do more of that later at home" he whispers, leaning in ever-so-slightly.

you turn your head back to get a glimpse of him, your eyes and smile equally wide with excitement, "can you bring the vest with you?!"

A/N: OKAYYYY lemme stop myself before things get filthy LOL do yall know which episode im referring to in the second scenario? that end scene will always get me my eye are GLUED to spencer the entire time GODDAMN. okay anyway i hope you liked this anon!!! pls tell me yalls thoughts <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds fic

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kingofbodyrolls · 1 month

Text

when it sinks in (m) | ksj

Life as a mermaid is wonderful, especially when your merman boyfriend, Seokjin, treats you just right. But you’re beginning to recall memories that you don’t think are yours from life on land— from a past life maybe? When you do realize that the memories are in fact your own, the world comes tumbling down around you, questioning your very existence. Are you even a real mermaid?

→ Pairing: seokjin x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: established relationship → Genres: amnesia romance / fluff / smut / angst / drama / light yandere → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 13.1k → Warnings + triggers: amnesia, memories/visions, betrayal/lying, yandere behavior, controlling, identity crisis, struggling with the concept of ‘home’, drowning, merfolk mating (sex), unprotected sex; breast play, a lot of kissing, oral (male and female), sweet and tender love making, hair pulling, spitting, scratching with nails, gentle aftercare. → Author’s note(1): I finally finished another mermaid story! Only five more to go!!! I really love this universe I’ve created and I can’t wait to explore more for the other members! 💜 → Read on AO3? [link]

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The cool, wet embrace of the sea wraps around your skin like a silken veil, the deep, dark waters beckoning you into their mysterious depths. Your deep purple, scaly tail shimmers with an ethereal glow, catching the faintest glimmers of sunlight that dance like fleeting whispers on the ocean floor. You revel in the boundless freedom of the sea, gliding effortlessly through the currents, your spirit entwined with the rhythm of the waves. The myriad fish that weave around you are your companions, your fellow wanderers in this underwater realm that pulses with life, a world you have called home for as long as you can remember.

You have never set foot on land; the thought is as foreign as the idea of flight to a stone. Up there, beyond the shimmering surface, lies an unknown, a distant world that holds no allure for you. Down here, in the tranquil depths of the sea, you have found your sanctuary, your eternal haven, a place where time itself seems to pause and stretch into infinity.

A flash of shimmery pink darts past your vision, breaking your thoughts with a burst of playful energy. You can’t help but giggle as Seokjin, with his warm chestnut hair, shimmies away, his laughter bubbling up like pearls from the ocean floor. His presence is a light in the dark, a warm current in the cool embrace of the deep. He’s always been like that—playful, teasing, yet so undeniably yours. You catch sight of him as he attempts to find a new hiding spot, but his broad shoulders and mischievous grin give him away, and the chase is on.

Your tail flips furiously, propelling you through the water with the grace of a dancer. Fish scatter in your wake, startled by your swift movements as you close the distance between you and Seokjin. You’re playing hide and seek—believe it or not, two adult merfolk, lost in the joy of the game, the rest of the world fading into the background.

Before Seokjin reaches the cliffside, he turns to face you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He sticks his tongue out playfully, disappearing behind the rocky surface, but when you round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found. Confusion lingers for just a moment until strong hands wrap around your torso, just below your purple seashell bra, and you’re caught in his embrace. Laughter spills from your lips as he tickles your waist, his head nestled in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“I got you now, huh?” he whispers, his voice a low murmur that sends shivers down your spine.

His face nuzzles into the curve of your neck, and the warmth of his breath caresses your skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your entire being. Goosebumps rise in a wave, your body responding to his touch with a sigh of contentment. His plush lips graze your neck, planting soft kisses that trail upward until they find your mouth. His kiss is a tantalizing dance, a slow, deliberate exploration that leaves you yearning for more.

Your eyes close as your hands intertwine, your tails curling around each other in an intimate embrace. You pull him closer, your desire for him an insatiable hunger that swells with every beat of your heart. Time seems to dissolve, the world around you blurring into a sea of blue as you lose yourself in the sensation of his kiss, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours.

When you finally part, your eyes meet, both of you breathless, pupils wide and dark with longing. Your fingers remain laced together, your hearts beating in perfect harmony, a shared rhythm that speaks of a love as deep as the ocean itself. The dance continues, your bodies swaying in the current, moving as one, the world around you forgotten, reduced to the simple, undeniable truth of your bond.

And as you kiss him again, deeper this time, your tongue exploring his, you feel yourself slipping further into the depths of his love, where you could easily lose yourself forever and be content, knowing that in this moment, in this embrace, you have found your home.

When you part once more, his smile, that worldwide handsome smile, beams like the first rays of dawn, and you feel your heart melt in response. He gently takes your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin before bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss. “You know I love you, right?” he whispers, his voice a soft caress that lingers in the water around you.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, the sound light as the bubbles rising to the surface, as his kiss sends a shiver of warmth through you. Your hand sparkles with the ring he gave you—a creamy, lustrous pearl that glows with the promise he made, a symbol of forever. The memory of that moment when he asked you to be his, when you said yes with every fiber of your being, floods your mind, filling you with a love that feels as deep and endless as the ocean itself.

“Hmm,” you hum, your eyes reflecting the love that fills your heart, “I love you too.”

You smile, letting the moment wrap around you like a comforting current, and the once-blurred surroundings now sharpen into focus. Tiny yellow fish dart around with playful energy, their tails wiggling like ribbons in a breeze, while obsidian ones lurk in the wet sand below, their movements slow and deliberate. Schools of silver fish glide by in perfect synchrony, their scales catching the light in a shimmering dance that weaves through the water like a living tapestry. The underwater world around you is a lush, vibrant realm of greens and blues—kelp sways gracefully in the gentle currents, tangles of sea plants flourish with life, some adorned with delicate flower buds that bloom like jewels in the ocean’s embrace. The water, dark but crystal clear, reveals hidden caves and rocky outcroppings, perfect for hide-and-seek adventures, waiting to be explored.

A sudden, gentle touch against your tail startles you, and you turn to see Jungkook behind you, his expression one of playful exasperation. “Hyung! Jimin’s missing again,” he groans, his voice carrying a note of frustration. “Sorry, ___, I didn’t mean to swim into you.” He flashes you a sheepish grin before turning his attention back to Seokjin, not batting an eye at the fact that he interrupted your mating ritual.

Seokjin rolls his eyes, a sigh escaping him like the whisper of a tide. “Last time I saw Jimin, he said he got caught in a net on a boat but managed to escape. Maybe he got caught again?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen in horror, his imagination running wild. “Shouldn’t we help him then?”

Seokjin dismisses the concern with a casual wave of his hand, his confidence unwavering. “Nah, he’s perfectly fine on his own. He’s a grown merman." He reaches for your hand once more, pulling you close, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment.

“If he’s gone for longer than a week, maybe we can look for him,” he adds with a playful tug, drawing you gently away from the conversation. You hear Jungkook muttering something about Jimin’s unfamiliarity with humans and the risk of being discovered, but Seokjin’s calm, easy going demeanor remains unshaken, a quiet reassurance that everything will be alright.

As you swim away together, you take in the vibrant world around you, feeling a profound sense of peace and belonging in the depths of the sea. The worries of the surface world seem distant and insignificant here, where every moment is filled with wonder and the comforting embrace of the ocean.

You glide alongside Seokjin back to your cove, a sprawling underwater city that rises like a dream from the ocean floor. Tall, castle-like buildings with turrets and spires reach toward the surface, their walls adorned with coral and sea glass, reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of colors. It’s a place out of a fairytale, a sanctuary where you feel truly at home. You smile and wave to your mermaid friends as they swim by, their envious glances not lost on you. Many merfolk admire your relationship with Seokjin, a merman whose heart is as kind as his looks are striking, and their gazes only bolster your confidence.

As you weave through the swaying kelp towards the cave you call home, red crabs scuttle along the sandy bottom, and the ocean hums with life all around you. Here, in this enchanted realm beneath the waves, you find your true north, your place of peace, and your heart’s deepest joy.

Suddenly, your vision fades to black, and a cascade of unfamiliar images flashes before your eyes, like a distant memory surfacing from the depths of your mind.

You feel the grainy texture of sand between your toes—a sensation both alien and intimate. Toes, an unfamiliar part of you, sink into the soft, white sand as you sit, letting it slip through your fingers like a whisper of time. The sea’s foam caresses your feet, a delicate tickle that brings a smile to your lips as you gaze out at the endless expanse of water. It’s always been beautiful, this vast ocean, a constant in your life, and it always will be. You look back at the shore, where your friends wave and smile, their faces warm and inviting, yet somehow distant.

Then, just as suddenly, the vision dissipates, and the familiar contours of your shared cave snap back into focus. Seokjin’s worried gaze meets yours, his eyes searching your face for answers.

“Are you okay, babe?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You blink, disoriented, as if waking from a dream that clings to the edges of your consciousness. “Huh?” you murmur, glancing around the cave, feeling a strange, unsettling disquiet. What had you been seeing just moments before?

“Your gaze felt so empty, like your thoughts were far away,” he explains, his brow furrowing with worry. You shake your head, the images slipping from your grasp like water through your fingers, leaving only confusion in their wake.

“I don’t know what happened, but let’s just head home,” you say, squeezing his hand, seeking comfort in the familiar warmth of his touch. You lead him into the cave, the soothing embrace of your shared space grounding you as you try to shake off the lingering disorientation.

That night, cradled in his arms, you toss and turn, haunted by those enigmatic visions. Your mind conjures images that feel like echoes from another life, flickering in and out of focus like a distant star. In your dream...

You walk along a shoreline, the waves gently lapping at your bare feet, each step a curious mix of exhilaration and strangeness. The sensation of solid earth beneath you is foreign, yet thrilling, akin to the freedom of soaring through water as your feet carry you across the warm sand. The scene shifts abruptly, and you find yourself in a bustling café, the sounds around you muffled as if you were underwater, though you clearly aren’t. You sit at a table with women whose faces are familiar, echoing the earlier vision of the beach. They giggle and smile, their words a blur, and you nod along, smiling in return. Your hand curls around a glass of light brown liquid, the ice clinking softly—a scene both alien and intimately familiar.

You wake with a start, your heart pounding, the remnants of the dream still clinging to you like mist.

Where are you? What was that dream?

You remember the sensation of having feet—of walking, of being human.

“Honey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Seokjin’s voice is soft with concern, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a frown that tugs at your heart. You force a smile to dispel his worry. “I just had a weird dream, that’s all.”

Because that’s all it was, right? Just a strange dream.

Determined to shake off the unsettling images, you begin your day with a light breakfast, trying to push the dream from your mind. Soon after, you swim out to meet Namjoon, who has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. You had promised to join him on his latest treasure hunt, a quest for crystals, gems, or forgotten relics from the world above. He’s spoken about this adventure countless times, his excitement infectious, and you finally relented, agreeing to accompany him on one of his explorations. As you swim toward him, Namjoon greets you with a soft smile, the anticipation of the day’s quest lighting up his eyes.

“Hi, ___! Ready for our adventure?” Namjoon’s voice bursts with excitement, his smile as radiant as a child’s on Christmas morning. His baby blue tail flicks with uncontainable energy, the scales catching the light in a playful shimmer.

“Yeah!” you exclaim, matching his enthusiasm as you adjust the crossbody bag slung over your shoulder, prepared to gather whatever treasures the ocean offers.

“Cool, let’s swim,” he says, his voice bubbling with eagerness as he takes the lead, propelling himself forward with powerful strokes. The ocean around you is calm, the water clear and inviting, and as you set off together, you can almost convince yourself that the dream was nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

You swim for what feels like ages, the cool water rushing past you, each movement a blend of grace and strength. As fatigue begins to tug at your muscles, a glimmer of blue catches your eye in the distance. Your heart leaps, anticipation coursing through your veins—finally, you’ve reached your destination. Namjoon’s excitement is almost tangible as he urges you forward, his energy sparking through the water like an electric current.

The sand beneath you is a pale beige, contrasting sharply with the vibrant blue crystals embedded in the rocky surface ahead. It’s breathtaking, a hidden gem in the vast underwater world that you call home. A few curious fish dart by, their scales catching the light as they weave through the water, but otherwise, a profound silence envelops the scene, amplifying its beauty.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper as you take in the mesmerizing sight. You’ve never seen anything like it before, and the wonder of it leaves you momentarily speechless.

“It’s aquamarine,” Namjoon says, his voice filled with awe as he swims closer to the crystals, inspecting them with a reverence reserved for only the most precious discoveries.

You nod, transfixed by the shimmering blue gems. Who would have guessed that your home held such secret wonders, hidden in the depths of the ocean, waiting to be found?

“I want to collect one, just give me a moment,” Namjoon says, his tone both excited and focused as he drops his bag of tools onto the ocean floor, sending up a small cloud of sand. The bag, a cherished relic from one of his many adventures, is always with him. He carefully extracts a few tools, his movements precise and deliberate, as he begins to carve out a chunk of crystal. You watch him work, captivated by the skill and care with which he handles the gem. Once he’s collected a piece for himself, he turns to you, his expression softening as he offers you a small piece of aquamarine.

You accept the crystal, turning it over in your hand. The gem catches the light, reflecting the deep, mysterious blues of the sea. In that moment, it feels like you’re holding a piece of your world’s essence, a tangible reminder of home.

But then, as if pulled by an unseen force, your reality shifts.

A sudden rumble of thunder jolts you, and the serene underwater scene dissolves around you. Everything sways, and you find yourself on a boat—or perhaps a yacht—gripping the railing with one hand, a glass of crimson liquid in the other. The sky above is dark and foreboding, thick clouds churning with the promise of a storm. Laughter, eerie and out of place, mingles with the sound of thunder, creating a haunting symphony that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Earth to ___!” Namjoon’s voice breaks through the vision, snapping you back to the present. He waves his hands in front of your face, concern etched across his features. Panic surges through you—these aren’t just dreams. They feel tangible, like fragments of another life bleeding into your own. A life that isn’t yours, yet feels disturbingly familiar. You’re a mermaid, never human—or at least, that’s what you’ve always believed. It’s said that mermaids can transform, but you’ve never set foot on land. These visions, these memories, feel foreign, like echoes from another existence intruding on your mind.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I don’t know what happened,” you stammer, your voice shaky as you try to push away the unsettling experience. He gives you a thoughtful, worried look, his brow furrowed in concern, but then he smiles gently, his fingers curling around yours as he leads you away, guiding you back towards the comfort and familiarity of home.

As you glide through the water, the aquamarine crystal clasped tightly in your hand, the mysteries of your visions swirl in your thoughts like the endless, spiraling currents of the sea. The deep blue around you pulses with a rhythm all its own, yet your mind is elsewhere, drifting through the shadows of these strange, inexplicable memories that seem to tug at the edges of your consciousness.

Back home, you find Seokjin engrossed in his work, as usual, his focus intense as he prepares materials for his students. He’s a revered teacher, imparting the ancient history of your underwater world to the young merfolk with a passion that’s impossible to ignore. You watch him with quiet admiration, knowing how much he loves sharing tales of the past—stories of how Hoseok’s ancestors founded your vast cove, battling fearsome sea creatures to carve out this sanctuary beneath the waves. Hoseok’s lineage runs deep, their legacy woven into the very fabric of your community, making him something akin to royalty in these waters. Seokjin often speaks of how your city has remained hidden from human eyes for centuries, a secret world cloaked in the ocean’s depths. Yet, in recent times, curiosity about the surface has begun to stir among the younger merfolk, despite the elders’ stern warnings about the dangers of being discovered by humans. Though Seokjin shares these stories with a sense of wonder, you’ve never felt the urge to experience life on land yourself. The sea is your home, your heart tethered to its depths.

“Did you have a good trip with Namjoon?” Seokjin asks, glancing up from the worn pages of a book adorned with ancient symbols. His smile is warm, his presence a steady anchor in the shifting tides of your thoughts.

“Yeah, he gave me a piece of aquamarine. Wanna see?” you reply, pulling the small, shimmering crystal from your bag when he nods. He takes it from you, his eyes reflecting the gemstone’s beauty as he admires it.

“It’s as beautiful as you,” he murmurs, handing it back to you with a gentle smile. You place it beside your nest on the rocky nightstand, the crystal catching the light in a way that reminds you of the first moment you saw it.

The days that follow are peaceful, your visions leaving you in a rare state of calm. You fill your time with friends, letting the little mermaids braid your hair as you embark on new adventures. One day, you swim alongside Taehyung, his curiosity and eccentricity leading you to explore the ocean’s forgotten treasures—remnants of the world above that have found their way to the seabed. The sand is littered with seashells, gold coins, tarnished utensils, waterlogged books, and ancient jewelry. Taehyung, much like Namjoon with his stones—sorry, crystals—collects these artifacts with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a child, his love for these lost relics bringing a smile to your face as you join him in his explorations.

“Look! There’s a glass over here,” Taehyung calls out, his voice filled with the thrill of discovery. You swim over to him, your curiosity piqued, and inspect the object he holds in his hands. It’s a strange trinket, unlike anything you’ve seen before.

“Glass?” you murmur, the word feeling foreign and heavy on your tongue, as if it doesn’t quite belong in your world.

Taehyung shows you the glass—a large, round vessel with a slender stem that widens into a foot. It resembles a wine glass, and as you gaze at it, a wave of dizziness washes over you. Your vision fades to black.

When it returns, the sound of thunder fills your ears, loud and ominous. You’re no longer underwater but standing on the deck of a yacht, gripping the railing with one hand, the other clutching an almost empty wine glass. The crimson liquid sloshes with the rocking of the boat, staining the pristine glass with its rich hue. The sky above is a stormy canvas, dark and swirling, illuminated only by flashes of lightning that slice through the darkness. A blanket of rain soaks you to the bone, cold and relentless, while eerie laughter mingles with the crack of thunder, creating a symphony that sends chills down your spine.

Suddenly, a massive wave crashes against the yacht, and you lose your grip on the wine glass. It shatters on the deck, the pieces scattering like shards of a broken memory. Another wave strikes, and you’re thrown off balance. You tumble over the side of the yacht, plunging into the churning sea. The waves are merciless, slamming you against the hull, and your head collides with a sickening thud. Your body goes limp, and you begin to sink into the depths, the water filling your lungs as you struggle to breathe. Everything goes dark, the weight of the ocean pressing down on you, dragging you deeper, deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Your eyes snap open, your body trembling, cold sweat slicking your skin. Taehyung stares at you, his expression puzzled and concerned. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice tentative, as if afraid to break the fragile silence that hangs between you.

You nod, biting your lip, though deep down, you know you’re far from okay. What you saw felt so vividly real—falling into the ocean, legs thrashing as a human. These visions must be memories, but memories of what time, what life?

As you reflect, a disturbing realization grips you: you don’t remember anything from before meeting Seokjin. There’s nothing—just a blank void where your past should be. Could these really be your memories? From a life before... before Seokjin?

A shiver runs through you, the chill of dread seeping into your bones. It doesn’t make sense, this absence of a past. Where were you born? Is ___ even your true name? Who are you, really?

These questions swirl in your mind like a storm, dark and turbulent, as unsettling as the depths you plunged into in your vision. You can feel your thoughts unraveling, each thread pulling at the fabric of your reality. Yet, Taehyung, oblivious to your inner turmoil, continues his treasure hunt with the same innocent enthusiasm. You try to hide your growing fear, but your body betrays you with tremors. Perhaps you should confide in Seokjin about these dreams—no, these memories. He’s so knowledgeable about history, about magic; maybe there’s something he can do. The thought of sharing your burden with him is both comforting and terrifying. You feel fragile, like a piece of glass teetering on the edge, a single crack away from shattering into countless, irreparable fragments.

Despite the weight pressing down on you, you help Taehyung search for more treasures, turning over every leaf of kelp, every rocky surface. He fills his bag to the brim with relics from the world above, while you swim beside him, a knot of unease tightening in your stomach. The strange feeling lingers as you reach home, and Seokjin’s eyes find yours, instantly recognizing that something is wrong.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks, his grip on your arms firm, his gaze searching yours, desperate for an answer to the sadness clouding your features.

You let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, unable to meet his eyes.

“Didn’t you have a good time with Taehyung on your treasure hunt?” he inquires, his concern deepening when you shake your head.

“No, the treasure hunt was fine. It’s…” you begin, fumbling with the words, struggling to find a way to explain the unexplainable. But you have to try—maybe he can help. “I’ve been having these weird visions,” you pause, your voice trembling as you swim nervously from side to side, “or memories, I think.”

His expression shifts from curiosity to worry, his handsome face now eerily blank as he listens.

“What kind of memories?” he asks, his voice cautious, as if afraid of what you might say.

“Of me. As a human. With legs. Living on land,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, hoping against hope that he might understand, that he might have some insight into why you’re experiencing these memories—how to make them go away before they consume you entirely.

He says nothing, his silence a heavy weight between you, and his frown deepens, a storm gathering in his eyes. Your heart sinks, dragging your hope down with it.

“Are these my memories?” you ask, your voice small, trembling as you finally give voice to the fear that has haunted you for days. You hold your breath, waiting for his response, dreading the answer.

But he avoids your gaze, his silence more damning than any words could be. Your heart plummets, sinking into the depths of despair. Does he have something to do with this? What is he hiding from you? What truth is he keeping locked away, and why does it feel like your world is about to unravel completely?

Seokjin descends into the deep, where the ocean’s embrace is tight and unyielding, and where the light above is little more than a distant memory. He loves it here, in the silent, shadowy depths where the world feels vast and endless, yet intimately close. Today, however, his journey is not for himself. Taehyung, bedridden with the flu, has entrusted him with a mission—to find treasures, the peculiar remnants of human life that have sunken to the ocean’s floor. Usually, Taehyung would be at his side, his eyes alight with curiosity, but today, Seokjin searches alone, determined to bring back something special for his friend.

The sandy bottom stretches out beneath him, vast and barren, as he scours it for any sign of something unusual. His hands sift through the grains, but he finds nothing of interest, just the familiar whisper of the ocean around him. Then, a muffled ripple from above disrupts the stillness, and he pauses, his attention caught. He glances upward, but the water is thick, his depth too great to see the sun or the sky. The darkness is all-consuming, but there’s a strange energy in the water—a tremor, a subtle shift.

He feels it before he sees it, the electric charge pulsing through the sea as the surface above transforms into a chaotic dance of white and yellow. Lightning forks across the sky, and thunder reverberates through the waves, a distant echo that reaches even these shadowy depths. His heart quickens as he senses a looming presence overhead—a large boat, struggling against the storm’s fury. Curiosity tugs at him, urging him closer to the surface, to that fragile boundary between his world and the one above.

But then, a sudden splash shatters the rhythm of the waves, drawing his gaze. Seokjin doesn’t need to see to know something is wrong—he feels it, deep in his core. He propels himself upward, slicing through the water with powerful strokes, and as he nears the surface, the scene unfolds before him.

There you are—a human—falling helplessly into the ocean, bubbles streaming from your lips as you instinctively gasp for air, only to inhale the saltwater instead. Your eyes flutter shut as your head collides with the boat’s hull, and then your body begins its slow descent into the abyss, like a fragile leaf caught in the current.

For a heartbeat, Seokjin is frozen, torn between the instinct to remain hidden and the overwhelming urge to save you. But he knows he cannot let a life slip away, human or not. With a surge of determination, he rockets toward you, his tail propelling him with swift, graceful power. You’re sinking fast, but he reaches you just in time, wrapping his arms around your limp form. His heart pounds with the hope that you’re merely unconscious, that life still flickers within you.

Panic flares as he realizes the enormity of the task ahead—he’s too far from shore to bring you to safety, and the thought of being discovered by the humans above sends a chill through him. The ocean, with its relentless pull, drags you both deeper with each passing second. He knows he must act, and quickly. There’s no time to waste. Every moment is a battle against the depths that threaten to claim you.

Without hesitation, Seokjin makes his decision. He turns and swims with all his might, his powerful tail driving him forward through the dark waters. His destination is clear—the Sea Witch, the only one who might possess the power to save you. His heart races as he speeds through the ocean, praying that you can hold on just a little longer.

The dark enclave comes into view, a place shrouded in mystery and foreboding. He enters the cave, the water around him thick with an eerie glow cast by bioluminescent algae that clings to the walls. Shadows dance in the dim light, flickering like spirits, and the silence is heavy, almost oppressive. Fish dart away at his approach, sensing the urgency in his movements.

There, in the heart of the cave, surrounded by shelves brimming with arcane artifacts and ancient relics, he finds her—the Sea Witch. Her long black curls float around her like a halo, moving with a life of their own. Her eyes, dark and unreadable, lock onto him as he approaches. Though she appears youthful, Seokjin knows that her ageless beauty is a mask, a testament to the powerful magic that courses through her veins.

“What brings you here, Seokjin?” she asks, her voice smooth and laced with knowing, as if she’s already aware of the answer. He realizes, with a start, that he’s never known her true name. But it doesn’t matter now.

Seokjin’s grip tightens around your lifeless form, and with desperation in his eyes, he speaks.

“I need your help,” he gasps, dragging your lifeless form before her. “I found this woman sinking into the sea. I can’t get her to shore in time... Can you save her? Turn her into a mermaid and give her life?” His voice trembles with a mix of urgency and fear, a tremor that reveals the depth of his desperation. Though he doesn’t know you, the thought of your life slipping away fills him with an unnameable dread.

The Sea Witch’s eyes flicker with interest, her gaze sharp and calculating. “Such a request comes with a price,” she murmurs, her voice as soft and dark as the water that surrounds them. Her fingers move to tame her wild hair, but it’s a futile gesture amidst the swirling chaos of her lair, where shadows and light dance in an eerie ballet.

“Anything,” he pleads, his desperation mounting as he feels the fragile thread of your life fraying in his arms. “Just save her.”

The Sea Witch’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “You won’t be able to turn into a human except under the full moon,” she intones, her words echoing through the cavern like an ancient incantation. She waits, her eyes boring into him, before beginning the spell.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he nods and gently pushes you toward her, his hands trembling as he releases you. “It’s fine. Just help her, please.” The price she asks seems insignificant—he rarely ventures onto land, and what are legs compared to a life? Your life, he believes, is worth far more than the ability to walk on two feet.

The Sea Witch begins her incantation, her voice weaving through the water like a thread of silk. As the ancient words spill from her lips, your body begins to glow, the dull pallor of death replaced by a shimmer that pulses with life. Shimmers and sparkles envelop you, swirling like stars caught in a tide, as your legs begin to meld together, forming a sleek, purple tail. The transformation is breathtaking—the skin of your legs morphs into iridescent scales, each one catching the faint light and reflecting it in a myriad of colors. Your clothing shifts, dissolving into the water and reappearing as a seashell bra that perfectly matches the hue of your new tail. Suspended in the water, you look ethereal, like a creature born from the ocean’s deepest dreams.

Then, with a sudden jolt, your eyes flutter open, wide and filled with fear. Panic seizes you, and you curl into yourself, your new tail thrashing in the water as you try to make sense of the world around you.

“Where am I?” you ask, your voice trembling, the sound echoing softly through the cavern. Your eyes dart around, wide with terror and confusion.

Seokjin moves closer, his heart aching at the sight of your distress. He takes your hand in his, the touch meant to ground you, to offer some semblance of comfort in the midst of your fear. “It’s okay, ___,” he soothes, his voice gentle, his expression warm and reassuring. He doesn’t know your real name, but he calls you by the first name that springs to mind, one that seems to fit the beauty and fragility he sees before him. “You’re safe.”

He offers you a smile, a gesture meant to calm the storm raging inside you, and begins to weave a story—a tale of separation during a treasure hunt, a simple explanation that he hopes will ease your fear. Though your eyes remain clouded with uncertainty, you slowly nod, clinging to his words as though they are a lifeline.

But as you accept his story, a pang of guilt lodges itself deep within Seokjin’s heart. He knows the truth—knows that he’s withheld it from you. Yet, seeing the terror in your eyes, he cannot bring himself to reveal everything, not now, not when you’re so fragile. Perhaps, he tells himself, you will never need to know what really happened. Perhaps, in time, this story will become your truth. And for now, all that matters is that you are alive and safe, held gently in the arms of the ocean, where your new life has just begun.

Listening to Seokjin’s tale of your transformation, how you were once human and are now a mermaid, feels like the world is crumbling beneath you. Doubt and mistrust swirl in your mind like a gathering storm, obscuring everything you thought you knew. What is real anymore? Who are you? Despite the shimmering purple tail that now defines your existence, a gnawing certainty lingers—you once walked on land, breathed the air of the earth, and had friends who must surely be missing you. But why haven’t they searched for you? How long have you been living underwater, unaware of the life you lost? The questions twist within you, each one more agonizing than the last, yet you dare not ask Seokjin, for the trust you once had in him lies shattered at your feet.

Seokjin’s expression is a canvas of regret, yet he remains silent, offering no apology, no explanation. Anger and sorrow churn within you, a tumultuous sea that threatens to drown you. He deceived you, and the visions that have haunted you are not mere dreams but fragments of your stolen past. A wave of nausea rises within you as the weight of this realization crashes down, leaving you feeling displaced, as if you don’t belong in the ocean’s depths. This isn’t your home. You are human, and your heart aches for the life that was unjustly taken from you.

You don’t want to look at him—yet you do, because it suddenly hits you that this might be the last time you ever see him. You take in every detail, committing his features to memory: the sharp angle of his jaw, the curve of his nose—slightly upturned, the beautiful hazel eyes that shimmer with a mix of love and regret. Sadness tugs at your heartstrings, but the thought of his lies and the human life he stole from you reignites your anger. Your gaze traces the sharp line of his eyebrows, the tousled chestnut hair, down to the broad shoulders that taper into a strong chest and a narrow waist, where the scales of his tail begin. The tail shimmers in shades of pink, adorned with light fins at the back, and across his torso, the waist necklace of seashells and pearls—your gift, collected during treasure hunts with your friends—now seems like a mockery. Anger and love coil within you, a tangled mess of emotions, until you can no longer bear to look at him. You simply can’t.

Determined, you grit your teeth, tension rippling through your entire being. Seokjin reaches out, but you back away, your voice sharp and broken as you command, “Don’t follow me!” With that, you turn and swim away, heart pounding, the weight of his betrayal pressing heavily on your chest.

Desperate for answers, you head toward the Sea Witch—the one who played a role in your transformation. Her cave looms ahead, dark and foreboding, the water turning icy as you approach. She lounges on a rocky surface draped with plush kelp, her eyes cold and knowing as they settle on you.

“How can I help you, darling?” she asks, her voice smooth, her gaze piercing through your resolve.

“I want to turn back into my human form,” you declare, your voice steady, though your heart quivers. The Sea Witch nods, no questions asked, as she begins muttering an incantation. Her words wrap around you like a spellbinding current. She tells you that once you reach the shore, you will revert to your human self, but warns that contact with seawater will not return you to a mermaid, as you were not born of the sea. You accept this truth, ready to leave behind the deception that has kept you bound to the ocean.

With a newfound resolve, you swim toward the shore, the water parting before you as if understanding your need to escape. The ocean, once a place of wonder and discovery, now feels like a prison of lies. You are determined to find the truth, to reclaim the life you were meant to live, to breathe the air of the world you were born into. As the sunlight pierces the water’s surface, you push forward, breaking free from the ocean’s hold, ready to embrace your humanity once more.

With a splash, you break through the surface of the water, swimming toward the shore that shimmers on the horizon like a distant dream. You hope no one sees you, a fleeting shadow in the moonlit waves. The beach lies silent, empty, and welcoming as you drag yourself onto the sand, away from the saltwater’s embrace. A few heartbeats later, your scaly tail vanishes, replaced by human legs. You look down in wonder, wiggling your toes, the sensation oddly strange and yet familiar, as though awakening from a long-forgotten dream. A smile spreads across your face as the moon casts its silver light upon the water, a witness to your transformation.

Suddenly, the reality of your nudity dawns on you, and you glance around for something to cover yourself. Fortune favors you as your eyes catch sight of an abandoned towel, half-buried in the sand, which you quickly wrap around your body like a cloak of newfound modesty.

The grains of sand beneath your toes feel comforting, grounding you in a world that once seemed so far away. You take a few tentative steps, the motion awkward at first but gradually becoming more fluid, as though your muscles remember what your mind had forgotten. As you gaze over the shore, memories flood back in a rush: the thrill of sailing with friends under perfect skies, the sudden fury of a storm, the terror of falling into the sea. Faces of loved ones flash before you—your friends, the loss of your parents when you were still so young, the aching loneliness of being an only child. Your heart sinks under the weight of these memories, leaving you hollow, a stranger in a world you once called home. Do your friends even remember you? How much time has slipped away in your absence?

Your feet, as if guided by some hidden instinct, carry you along what you assume is a familiar path to one of your friends’ places. The city at night envelops you in its quiet hum, and though you’re wrapped only in a towel, you push on, ignoring the leering glances of drunk passersby who whistle as you hurry past. Your heart pounds in your chest, a drumbeat of nerves and determination, until at last, you find yourself standing before a tall apartment building that tugs at the strings of your memory. You walk inside, the glass doors parting like a portal to your past, and head straight to the elevator. For a moment, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the buttons as doubt creeps in. But then, almost of its own accord, your hand presses the number seven. The doors close, sealing you in, and the elevator ascends, carrying you toward the unknown.

When the doors open, you step into the dimly lit hall, each step echoing in the stillness as you approach a door that feels like the right one. You raise your hand to knock, aware that it’s the middle of the night and you might be waking someone who believes you are long gone.

A few soft knocks, and the door creaks open to reveal a tired, sleepy face, one that instantly brings a rush of warmth to your heart—it’s Soohee, your brain whispers.

“___?” she breathes, disbelief thick in her voice.

Your name— you remember it now, and it strikes you as a beautiful twist of fate that Seokjin, without knowing, bestowed upon you your true human name.

“What are you doing here? How are you alive?” she asks, her eyes wide with shock as the door remains slightly ajar, her mind struggling to reconcile your presence with the reality she knows. You just smile, the kind of smile that holds the weight of untold stories, and nod.

“You’ve been gone for two years,” she continues, her voice breaking as she reaches for you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “This is unbelievable. I thought you were dead. I missed you so much.”

You cling to her, the warmth of her arms anchoring you to this world, to the life you were meant to live. The ocean’s secrets may linger, but here, in this moment, you are home.

You let her envelop you in a hug, her familiar scent triggering a flood of memories that rush back with bittersweet clarity. “Come in,” she whispers, her voice tinged with relief, as she gently guides you inside and closes the door behind you, sealing the outside world away. Without a word about your strange attire, she hands you some of her clothes, the softness of the fabric a small comfort, and gently nudges you toward the bathroom to change. Emerging in a baggy shirt and pajama pants that hang loosely on your frame, you find the couch already made up for you, the blankets tucked in as if to cradle your weary body. Sleep should come easily, but it evades you, slipping through your grasp as your mind races, caught between the tangled threads of your human past and mermaid present. Memories of Seokjin and your life beneath the waves tug at your heart, while the bitter aftertaste of his deception lingers like a shadow. Rest remains an elusive dream.

Morning arrives with the pale light of dawn, revealing the dark circles beneath your eyes, evidence of the sleepless night you’ve endured. Soohee hands you a cup of coffee, her concern evident in the way her eyes search yours for answers you’re not yet ready to give. You sit together in the quiet morning, the warmth of the cup a small solace in your hands, as she begins to recount that fateful night. She explains how they didn’t notice you fall over the railing, their laughter and drunken fun drowning out any sound of your descent. Her hands fidget with the hem of her shirt as she speaks, her voice heavy with regret. They searched for you the next day, she says, but the sea offered no clues, and they eventually assumed you had drowned.

Her words fall like stones into the pit of your stomach, offering no comfort, only deepening the ache that has settled there. The knowledge that your friends didn’t do more, that they gave up so easily, weighs heavily on you, pulling you further into the depths of despair. The fragility of your friendship, how quickly they assumed the worst and moved on, leaves you feeling more isolated than ever, a stranger in the life you once knew.

You don’t tell Soohee the full story, offering only that you remember little and somehow washed up on shore. The truth of your mermaid life feels like a fragile thread, too delicate to share, a secret woven into the very fabric of your being that isn’t yours alone to unravel.

An invisible wall stands between you, a tension that hums in the air, hard to define but impossible to ignore. Despite the discomfort, you follow Soohee to a café to meet the rest of your friends. Everything feels slightly off, as if you’re playing a part in a play whose lines you’ve forgotten. There’s an emptiness that lingers in every smile, a sense of unfulfillment that shadows every conversation.

Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself making a temporary home in Soohee’s apartment. Most days, you’re left alone with your thoughts while she’s at work, the silence pressing in on you, heavy and suffocating. Memories of life beneath the ocean rise unbidden, surprising you with their vividness and intensity. You find yourself longing for the rhythm of the sea, the simplicity of underwater existence. And most of all, you miss Seokjin.

You wonder if he misses you too. If he had apologized, would you have fled so quickly? Maybe. The betrayal had felt like a tidal wave, overwhelming and inescapable. But now, in the calm that follows the storm, those feelings have receded, leaving behind a deep, persistent sadness. You realize, with a pang, that you might have overreacted. Seokjin had saved your life, after all. In your anger, you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge that fact.

A sigh escapes your lips as you sit alone in the stillness of the apartment, the quiet wrapping around you like a heavy cloak. Your thoughts are a whirlpool, pulling you deeper into longing and regret. If only you could see him again, to tell him you’re sorry, to let him know how grateful you are. He saved you, pulled you from the brink of death, and in your anger, you hadn’t allowed him to explain, hadn’t given him the chance to speak.

You miss the comfort of his presence, the reassurance in his eyes that could calm even the fiercest storm. With each passing day, the longing to return to the sea, to him, grows stronger, an ache that gnaws at your very soul. The human world, once your home, now feels foreign and hollow, lacking the vibrancy and depth of the ocean’s embrace.

It saddens you deeply to know you can’t simply walk into the sea and transform back into a mermaid, to leave behind the confusion and reclaim the life that felt more real than anything on land. Life here isn’t what you remember; perhaps it’s because you’ve tasted something far richer beneath the waves. The underwater world was more than just a place—it was a tapestry woven with love, adventure, and the sense of belonging you had never known before. There, you had a family, friends who were like kin. Here, among old acquaintances, you feel like an imposter, a shadow of the person you once were. The friendships you once cherished now seem distant and strained, as if you’re playing a role in a story that no longer fits.

Confined mostly to the apartment, the walls closing in on you, you decide one warm summer day to seek solace at the beach, hoping the sea might offer some answers. The sun blazes in the azure sky, and the water sparkles like a thousand tiny diamonds, beckoning you. As you settle into the warm sand, tears prick at your eyes, blurring the horizon. Your thoughts drift like the tide, pulled between the world above and the world below.

Who are you, truly? A human by birth, yet your heart beats for the sea. You long to breathe its salty depths, to feel the cool caress of the water as you swim alongside Seokjin, to embark on treasure hunts with your oceanic friends. You miss them with an intensity that surprises you, a longing that feels more profound than anything you’ve ever known. The question of your true identity—human or mermaid—plagues you, an endless loop of uncertainty. Can you ever return to the life you’ve lost? The fear that you might never know gnaws at you, an unspoken dread that settles in your chest.

Existential questions swirl in your mind, a tempest of doubt and longing that refuses to quiet. The ache in your head intensifies, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within, the push and pull of two worlds tearing at you.

You sigh, tracing whimsical patterns in the sand with your fingertips, the soft grains a fleeting distraction from the storm inside. Memories of Seokjin flood your mind—his warmth, his kindness, the way his laughter wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. You recall the moment you fell in love with him, the spark that ignited when your eyes first met, a connection that felt ancient and unbreakable. Even when your own name was a mystery, when you were adrift in the haze of lost memories, Seokjin was your anchor, a beacon of safety and love. Now, that connection is a gaping void in your heart, an emptiness that no human life can fill.

Perhaps it was destiny that led you to fall into the sea that night, a twist of fate that drew you to the world where you truly belonged. Maybe you were always meant to be a mermaid, to be with Seokjin. The thought brings a fleeting comfort, like a whisper on the wind, before dissolving into another sigh. The questions remain, offering no solace, only more uncertainty.

Resolutely, you rise, brushing the sand from your hands, the sun’s warmth a faint echo of the warmth you crave. You head back to the apartment, each step heavy with the weight of indecision. As you step inside, the familiar pang of emptiness hits you—it doesn’t feel like home. It never will. Seokjin was your home, and without him, you’re adrift, caught between two worlds and belonging to neither.

Soohee, determined to lift the shadows from your heart, insists on pulling you from the apartment where you’ve been brooding for what feels like an eternity. Reluctantly, you find yourself at your usual café, bathed in the silver glow of a full moon that hangs heavy in the night sky. Your friends chatter and laugh, their joy a distant melody, muffled as if trapped behind a glass wall that you can’t seem to break through. You sip your iced coffee mechanically, the cold seeping through the cup but not reaching the numbness that has settled in your soul.

Your gaze drifts out the window, unfocused, lost in a world of longing that only you can see. The sea calls to you, its siren song winding through your thoughts like a ribbon of silver and salt. The ache in your chest is almost unbearable—the yearning for the water, for the life you abandoned, for Seokjin, pulls at you with a force that’s impossible to ignore.

Suddenly, the lively chatter at your table falters, falling into an unexpected hush, but you remain adrift in your thoughts, lost in the waves of your mind. The voices around you blur into the background, until one breaks through, familiar and stirring, sending a shiver down your spine. That voice—smooth, warm, and unmistakably his—pulls you from your reverie.

You turn, and there he stands, Seokjin, his smile as bright and soft as the moonlight. He has legs now, and though he looks good like this, your heart aches for the mermaid form you fell in love with beneath the waves.

“Hi, babe,” he breathes, his voice thick with longing and the weight of everything left unsaid. Your heart swells at the sight of him, and you can feel the warmth of a blush creeping into your cheeks. “Hi, Jinnie,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, but laced with all the affection you’ve kept locked away.

Your friends exchange puzzled glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the air thick with something extraordinary and inexplicable. You offer them a quick explanation, telling them that Seokjin is your boyfriend, though the truth is far more complex than any simple label could capture. Ignoring their confusion, you rise from your seat, your heart pounding as you cross the room to Seokjin, wrapping him in a tight embrace. The moment your head nestles into the crook of his neck, a profound sense of home washes over you, as if the pieces of your heart are finally falling back into place.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his hands gentle as they hold yours, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin, trying to mend the fractures he fears he’s caused.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, though your voice trembles with emotion. “Do you want to go back to my place and talk?” The words hang between you, fragile and full of hope.

When he nods, the relief that floods through you is overwhelming. You say goodbye to your friends with a wave, their bewildered faces fading into the background as you step out into the night, hand in hand with Seokjin, heading back to the apartment you share with Soohee.

The streets are quiet, the full moon casting a soft glow on the path before you. Seokjin’s hand steadies you, anchoring you as you walk through the dimly lit streets, each step bringing you closer to the conversation that will decide your fate. You don’t speak, save your words for when you can give him your full attention, when the night and the moon are the only witnesses to your truths.

It takes only five minutes to reach the apartment building, but each second feels both fleeting and eternal. Inside, the familiar ding of the elevator announces its arrival, and as the doors close around you, your eyes meet his, the silence between you pregnant with unspoken emotions. In that shared look, regret and longing intertwine, a silent apology passes between you.

As the elevator dings again, signaling your arrival on the seventh floor, you offer him a soft smile, your heart heavy with what’s to come. Leading him to the door, you unlock it, and as you step inside, you know that whatever happens next, this moment—this reunion—will be etched into your soul forever.

Both of you step inside, the weight of unspoken words thick in the air. Without exchanging a glance, you move to the kitchen, your movements slow, deliberate. You pour cold water into glasses, the sound of liquid filling the silence that stretches between you. Placing the glasses on the table, you join Seokjin on the couch. His eyes follow you, brimming with emotions that mirror your own—uncertainty, regret, and a longing for the connection that feels so fragile now.

For a few moments, you’re both adrift in the quiet, your mind scrambling to find the right words, the perfect way to express your remorse. But before you can speak, Seokjin breaks the silence with a sigh, his breath shaky, followed by a soft, almost self-deprecating chuckle. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with sorrow.

A lump forms in your throat, and you nod, biting your lip as you fight back the tears threatening to spill. His eyes, usually so bright and full of warmth, now shimmer with regret. “I should have told you the truth,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “About your accident, about the fact that you were human... I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

His words cut through the tension, making your heart clench painfully. Instinctively, your hands reach out for his, seeking the reassurance and love that have always been your anchor. “I forgive you, Seokjin,” you breathe, your voice soft but steady, a tentative smile touching your lips as you rub gentle circles into his hands. “But I need to apologize too. I overreacted when I found out, and I’m sorry for that. I know you didn’t lie, but you did keep things from me. It was wrong, but… I understand why you did it.” You pause, truly grasping the weight of his decisions. “If I were in your position, I don’t know if I would have told everything right away either. I still wish you’d told me sooner,” you add with a dramatic sigh, a hint of playfulness creeping into your tone, “but it’s okay. I just want to move past this. I’ve missed you so much.”

Seokjin squeezes your hands, the gesture full of warmth and relief, bringing a genuine smile to your face. “I’m glad to hear that,” he exhales, as if he’s been holding his breath for an eternity. “I’ve missed you too. That’s why I came back. I needed to tell you that.”

He begins to rise from the couch, and a flicker of confusion crosses your face as you feel the emptiness left by his absence. “What are you doing?” you ask, your voice tinged with worry as you reach out for him, not ready to let go.

“I was going to leave,” he says softly, noticing the sadness clouding your eyes. “I’ve said what I needed to.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you plead, your hand grasping his as if anchoring him in place. “I have more to say. Please, sit down.” He hesitates for a moment, then nods, settling back onto the couch, his gaze fixed on you, waiting.

“I also wanted to thank you,” you continue, your voice trembling slightly as you shift closer to him, your thigh brushing against his. “Thank you for saving me… for loving me. I miss you, Seokjin. I miss my friends, I miss being a mermaid, and I’m afraid I’ve messed everything up. I don’t feel like I belong on land. Everything feels wrong here.”

Tears well up in your eyes, the weight of your emotions finally too much to hold back. Seokjin notices immediately, his fingers tenderly brushing away the tears before they can fall. “It’s okay, love,” he whispers, his voice soothing, filled with the warmth you’ve missed so desperately.

His hand travels to the nape of your neck, gently pulling you into him, your face finding solace in the familiar crook of his neck. You close your eyes, inhaling the comforting scent of him, a mix of saltwater and something uniquely Seokjin. As you rest there, your heart begins to mend, the broken pieces slowly coming together in the safety of his embrace.

He pulls you away gently, just enough to gaze into your eyes. His brown irises shimmer with a depth of emotion, like pearls nestled in the heart of a clam, radiating a love so pure it sends a warm twinge through your entire body. He leans in, and his lips find yours, tentative at first, a delicate reunion after what feels like an eternity apart. The kiss, soft and tender, soon deepens, growing fiery and urgent as his tongue teases for entrance, a silent plea that you eagerly grant.

His hand stays firm at the nape of your neck, keeping you anchored to him, while his fingers weave into your hair, tugging gently. The sensation pulls a needy, strangled sound from your throat—a sound that might have embarrassed you if you weren’t so utterly consumed by the desire coursing through your veins. You’ve missed him desperately, and you want him just as fiercely—want him in this way, as humans, experiencing something entirely new for the both of you. It’s a new experience for both of you. Though you’ve had your share of intimate moments before becoming a mermaid, and Seokjin has spent ample time on land, you’ve never been together like this. The thought sends your heart racing, your body warming with anticipation.

You kiss him again, your hands flying to his face, cupping his cheeks as you sigh into his mouth, savoring the closeness. When you finally pull apart, both of you are panting for breath. “I want you, Jinnie,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of urgency and longing. Your fingers tug at the fabric of his shirt, your need palpable. “I want you like this, before you leave.”

There’s a desperation in your plea, a fear that this moment might slip away too quickly, leaving you aching with the uncertainty of when you might see him again. You sense his desire too, but the unspoken questions about the complexities of a human and merman relationship hover at the edge of your mind. Still, you push them aside, focusing on the one truth that matters now—you want him, here and now.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you silence him with another kiss, this one fervent, consuming. Whatever words he might have had are lost in the heat of the moment. Your hands move with a newfound urgency, pulling off his shirt in a swift motion. As it drops to the floor, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him, his chest strong and defined, reminiscent of his merman form, with broad shoulders that taper to a lean, narrow waist.

Your hands drift lower, unzipping his pants with a quick, determined motion. The bulge in his black boxers is unmistakable, and you stroke him through the fabric, drawing out needy sounds from deep within him that only spur your desire further. You lick your lips in anticipation, wondering what his dick looks like— if he’s thick, long? How he’ll feel, how he’ll fit.

Slipping your hands under the waistband, you grasp his cock, feeling it throb eagerly in your hand. A thrill runs through you at the sensation, the heat and the pulse of him. “Sit up so I can take these off you,” you murmur, your voice thick with desire as you tease the waistband. He complies without hesitation, lifting his hips to help you slide the garment off. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach, and your eyes widen in awe. He’s long, longer than anyone you’ve been with before, the reddened tip glistening with precum that makes your mouth water in anticipation.

You can’t wait to taste him, to feel him, to make this moment last as long as possible.

Your fingers wrap around his dick, feeling his heat, and the sound that escapes his lips—a desperate, trembling whine—sends a shiver of thrill through your entire being. That sound, so raw and vulnerable, makes you crave more, and you can’t help but tease him, pumping his cock slowly, savoring every reaction. His eyes flutter shut, his head tilting back as he succumbs to the pleasure you’re giving him, lost in the sensation.

Leaning in close, your breath hot against his flushed skin, you flick your tongue out, tasting the salty sweetness at the tip. His gasp is sharp, his hips bucking instinctively, and you revel in the power you hold in this moment. Each sound he makes is a symphony, a melody only the two of you can hear, each movement a testament to the electric connection that binds you together.

“Please,” he pants, his voice ragged and needy, “please give me more.”

The plea in his voice ignites a fire in you, and with a sultry glance, you let a bead of spit fall onto his cock, watching it glisten before lowering your mouth to take him in. You start slowly, your tongue tracing the intricate lines and ridges, teasing the sensitive head with gentle flicks. The salty bead of precum bursts on your tongue, fueling the desire burning in your core.

With deliberate slowness, you slide down, taking more of him into your mouth, knowing you can’t take all of him, but determined to give him as much as you can. Your hand wraps around the base, stroking in rhythm with the movement of your lips, your tongue swirling around him in a dance of pleasure. His moans fill the room, a chorus of need and desire, as you work him with practiced skill, sucking on him like a lollipop, hollowing your cheeks to create the perfect suction.

His hands cradle your cheeks, his touch gentle but insistent, and with a loud, wet pop, he pulls you off. His eyes, dark with lust, gaze down at you, his chest heaving. “You look so gorgeous like this,” he breathes, voice thick with longing, “but I really want to know how it feels to be inside you.”

A slow smile spreads across your face, matching the eagerness in his eyes. Together, you strip away the remaining barriers between you, clothes discarded in a careless heap on the floor. The air between you hums with anticipation, every touch, every glance charged with the hunger you both feel. He surprises you by gently pushing you down onto the couch, spreading your legs wide as he drinks in the sight of your glistening folds.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes lingering on you with adoration. “Let me taste you?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you nod, giving him permission. He wastes no time, his mouth descending on you with a hunger that makes your toes curl. His tongue moves with a skilled, silky precision, lapping at your folds, teasing your clit with just the right pressure. You moan his name, your fingers tangling in his chestnut hair, urging him to go deeper, to give you more.

His mouth is relentless, worshiping your body with every stroke, every lick, his own sounds of pleasure vibrating against your sensitive flesh. The sensations he’s creating make your body arch off the couch, your back bowing as the pleasure builds, spiraling higher and higher until it’s almost too much to bear.

His fingers find your nipples, pinching and rolling them in time with the rhythm of his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. And then, it happens—your body tenses, fingers clenching hard in his hair as you push yourself onto his face, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You ride the sensation, lost in the euphoria of release, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you come undone on his tongue.

He gazes up at you with boundless love, his eyes soft as he gives a few final, lingering licks, savoring every drop of you. When he finally moves up to kiss you, it’s deep and passionate, his body fitting perfectly between your legs. You can feel his hand, steady and sure, as he guides his throbbing cock, stroking it briefly before aligning it with your entrance. The anticipation makes your heart race, your body quivering with need as you wait for him to claim you, to make you his in every way.

“Are you ready?” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing hum as he brushes the tip of his cock against your slick folds.

“God, yes,” you breathe, your words barely a whisper as your body aches with need, your pussy practically pleading to be filled. The anticipation coils tight within you, every nerve alight with longing.

With a deliberate slowness, he begins to push into you, his dick stretching you inch by inch. The sensation is exquisite, a blend of pleasure and sweet ache that leaves you gasping. When he finally bottoms out, buried deep inside, it’s as if he touches the very core of you, the stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Move, please,” you grunt, the word coming out thick with desperation. You need more of him, all of him.

He responds to your plea, his hips beginning to roll with a steady rhythm, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through your body. The sound of his hips meeting yours fills the room, a steady beat that matches the pounding of your heart. You shift, hoisting your legs higher, draping them over his broad shoulders. The new angle has him sinking even deeper into you, hitting that spot that makes your breath hitch and your toes curl. The way he kisses your cervix is nothing short of divine, a sensation that borders on the sublime.

He pants your name, the sound rich with need, his hands framing your face as his brows knit together in a beautiful display of focus and desire. He dips down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, and you groan into his mouth, feeling the intensity of his love and the depth of your connection in every movement.

When he rises again, his hands find your thighs, gripping them as he picks up speed, each thrust more insistent, more desperate, as he chases the edge. You feel your own climax building, the tension winding tight in your belly, and your hand drifts down between your legs, finding your clit and rubbing in time with his thrusts. Your breaths come faster, matching the rhythm of his, and as your pussy begins to pulse around him, the pleasure crests, sweeping through you like a tidal wave. You cry out his name, nails digging into his biceps as you ride the peak, your body trembling with the force of your release.

“Fuck,” he pants, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “I’m close… I’m gonna come.”

“Do it,” you beg, your voice ragged with need. “Come inside me, fill me up, please.”

With a stuttering groan, he releases, his warmth spilling into you as his body shudders with the force of his orgasm. His hair sticks to his damp forehead, his skin glistening with sweat, but he leans down to kiss you, his lips tender and sweet. You welcome the salty taste of him, the heat of his body, wanting to hold onto every bit of him, to memorize this moment.

After a few heartbeats, he gently pulls out of you, the loss of his presence making you feel momentarily hollow. He disappears into the bathroom, returning with a soft towel. His touch is careful and loving as he cleans you, the warmth of the cloth a gentle caress against your sensitive skin. The sweetness of his care, the way he looks at you with such tenderness, makes your heart ache, and a lump forms in your throat.

A few tears slip free, unbidden, and Seokjin pauses, his eyes filled with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

You sniffle, trying to blink away the tears, but they keep coming. “I just… I miss you so much. This was incredible, but I don’t want you to go. I want to be with you every day. I wish I could be with you every day.”

The words break something loose inside you, and soon you’re crying in earnest, the sobs shaking your chest. Now you’re full-on crying. What a mess—crying after sex. You hope he doesn’t think he did anything wrong, because he truly didn’t.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly, pulling you close, your bodies still bare yet wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. The cool night air brushes against your skin, but it’s his touch that sends a shiver down your spine. His hand finds your chin, lifting it gently so your eyes meet his. The uncertainty of when you’ll see him next weighs heavy, your lips trembling with unspoken fears. But his gaze, soft and filled with love, reassures you.

“I wanted to tell you before,” he begins, his voice a tender caress, “you can become a mermaid again if you want. I just didn’t want to assume you’d want that.” His fingers trace your bottom lip, the touch like the brush of a feather, sending ripples of longing through you.

Become a mermaid again?

The words ignite a spark of hope in your chest, warming you from the inside out.

“Really?” you whisper, your eyes glimmering with tears of joy and love, the possibility almost too beautiful to grasp.

“Yeah,” he nods, his own eyes bright with promise. “We just need to talk to the Sea Witch.”

“Can we go now?” you ask, your heart soaring like a gull over the waves.

He laughs softly, the sound a balm to your anxious heart. “Sure. But shouldn’t you say goodbye to your friends?”

You shake your head, the decision firm and resolute. “I’ll just leave them a note.” You know it’s not the most gracious farewell, but you feel no guilt. They searched for you for barely a day when you went overboard, their concern fleeting, unlike the depth of love you feel for Seokjin.

Quickly, you dress, the mundane task filled with a sense of urgency, as if the moment might slip away if you don’t act fast. You find a piece of paper and scribble a brief note to Soohee, thanking her for her kindness and hospitality but explaining that you’re leaving to be with your boyfriend. You don’t mention anything about mermaids or the world beneath the sea; some things are too precious to share.

Hand in hand, you walk with Seokjin down to the beach, your heart beating vividly in your chest, each step a drumbeat of anticipation. Under the silvery light of the moon, you share a tender kiss, the world narrowing to just the two of you as you step into the water. The transformation is swift and mesmerizing—his legs give way to a stunning pink tail, shimmering like precious gemstones in the night.

You swim together, cutting through the water like you were born to it. Out in the open sea, far from the shore, he kisses you deeply, his lips salt-kissed and full of promise. “I’ll swim down and talk with the Sea Witch,” he whispers against your lips. “I’ll come back and tell you everything, okay?”

Time seems to stand still as you wait, the waves lapping gently around you, but it doesn’t feel long before his head breaks the surface again, a smile lighting up his face.

“She said she can turn you back permanently if you want to,” he says, the words like music to your ears, “but the catch is you’ll never be able to revert to your human form again.”

You see a flicker of concern in his eyes, but for you, it’s a small price to pay. Your human life feels distant, like a dream you’ve already forgotten. The call of the sea, the promise of the life you once knew, is too strong to resist. With a resolute nod, you kiss him, the decision clear in your heart. “Please, tell her it’s fine. I just want to be a mermaid again.”

He nods, diving back into the depths, and moments later, the transformation begins. Your legs fuse together, your skin tingles as it turns to scales, and the familiar purple tail forms, glimmering under the water. Your clothes morph into a delicate seashell bra, and you swirl around, reveling in the change. With a burst of speed, you dive deep, almost colliding with Seokjin. You both burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up like joy itself.

“Hey, pretty,” he says, cupping your face and kissing you, his touch as tender as the first time.

“Hey, handsome,” you reply, the love swelling within you, making you feel lighter than the water around you.

You kiss him again, a kiss full of joy, relief, and the overwhelming sense of being exactly where you’re meant to be. The sea, with its ancient structures, hidden caves, and vibrant marine life, feels like home once more. Seokjin holds you close, your tails entwining in an intimate embrace as you swim together, fingers lacing, bodies moving in perfect harmony.

In this underwater world, where the boundaries of the physical fade into the ethereal, your love transcends the ordinary, becoming something larger than life. Your heart floats, carried by the sea’s gentle current, pulling you ever closer to Seokjin. You open your eyes, meeting his hazel gaze, and in his smile, you see your entire world.

As you swirl around each other, the vibrant marine life fades into the background. Fish, other merfolk, dolphins, and whales pass by, their beauty paling in comparison to the magic of Seokjin’s embrace.

“I love you so much, Seokjin,” you whisper, your hands moving to rest over his bare chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“I love you so much too, babe,” he replies, his voice filled with emotion as he places his hand over your heart. With his other hand, he reveals a golden band with a shining pearl, its surface iridescent and familiar in the dim light. “Will you be mine forever?” he asks, his tone both tender and hopeful.

You smile, charmed by his romantic gesture. It’s the second time he’s proposed, understanding you lost the ring when you became human. The effort he put into finding it and presenting it to you again makes your heart swell with love.

“Of course,” you say, your voice filled with certainty. “I’ll be yours forever, and you’ll be mine.”

In that moment, you realize you need nothing else. With Seokjin by your side, true friends under the sea, and a supportive family, life is beautiful. You couldn’t ask for more. As you float in the embrace of the ocean, the vastness of the sea reflecting the endlessness of your love, you know you are home.

→ Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @suker4angst → Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still sometimes use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work (the banners)). → Author’s note(2): I feel so shitty with my writing (not that I think it’s bad, it’s just ‘meh’). I wrote this weeks ago, but I’m only publishing it now… I’m feeling very unmotivated, so this whole mermaid series might take some time to get finished, but I’ll try my best to finish them all 🥹 what do you think? Excited for the rest of the members’ stories? 💜

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moosha-mushroom · 2 months

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Media I imagine different fiction podcasts in instead of the media of being a podcast.

TMA: A selection of volumes, relating to the fears, each with those removable covers. Those covers has a victim or two, and then underneath the cover is a really detailed cover. The paper is decoratively ripped, with a kind of scraggly font, and each has a foreword and ‘author’s note’ from Jonathan Sims.

Malevolent: A really gritty graphic novel with deadly detail in each panel, and very little color. Maybe a trinket on each important character has a color? Like Arthur’s eyes being yellow or Oscar’s collar having a blue sheen to it. The novels are long, dramatic, and intimate in a visceral way.

Welcome to Night Vale: Local 58 bullshit. A broadcast on television with low quality images and audio, tacky music, and a kind of 80’s aesthetic. Each episode the words WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE zoom onto the screen, the purple eye behind them. And each weather segment is an animated short by a different artist.

The Penumbra(Juno Steel): A webcomic. Hours spent scrolling downward a comic that has so much color and GEOMETRIC design. Juno and his curvy jaw, brown pie slice eyes, a cartoonishly high collar for his investigator jacket. Nureyev and his sharp square jaw, shimmering jewelry, and stick legs. Characters sticking out of the panels, fonts changing constantly, a little blue Juno that does his narration and *guitar theme plays* each time he appears.

Wolf 359: A classic comic. Issues month by month. Different special covers of the characters in extra dramatic poses or scenes. Even MORE panel breaking than Juno Steel. So MUCH onomatopoeia, even for small things like the clink of a panel or the disapproving hiss of Hilbert in the background. Geometric designs like Juno Steel, but less colorful. Like the superhero art style mixed with a more stylized look.

Midnight Burger: You pull up the Midnight Burger website. They have a hidden page that has a sort of script-comic thing going on, where the art is next to the writing. Small coded in notes from Leif sometimes pop up if you hold your arrow over the art. Links are attached to the parts where Effie and Zebulon play music, linking you to the music so you can listen to it while you read.

Desert Skies: An animated show. Indie, something you’d find on YouTube. The animation is bouncy and incorporates 3D animation alongside the 2D. Maybe the Sphere Movers have 3D models and the staff don’t? The credits are short because it was made by one guy. People are complaining about it on Twitter /j. People are making content farms about it. Everyone is pissed at Corson like they’re pissed at Jax.

The Amelia Project: A sort of simulation video game. You play as Arthur. You listen to their stories and draw pieces of the tale to invent their death. Every once in a while the game transitions to a point and click suspense game where you solve puzzles as Cole and Haines. Maybe there should even be an Operation-esque part of it where you work as Kozlowski.

Ghost Wax: A novel with a lot of pictures spliced in it. The stories are all in a single book, though the book is through Luca’s perspective— so he picks up on the ghost’s body language and Voncid’s reactions. The pictures are tarot cards with each victim as a card. Some are repeat cards— Lorem does not have a card at the end of the story. Nor does Our Home or Evening at the Ardent. The pictures are only white with black line art. No color whatsoever.

Kakos Industries: A company newsletter. Not a broadcast. A newspaper that arrives at your door and has big bold letters with the main story and pictures of the events that happen in the story as it goes. And the Sunday Comic page is full of employee shenanigans. Some innocent… some not.

I am losing my mind.

#the magnus archives #malevolent #welcome to night vale #the penumbra podcast #wolf 359 #midnight burger #desert skies #the amelia project #ghost wax #kakos industries

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ladygrei · 1 month

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Mithril Lined

NOW WITH ART BY THE AMAZING @lorbalith!

Words count: 6,370

Rating: Explicit

He moved on to the jewelry. Something he felt unsettled by for one reason or another. He would not wear gold, and the bronze that he was so naturally drawn to was not enough for the statement he was trying to make. As he dug through the chest, a glittering silver chain caught his eye. He pulled it out and discovered that it was, in fact, not silver like he thought. It was an armband with dangling chains, the band itself set with a square-cut sapphire in the center. The metal that shone was identical in coloring and shimmer to his mithril vest. Glancing quickly back at the clothing he had set aside, he placed the piece behind him and continued searching for similar items. By the time he finished he had found a whole matching set of jewelry. A set of anklets that connected to one of his toes, an ear cuff that had several looping chains, four rings, the aforementioned armband, and a bracelet. Though the most surprising thing to him was the fact that every piece fit him perfectly. Something that he would ponder later, maybe at second breakfast, perhaps.

Placing what he was secretly calling his armor aside for the morning, he went to bed, hoping that tomorrow would not get him thrown out of the mountain.

The next morning came, and Bilbo woke still caught up in his thoughts. He knew Dis and Ori would be by as soon as the caravan arrived. With no small amount of trepidation, he got ready for this proverbial battle he was walking into. When the two dwarrow did arrive, Bilbo saw that they, too, had dressed for the occasion. Dis wore her hair and beard braided in a menagerie of twists and loops with silver clasps and chains dangling throughout. Her dress was blue with silver embellishments. Ori looked every bit the master scribe and potential advisor to royalty he was training to be. He wore a purple sash across the front of his scribal robes, and his hair was braided, though his beard was unadorned. Both stood stock-still when Bilbo bid them to enter his room. Ori looked as if he might cry and Dis looked like a cat that caught the canary.

“What? What is it?” Bilbo asked.

Ori gapped like a fish as Dis strode forward, pushing Bilbo into a chair. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Just sit here. Ori, please, do not say a word about protocol.” Dis commanded, pointing a motherly finger at the scribe with a small smile.

#bagginshield #thilbo #bilbo x thorin #the hobbit #thorin x bilbo

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thesummerestsolstice · 1 month

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Hair Headcanons for the rest of the Finweans:

Celebrimbor: Dark, raven-wing colored iridescent hair. Exactly like Feanor. Just like the rest of Celebrimbor. I'm sure he doesn't have any feelings about that.

Idril: Blonde hair with darker streaks near the roots. 10/10 for shimmer, looks like actual gold. Even Glorfindel is vaguely jealous. She particularly enjoys how sapphires look in it and often wears it in locs, like her father.

Maeglin: Dark hair, like Aredhel's; often seems to have streaks of a dark purple color. He usually wears his hair loose, which would be a safety hazard in the forge if not for the Finwean Hair Magic™️. He does very little in the way of hair care, but his hair still always looks perfect because of course it does.

Earendil: Originally had blonde hair similar to Idril's, but that's changed since he became a living star. Now, his hair looks almost like golden fire, flickering strangely even without wind, tapering off to white near the end, though his glowing hair has nothing on the radiance in his eyes, which is said to burn the unworthy– just like the Silmaril he wears as a crown.

Celebrian: Her hair is actually very similar to her mother's– the "silver" in her name refers to how it looks under the moon, but under the sun, it has a distinctly more golden hue. Is often seen with fireflies floating around her hair like a crown. (This may or may not be Elrond's doing)

Gil-Galad: No one can agree on what Gil's hair looks like. Some say it's as silver as mithril, flowing long and straight down his back. Others insist his hair was just like Fingon's– though maybe a bit darker. Other say he had Finrod's golden curls, or even Maedhros's red tresses. What they can all agree on is that Gil clearly had Finwean Hair Magic™️, and was therefore clearly a Finwean... even if they weren't sure exactly where he came from.

Elrond: Exists at the fascinating intersection of Finwean Hair Magic™️ and Melian's Maiarin magic. Normally, his hair actually looks a lot like Finwe's; dark with many colors of sparkly iridescence. But sometimes, on nights when the moon is full, or when thunder rumbles in the valley, it seems to have a mind of its own; more living shadow than hair. Many people have asked about this. Elrond has not provided anything resembling a proper explanation.

#silmarillion #silm headcanons #house of finwe #celebrimbor #idril #maeglin #earendil #celebrian #gil galad #elrond #elrond peredhel #eldritch peredhel #more hair headcanons!

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sevikasenby · 12 days

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three months. (ao3 link)

a/n: first fic for @sevikaweek and i thought i’d end the last day, the deal, with another ending <3

summary: sevika goes into hiding because of the war between piltover and the undercity and you and sevika make a deal, a promise even: 3 months. that was it. rating: explicit, MDNI wc: 2,983 warning for major character death, mentions of blood

AGELESS BLOGS, MINORS AND MEN DNI

“they won’t find where i’m going. hell, they hardy know where this place is anyways so-“

“yeah they don’t know where we are right now, so why can’t you just stay here, sev!?”

sevika stared at you. she opened her mouth to speak but closed it and let out a long, weary sigh and looked around. you were both stood in the living room because she had come to you with this while you were lounging on the couch.

she knew you were frustrated, hence why you had just snapped at her a bit, but she was to because you weren’t understanding. maybe you never would.

she looked at you with saddened eyes, “because you’re not a target, baby.” she lifted her hand to cup your cheek, letting you nuzzle into it. “if they find this place and they see you with me, they will either take you or kill you too and i cannot let that happen.”

the enforcers were after sevika, but mainly jinx, wanting them dead or alive, and anyone who could’ve been helping either of them, hiding them, etc because of the war between piltover and the undercity going on. they already got a couple people including some firelights, lock and even singed because of the shimmer distribution.

ran was actually the one helping jinx, letting her stay in their apartment since it was a bit like yours and sevika’s, off the enforcers radar and likely they wouldn’t be caught here. you had even questioned why sevika couldn’t go and stay with ran. she said it was because they were already hiding someone and she didn’t want to put them more at risk for helping.

sevika just didn’t want to chance anything. she wanted to leave to keep you safe, to go to an even more secluded area, one far back in the undercity in hopes the enforcers would be too scared to go back there.

“look,” sevika started when you looked away from her, thinking about what she said. “i’ll make a deal with you. give it three months. that’s it.”

“three months? for what?”

“in three months everything should be died down enough to where i can come back and be alright living here. probably will still keep low profile but it should be fine.”

“and if it’s not?” you placed your hand on top of hers where it still rested on your cheek.

“then i stay where i am and i will come back to you as soon as it is, i promise. until then, you stay here. ran, i’m sure will keep you company, and you do not, under any circumstances, come looking for me. deal?”

it was your time to sigh. you raised your hand and moved the few stranded of hair out of face. she had cut her hair a lot shorter as a way to disguise herself, she had actually changed her whole outfit (jinx made her go shopping) for that matter, a new dark purple cloak. she had a new mech arm (jinx actually made some of it) and even got her first piercing right under her bottom lip. obviously it wasn’t going to disguise her a hundred percent but enforcers would be looking for her with a different description than she has now.

“okay.” you said after a while. you still didn’t understand why she couldn’t just stay where she was, here with you. yes she wanted to protect you but just as she said, enforcers really didn’t know where they were. yes it was a chance of them coming your way, but sevika couldn’t bare the thought of anything happening to you so she decided herself that she was going to leave, that it was the best option for the both of you.

two days later sevika had packed her bags. it wasn’t much, she’s never been someone to own a lot of things, she just packed what she needed. she also packed her clothes that were in the closet and put them away so just in case enforcers did make their way in, they wouldn’t know she lives here, they would only think you did.

you laid in bed that night, resting on sevika’s chest, catching your breath, a pit of despair looming over you knowing what was coming the following day. you just had sex, like any regular night. but this time it wasn’t rough, it wasn’t fast, it felt completely different. yes you’ve had sex where it wasn’t your regular fast pace. this felt softer. her touch was somehow even more gentle than it normally was. it was slow, like she didn’t want it to ever end. she kept you close to her, her fingers were never not intertwined with yours as her wet clit moved against you.

maybe you saw the tears in her eyes right before she buried her face in your neck, clearly not wanting you to see, but you didn’t mention it. and maybe a few of your own tears fell into her hair as you wrapped one of your arms around her, holding the back on her head. sevika didn’t notice.

yes she was only going away for 3 months, not really a long time, so why were you both crying? it was probably because there was a possibility of her not coming back, you both knew it, but it was never said. because if its never spoken out loud, maybe it wouldn’t be real…

you looked up at her, rubbing you thumb across her chest. “i love you so much, sev.”

“i love you too, baby. you don’t understand how much i love you.” she leaned down to kiss your lips. “i barely even understand it.”

_________________

the next morning it was quiet. too quiet for sevika’s liking. because sevika left before you even woke up since she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave after seeing the look in your eyes knowing she’s gonna be gone for three months, maybe even longer, but the hope was only three. she left with the memory of you sleeping peacefully, of you humming softly in your sleep as she caressed your hair and rubbed your back.

if she sat at her desk, debating if this was the right decision once again and if she had tears slowing falling down her face while she kissed your forehead and made her way out the door once telling herself again that it was, it was the right decision, you didn’t need to know that.

you woke up to a cold, empty bed. you weren’t necessarily surprised, she’s left to go to work way before you woke up at times. but this time was different. she was gone. you weren’t going to see her for what is probably gonna feel like a life time for you. for the both of you.

you reached out and grabbed her pillow to hug to your chest. when you did, something caught your attention. her old outfit along with her old red cloak were still draped over her desk chair. you had washed them the other day and you knew you had to put them up and keep them away incase enforcers were to show. but at that moment you couldn’t, you got out of bed and grabbed her cloak, wrapping yourself in it as you hoped and prayed to whatever was out there that sevika would be safe and that she came back to you in one piece.

_________________

it was a little over two months later, three months was just around the corner. you were starting to feel a little bit of hope bubble up inside of you. shit had died down as sevika had said, (other than the incident that happened about two weeks ago) and enforcers were getting tired of running in circles and the number of them that came down to the underity kept lowering.

right after sevika left, it was a bit rough. ran had came by and stayed with you for a full day or two to keep you company and make sure you were doing okay, reminding you that sevika knew what she was doing, that she wouldn’t have left if she didn’t think it was the best option. they didn’t stay the night because enforcers were more likely to be coming down while it was dark but they came by almost every day to check in on you.

you finally decided that you could do this. you trusted sevika. you trusted her with everything in you. and again, three months was just around the corner.

_________________

a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts as you were getting ready to go to bed. it was a quiet night, only hearing the pitter patter of rain hitting the roof. you went and looked through the peephole in the door (because sevika reminded you to not open the door until you check who it is) and saw that it wasn’t an enforcer.

so you opened the door and stared at ran in front of you, they were looking down. their hair and clothes were soaked bc of the rain and when they finally looked up at you, you could see their makeup was running down their face.

they were sobbing you realized and your heart stopped. you looked down to see what they were holding and…

oh.

sevika.

she came back to you…but only one piece of her came back.

the wet purple cloak was clutched tightly in their hands and your heart started racing, you started shaking and tears immediately formed in your eyes when you noticed the red splotches on it.

“i-i-i’m sorry.” ran stuttered out. they stumbled inside just enough to where they would fall into you and you both nearly hit the ground.

“no, no, no, no ,no-“ you started and ran wrapped one of their arms around you, let out a chocked sob and then both of you were on the ground, almost in the middle of the doorway while it was still raining. you felt the cloak in between you two and the tears finally fell. you felt completely empty, shattered, like you wanted to scream at the sky and sob until the only thing rolling down your face was the rain.

three months…that was the deal. it was almost here. and now it never will be.

_________________

it was hours after ran came by, hours after ran stopped crying, hours after you stopped sobbing into the purple cloak, now soaked with your tears instead of the rain. it was hours after the rain had stopped and it was past midnight that ran was finally able to tell you what happened.

they didn’t know, really. they told you they ran into an old friend and one of the first things he said to ran was “oh, and i’m really sorry about sevika.”

ran was confused by what he said and their friend then realized they didn’t know what he was talking about. he was hesitant to tell them, of course, but told them what he knew.

he said he saw three zaunite’s coming from a house about two weeks ago, way back in the undercity where he roamed about a lot simply because it was quiet, less people. it was safe, but maybe not so much anymore. the three men were clearly carrying a body with a white sheet over them. as they walked, a mech arm had slipped out and hit one of the guys in the leg and startled him. ran’s friend recognized it as sevika’s.

ran asked him to show them where the house was and he did. ran rushed into the house, noticing the trail of blood going up the steps and was met with one of their worst fears inside. the purple cloak on the floor was the first thing they noticed. then they noticed the blood on the cloak, then on the floor. it was enough that ran rushed back outside to throw up over the side of the railing as they were almost hyperventilating.

the enforcers must have found her and shot her, is the conclusion ran came to. after a bit of silence, a few sniffles heard here and there, ran questioned how you were going to tell jinx.

you had absolutely no idea. all you knew was that sevika’s gone. she’s been gone. and you had no idea.

_________________

sevika had heard from listening in on a few peoples conversation that another wave had started. more enforcers were swarming the undercity. what she didn’t know was it was because jinx almost got herself caught. it was an accident, of course, she didn’t mean to get in the line of sight of an enforcer when all she wanted to do was to go to jericho’s for a little snack for her and ran. but it pissed the enforcers off enough that they decided to adventure deep into the city to look for her.

sevika went out, as she usually did. she checked every other day to see how things were doing, to try and see how many enforcers were out. but that night she went out at the wrong time because two enforcers were making their way down in search of jinx, thinking she might’ve been hiding deep in the shadows of the undercity.

she noticed them before they noticed her. she turned around quickly, but not quickly enough. they had caught the end of her cloak, running up on her and she turned around when she heard the noise. they recognized her immediately, her mech arm poking out beneath her cloak.

she didn’t have the time to think before one of them fired a shot at her, hitting her in the chest and knocking her to the ground. she had just enough energy to power her mech arm and use her blade to slice both legs of the enforcer who shot her. he screamed and fell to the ground in front of her.

the enforcers then decided that fuck it, she was shot, there’s a long way out of here and she wasn’t gonna make it out, so the enforcer helped his friend to his feet and they left, leaving sevika on the ground.

she placed her hand over where she was shot, blood running down her hand. she knew she had to make it back inside, at least. breathing was getting difficult and her eye sight was blearing but she managed to get up the steps and inside the door. that was as far as her body would let her go.

she was flat on her back on the floor of the run down house she was in. her own shuttered breath was the only noise she heard. the only thing she felt was a burning sensation in her chest. she knew she had to put something other than her hand on her wound but her cloak was tangled beneath her mech arm. she did her best and at least got it over her head but she tried and failed at pulling it out, giving up when her good arm was too weak to do so.

she coughed and moved her head to the side to spit the blood out. as her eyes started feeling heavy, they started drooping and her mind started wondering. she thought of you. she thought about how she left almost three months ago. she left you sleeping peacefully, curled into the blankets where you were previously curled up in her arms. you always loved being in her arms, she was always so warm. but right now she felt cold, so so cold.

she wondered for a moment how you were. if you were eating, drinking, getting enough sleep. she wondered if ran and jinx were doing okay, if they were still safe. ran became sevika’s friend after they both started working for silco. the first thing sevika noticed was that ran never said much. which was never an issue. then she noticed they were the only person who could come close to beating her at cards and then suddenly they were friends. jinx was…well she was jinx. sevika may have felt a bit (a lot) of hatred for her in the past, mostly for blowing her up multiple times, but the little shit had grown on her. not that she’d ever let jinx know that.

now the burning pain in her chest was getting unbearable and a tear slipped down her face. she thought about what if she had stayed and just for a moment she almost regretted leaving you. she thought about what would’ve happened if you were with her right now. you would probably be frantically trying to stop her bleeding, that is if you hadn’t been shot along with her, which was more likely. if you hadn’t been shot, you probably would’ve been moving her hair out of her eyes, making her keep them open as you talked to her.

then she thought about why she felt the need to leave so bad because of course she could have stayed. she could have protected you, at least she wants to believe she could have, and then it clicked.

it was because you were never apart of her plans. you came along so suddenly and changed everything for her so fast that she couldn’t keep up. she never planned to care about someone so much. and she cared about you so fucking much, too much to let you die because of her. you weren’t supposed to be apart of this. she never planned for you to be apart of her life.

you were her last thought and her last breath was more of a sigh, a sigh of content knowing you were safe, knowing that you weren’t holding her hand or kissing her forehead, knowing that you weren’t here with her… and she was okay with that.

#im sorry <3 #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika angst #sevika fic

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cloudcountry · 3 months

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hello! shy and ancient follower who recently came back to tumblr :33 i saw requests were open for twst, and was wondering if you had any headcanons for merman! vil for mermay! (the new name is so good!!)

SUMMARY: betta fish merman vil and his human!!

COMMENTS: PLS. SOBS. I GOT THIS REQUEST MAY 20TH BUT IM NOT WRITING IT TIL. JUNE 8TH. ITS NOT MERMAY ANYMORE WHY AM I ALWAYS LATE IN MAY

Vil is absolutely a betta fish merman, fiercely independent and very territorial. His fins are large and fan out around him like purple plumage, drifting through the water elegantly.

His teeth are razor sharp, and if you’re lucky you’ll never see them snapping at another merman who dares approach you.

He’ll blow bubbles at you as a way of flirting, since he figured out pretty quickly that his two legged human wasn’t built for fighting. (Which is another common courting ritual between betta fish.)

While bringing him fish is generally a sweet thing to do, if you’re not careful, Vil will eat and eat and eat and eat. The desire to feed and live is far stronger than his human form's desire to eat nutritious, scheduled meals.

Instincts tend to take over when he's in his element. In the water, you never know when your next meal will be, so he’ll consume meat for hours and make himself sick if you bring him too much.

Vil can survive outside of the water for a short amount of time. He uses this time to watch the sunset with you, butting his head up against you occasionally as a sign of affection.

If you stumble across Vil while he’s sleeping, his eyes may be open. This is normal. Don’t worry about it. The first few times it probably confused the hell out of you but you figured out pretty quickly its just one of his quirks.

Vil favors the warmer waters, so you’ll never have to venture into deeper waters to go see him! He’s very touchy when you’re in the water with him, fins fluttering around you like a cloak as his sharp nails glide over your skin.

You swear his scales are brighter with you around. Regardless, he always seems to shimmer.

Maybe it's just for you.

#auburn's fics <3 #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit fluff #vil x reader #vil fluff #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst x reader

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smolvenger · 10 months

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Yggdrasil (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: Your husband, the god of mischief, has made the ultimate sacrifice for his friends, and the world...he lives, but now he is alone...that is until you choose to join him in his solitude and make a life there.

Warnings: MAJOR spoilers for the ending of the Loki series. Angst, but fluff and hurt/comfort. YN becomes a goddess in her YN-y moment. Brief mentions of sex and pregnancy, but no smut at all. Fix it Fic goodness. Canon and Norse mythology is not a code and more like a guideline. Is it accurate? I don't know. And this is fic world. Accuracy don't mean shit. I just want my boy to be happy after all that and do my part as a Loki fic writer after...THAT.

Word Count: 2K

@fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

You walked over to the tree. It was incredibly beautiful. The vines reaching out. The colors are everywhere. The trunk of it twisting, twisting round. The blueness and soft greens that surrounded you. Light purple flowers high up, blossoming. You had heard of it in stories. Maybe dreamed of it once. But here…here in person it was even more beautiful.

“Hello there, Yggdrasil.” you greeted with a smile.

There was a breeze in the wind. It rattled the leaves above. The starry sky. It didn’t feel too cold here- it felt sweet, crisp. An early autumn night. You took several steps closer until you were right before the trunk. Your voice lowering.

“But I know who you really are…who is in there…” you continued.

The search had been long. It had been a month. A month since you saw him. The look on his face, and felt his sacrifice, his steps going forward. Now here it was-in person. Here he was.

It shivered in response. You went up, gently placing a hand on the bark.

You felt the curves of your lips to a gentle frown. A voice that was not begging…only requesting. Soft, but grounded. As grounded as the tree was though in it’s magic it seemed like it floated where it grew.

“Please…take me to him…it is all I want, all I wish, all I ask for…please allow me to see him…even if it’s only once…”

Was your prayer answered? Even heard? You sucked in a breath, feeling your chest grow tight with anticipation. The delicate lines of both despair and hope on a thin line.The golden band around your finger felt tight- shimmering amidst the dark wood of the tree.

The vines relented. They thinned and opened up- as easily as silk. There was a glowing opening within the tree. You felt it- a stillness. As if you were waited. Expected.

Inside it, you took your steps into the heart of the tree. It felt like the cool mist, the light rain as you walked through-like the light rain that poured the first night you let him into your bed. Your heart raced, your palms clammy.

Was this a mistake? The wrong one? It had to be…it had to! It couldn't have done that unless… it was really…no- was this it? Would Yggdrasil kill you? Destroy you for knowledge so intimate, so secret?

Branches, vines, leaves- so much wood here. There was a green light that glowed about it, shining everywhere- how perfect for him, you mused.

Your head turned. Throat going dry and tight with dread, fear. You searched around. Eyes skittering through the thick vines.

You looked around-nothing but the greenery…

Then…there was a voice. Breathy, baritone, low, rich-and it whispered your name in echoes.

The greenery opened up. You saw first horns. Then…

There, on a throne, surrounded by vines, there he sat. Pale and handsome. He was always handsome to you. Despite the lines of care, his drooping eyes…it was him. You knew that face- caressed it, kissed it so many times.

His eyes then lowered to you. Its blueness seemed darkened, dimmed. Then he looked at you, squinting. He whispered your name again, to you. You felt everything in you freeze. You wanted this. Processed it. It was real- very, very real.

“Is…is that…” he began to whisper.

Tears brimmed up your eyes and you cupped your mouth, as you felt them drop down your hand already.

“Loki it’s you!” you cried out.

Sobbing hard, you ran into him, almost tackling him into a hug. Crying so hard your whole body shook with each tearfall. So much your face felt hot, even as it scratched against his cloak- against the long vines. You felt his hands wrap around you. And you heard him just say your name again- an incantation. A spell to bring you back. A spell that worked. You cried as he held you, the vines around him shivering.

“What…what is it…why…why did you come here?” he asked.

You released the hug. Wiping off your tears with your sleeve like a little child. Your tone returned to the old teasing.

“You silly man! What kind of wife abandons her husband?”

Loki’s mouth opened, but he said nothing. His face was in awe.

“I came here for you! I figured out how- and I did!” you replied.

He let out a deep sigh. He lifted his white hand, caressing your cheek. You leaned into it, enjoying the intimacy, his touch that you had been deprived of, that he had been deprived of too for so long.

“You know I cannot leave this. Ever. I…I must do this, my love…I had to…to save all of them…to save you…I…I must make sure…their stories all…all are happy…are managed, well…even yours.” he voiced. His face serene, though a tear fell down across his cheek.

You then took his hand and clutched it.

“Loki, the many times you comforted me when I cried. Stood by me. Protected me when I was in danger, scared. Saved me, even. And you know how…how lonely I would get in Asgard. Who else would run to my side to comfort me…but you. I shall do that for you!”

His eyes widened.

“But…you cannot give up your home, your life!” he replied.

You shook your head.

“I will make a new one here- we will make a new one here…Thor and Frigga gave me their blessing before I left. They saw how happy we made each others…and that is what they want. I told them what you did. The people you saved…and they’re…they’re proud of you.”

He blinked rapidly, more tears falling down. You lifted two of your hands- cupping his face lovingly. He had no choice but to look in your eyes.

“When we were married, we promised, before the AllFather and AllMother to always stand by each other...I will honor the vows I made on that altar, as you honored your vows to me,” you declared.

The wind rustled above. Inside, there were a few violet buds that dangled, moving slightly. Willing the flower to open.

“My darling….Asgard will lack its princess.”

“A mere consort? No! I am not an heir to anything! A mere accessory to a throne, a part of a painting…and nothing eles? And alone? Loki, I don't need a palace, gold, riches, and titles…I only ask to be loved and safe…and Loki…you will be alone…now- you won’t be. I will stay by you. We will face this new part of your life together!”

There was a slight grown from the wood. Both of you looked about, your hands dropping. He nestled into the green cloak he wore around him. His helmet perfect for him- never once slipping off his head.

“It’s quiet here…there’s no one…nothing…a life of nothing…but making these stories” he mused.

“Then let me stay…let me help…if only…if only to be with you…I will live here. If not near- then give me access. I will stay here, come by every day. Visit for hours…just to be with you.”

“My darling…sweet, sweet wife…I was alone and I…I don’t have to…”

There were tears in his eyes.

“Thank you…thank you, my dear…”

He pressed his forehead to yours. The cold metal of the forehead touching your own. You only held hands. Felt each other- the love in your systems bursting forth.

A vine went to you, grazing against your arm. You lifted a hand.

“Which one is this?” you asked.

“This one…a man named Steve…or Marc…he’s three at once, it’s very complicated….” Loki explained.

You lifted a finger to touch it. There was a ripple. The vines shook, some of them went to you. You wondered…you lifted a hand. It allowed you to touch it. There was a small, reddish glow, it went up and through.

“You just…just…made something happen…something will occur for Steve…he’s about to learn what gifts he truly has…my dear…has this happened before?”

“No- not until now…”

“You think that…you have a certain…gift?” he asked.

The vines reacted in turn. You realzed as you touched them, you could help move these stories. Turn them- touching made something happen and Loki would tell you.

“My dear…you have a gift. One of fate…”

“Then…I guess I cannot leave now. You will help with stories. I will help with fates. We both have work to do.”

He smiled.

“Asgard now has a new goddess…” he said. You went up, and kissed him. You cried as your lips touched. And there was a shudder that went through the trees and rattled through the forest like a wind.

It was an adjustment. Making a home just outside of the remains of the earth. Fortunately, you knew enough magic to get by. To transport and conjure food. Even gather some from the nearby village. Enough to make a garden, a home.

And every day, you walked out to Yggdrasil. Vanished for hours. Then returned.

For the villagers, it was odd that a goddess of fate was just going about the streets getting groceries among them. You merely shrugged and laughed it off.

You said your husband was busy. Quite busy. He had an important job-crucial one. Yet people wondered at you- the mysterious goddess who lived in a cottage by the woods, whose husband never appeared, and vanished into the forest. The forest at the end of the world, mind you- every day and returned with a smile on her face as if nothing happened.

It was quiet and simple. No opulent balls and feasts of Asgard. But no fathers with clear favorites and tears and bloody battles with countless corpses and heartbreak either.

How often you polished the horns on his helmet and washed his cloak by the river. Then he would tell you all about what happened. Fates and stories. You would mend them, mind them. Determine what worked, what did not. And you would laugh and cry so hard over every story on earth of each person you would feel like a rag rung out…yet in a good way.

And you would wrap your arms around him. Sit on his lap on the throne, as you did back then so many times before. Kiss him and nuzzle into him. Feel his touch- remind him through the brush of your fingers through his dark curls. I am here, I am here, I am here.

It was like being remarried- A honeymoon fortress of oak, willow leaves, and flower petals. The newness of your husbands role, his abilities. As well as yours. But without everything else…no, you didn’t need anything else. Only each other.

It was a month later, you knew the change. You felt it. The suspicion. The inkling you felt since you began your journey. Counting on your fingers from when it last happened, and your journey to him began, the timing was right. The intuition. The small ringing of a bell in the back of your head getting louder, and louder with each passing week. The one reason on the backburner that was never confirmed. And now it was. You both wanted it. Hoped for it. Now, though the circumstances could have never been guessed, you would both receive your wish. The confirmation long awaited.

On Yule, you teasingly adored the tree in ribbons. Loki inside scoffed, rolling his eyes. But it only made you laugh harder. In Spring, you collect its flowers and put them in vases. In Summer, you cooled beneath it’s shade. Loki made sure your story was hte one most preciously protected, guarded. You made old charms from the flowers with his magic- for your safety and good health. Flowers worn over your head in crowns, on your neck. And in Autumn, you watched as they oranged and swirled. How lovely they were surrounding you as you held each other.

A year and a half went by before you knew it, as swift as mortals lives. the cottage had an infant girl living in it. She had dark hair, and your skin and eyes. And she was starting to walk. You held her up by both hands in the grass before the forest.

“Come along Freya! There’s a good girl! A step at a time!” you cooed at her.

Who knew what her powers would be. What she was goddess of. But here, she wasn’t a goddess. She was just a baby.

She was Babbling as the grass tickled her feet. The loving, green dress you tucked over her. You held her tiny, chubby hand as she experimentally bent her knees. Then she made a sound of triumph.

Motherhood was not going to stop your gifts and powers as a goddess of fate. You touched the vines and turned fates however. But you had to give happy ones to the friends of him. The ones who meant so much to him, did so much for him. For Mobius, you made sure his sons grew up healthy and strong and happy, with long vacations by lakes and oceans. For Ouroboros, you gave him several awards and successes as a writer and the inspiration and motivation to create, pour water into his own well, and never lose the joy of it. You made sure they all were safe and content.

You scooped little Freya up your arms, giving her a kiss on the side of her head. She was behaving well- not crying loud to wake the whole village. Needing perhaps a cradle from the vines of Yggdrasil again in Norns Know what time of night if she was especially fussy.

You walked her again to the tree. She looked out with her wide eyes. One hand trying to touch the leaves, the vines, the branches. A thing of flowers bloomed for her. One leafy vine went over to graze her cheek. She kicked in enthusiasm, giggling in such pure joy.

You smiled at her and then at Yggdrasil. Seeing the portal open once again.

Knowing he was inside again- to see her. Meet her. Hold her as he did when she was a swaddled newborn to be brought- for him to just hold her. Despite the great loneliness of Loki’s inital fate, you all did everything to change it. He would meet Freya and watch her grow up. He would see her, hold her, love her. Again. Again. And again.

You turned your face to the baby with a smile, and then to the portal door and the god of stories waiting inside.

“Freya- let’s go see your father.”

469 notes · View notes

starsofang · 4 months

Text

Finish Line

Street Racer!AU / Part 1

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Returning to the racing world in a new city proves to be futile when one of the racers has it out for you. He's determined to take you down, and you're determined to win.

TW: will be added for future parts, reader has a biker name but does not have a referenced name otherwise

A/N: if you’ve seen blade runner or cyberpunk, those were the vibes i’m going for. but basically all street racer!141 are in this, pray for me <3

The radiant glow of luminescent neons flooded your vision as you lifted yourself off of the bike you’d ridden into town, casting arrays of purples and blue along the span of your skin, reflecting blinding shimmers off of the glossy shine of your bike.

The city was boisterous around you. The streets filled with a variety of people covered in racing gear or alternative twists in their style. All sorts of glitzy colors adorning their bodies, mirroring the image of the neon city and blending them in. Crazy was the best word to describe it. Hectic, maddening hysteria that littered the city like a plague.

You stood in the midst of it all, taking in the booming voices that carried through the air of excited participants in the race that was soon to begin. It was a frenzy even being in the city, and you found yourself sticking to the side of your bike and opting to watch instead of join. After all, you knew nobody, and this was your first race – at least, your first one in a long time, and in a new city on top of that.

You’d never been in a place so lively before, and perhaps that was the appeal to it all. People were excited. They treated street racing like a sport rather than the crime it was. Illegal, unhinged, dangerous.

It was the most life-threatening sport one could get into, and you were one of those unfortunate souls who had a knack for speed.

“Takin’ it all in?” An unfamiliar voice geared its way towards you through the chaos, and when you looked over, you saw an older man with kind eyes and a heavy-set beard. Upon further inspection, you noticed his left leg was purely robotic, all metal and fancy tech, a neon outline tracing along the ridges and curves.

“It’s a lot,” you breathed in response, earning a hum of acknowledgement from the mystery man.

“Sure is,” he agreed, though his wide smile and twinkling eyes made it seem as if he preferred it that way. “You racin’ tonight, doll?”

You glanced over at your bike from beside you. Purple, matching the fluorescent city, and fast as hell when you knew how to control it. “I am. First race in a while. Are you?”

The man chuckled lowly, shaking his head. He tapped his knuckles against the cool metal of his leg, giving you a cheeky smile that poked through the fur on his face. “Can’t race with a leg like this. People might think I’m cheatin’.”

The tone of his voice was teasing, and it brought your own laugh out. “I wouldn’t say it’s cheating. Maybe just a bit of modification, is all.”

He laughed again, and the sound of it eased the original tension that consumed you from the sight of a new crowd in a new city. “I like the way you think, doll. I’m John. John Price.”

Your eyebrows raised at the name, and you stared at him with a look of surprise and awe. His hand was outstretched to shake yours, and when you shook off your initial shock, you reached out to grab it.

John Price. Even in other cities unlike this one, like your own, John Price was a name whispered amongst other racers. A true street racer, one that took win after win like it was easy. In his day and time, he was the best of the best, and if you knew he was in your race, it was promised fate that you would lose to him.

Nobody knew what happened to him after he disappeared from the racing crowd, but judging from the robotic leg, you could piece together the picture.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you greeted politely, your hands clasping together to give each other a firm shake before releasing. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Really?” he hummed in amusement, feigning humility. “Didn’t take it that others knew about me in other cities.”

“How’d you know I wasn’t from here?”

“Oh, I can tell, doll. You looked like a poor lamb walkin’ into a wolf’s den, comin’ here,” he teased, and you shifted on your feet in embarrassment. “No need to fret. I’ll introduce you to a couple of the other racers, get you more acquainted.”

You weren’t sure why he would bother to do so. This race was a competition, and getting to know the other racers you were about to go up against wasn’t exactly in your books for the night. He seemed to recognize the muted confusion, though, because he smiled and beckoned you with a hand to follow him.

“It’s good to know who you’re competin’ against,” he explained as you walked alongside him. Your bike handles were between both of your hands, steering it beside you, too uncertain of the new area to trust anybody to leave it be. “Good to learn their tricks so you can use it against them.”

“Why exactly are you telling me this?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“Haven’t had a new racer in a while. Not a promisin’ one, anyway. Forgive me, but I tend to get a bit excited when somebody new joins the races.”

That made sense, you suppose. He didn’t race anymore, so he thrived off of the thrill of every race. If he couldn’t join, he could certainly watch and observe. Price probably knew all of the ins and outs of every street racer without their knowledge.

You followed him down the bustling streets, passing by crowds of colorful people who were nearly bouncing off the walls in anticipation. The looks you got along the way had you uneasy, but most of them were more curious than cruel, taking in the sight of your bike and the flashy, purple protective gear you wore.

Finding yourself at a rundown looking building that was littered with a vivid glow, you entered what appeared to be a garage. It was filled with various other bikes, as well as an insane amount of toolboxes lining the walls with spare parts scattered carelessly.

Propping your bike up with its kickstand, you stood a bit straighter when Price called out to a group of men on the other side of the garage. One was working on a bike, while the other two were lounged lazily on a beat up couch, bickering with one another.

The sound of Price’s voice seemed to send them into immediate submission, and they stood, making their way over to you.

They were… certainly a mixed pack, weren’t they?

The first man you took notice of was decked out in a bright blue that glowed in curvy patterns along his gear. His hair was shaved into a messy mohawk that flopped languidly atop his head, and his smile was crooked and toothy, creasing his eyes into wrinkly crescents.

The second one had a warmth to him, despite the edginess of his gear. It was deep red and meshed well with the tan of his skin, and just like everything else in this city, provided a neon blaze that you swore would cause you to turn blind at some point.

The third one was incredibly off putting. Cold, stiff, and eyes that bore into you like a knife digging in your skin. It was laced over with poison, threatening to invade your veins and taint your bloodstream. His eyes were the only thing you could see, for the rest of his face was covered by a painted balaclava, the mouth of a skull covering his own. Dark and dangerous, a racer you grew wary of when the time came for competing.

“This here is Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. They won’t bite,” Price assured. You highly doubted that.

You gave them a polite nod of your head, and Soap clasped a hand on your shoulder, beaming at you. His smile was nearly as blinding as the rest of the city, and you wondered briefly if it hurt.

“New comer, eh? Ever raced before?” he asked in enthusiastic curiosity.

“Yeah,” you replied, and Gaz released a low whistle. When you shifted your eyes to him, he was looking at your bike.

“Looks like you have a new competitor, Ghost,” Gaz teased. Ghost didn’t seem amused by it, his eyes continuing to stare you down in silent disapproval.

“Unlikely,” he rumbled dryly.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. Ghost was already giving you the information to know you needed to steer clear of him, both on the streets and off. He was competitive, and you could practically see it burning through his irises, like a raging fire that you had no way of putting out.

It was unfortunate that you were also just as competitive. You had your reasons for returning to racing, and you’d be damned if a man like Ghost attempted to sway you off track.

“Guess we’ll have to see, Ghost,” you chirped. His eyes narrowed in warning, pupils near black from the way he was scoping you out and silently pulling you apart in the clouds of his mind. Price snorted at the tension, but made no attempt to stop it. After all, he liked friendly fire – though, this wasn’t exactly as friendly as it was fire.

“Right,” Ghost grunted, cocking his head at you. His posture was menacing, and you would be smart to ease off the high horse, but you didn’t falter. “Don’t exactly think I caught your name.”

“Maze,” you offered.

Of course, everybody in the racing world only ever went by their biker name. Everybody’s had meaning, a reasoning for being called that. Maze was a name that was pinned to you without so much as a say, based on how effortlessly you could maneuver your way through tangled webs of roads and corners in the midst of chaotic races.

Ghost was a name unheard of, and surely, there was a baleful reason for it.

“Maze,” Ghost repeated with a tongue full of smoking venom. “I guess we’ll see, then.”

It was a threat if you ever knew one, and from the way the others remained perfectly unphased by it, a normal one at best. This was who he was, his true colors, dark and gloomy in comparison to the bright vivids that painted over the city.

Before you could say much else, a blaring sound filled the air, sharp and deafening. It was a shrill in your ears, lacing your eardrums with discomfort

Price’s hand clapped on your back and he gave you a promising grin.

“Best to ready yourself up, doll. I’m excited to see you work your magic.”

You hauled your bike back out on the crowded streets, where electrifying voices shocked through the air like a vice. It was overwhelming, but nothing you weren’t used to. Races were the heat of most cities, and many people partook in the frenzy of events with dripping exhilaration, gathering together in a heap of hectic mess to place their bets on who would come out as the victor.

Tugging your helmet over your head didn’t do much to quiet down the noise, but it allowed you a blanket of dull security, giving you a chance to breathe. You prepared yourself by lining your bike with the others, and when you really studied your surroundings, there were dozens. Each and every bike was crafted with their own unique design and theme, and the drivers occupying them were just as otherworldly. You felt almost like an ant in a big world of antsy animals.

Your gloved hands gripped the handles of your bike, tight and tense, and you sucked in a long breath before releasing it, allowing your shoulders to relax.

Looking around, you noticed Soap was perched next to you on his own bike. When he took notice of you, he propped up his visor to show off his eyes, and from the way they crinkled, you could only assume he was grinning at you. His hand lifted, propping up his thumb in a weak attempt to wish you good luck.

You gave one back to be a good sport, but you knew once the alarms went off and flags were raised, this would be a warzone. There was no friendly competition, only bloodshed and battle.

Ghost’s bike was settled somewhere in front of you by a couple of lanes, and you took a moment to read his body language.

He was just as stiff as before, his shoulders pulled taut and his hands gripping the handles so tight, you were sure his knuckles were white beneath his gloves. His bike was as black as his attitude, nearly disappearing in the night if not for the bright lights reflecting off of them, and his gear matched perfectly with it. The helmet he wore mirrored the design of his balaclava you saw him in, with delicate, white swirls painted on to the mouth of the plastic and etching up to the top.

When you looked at him, he was already looking at you. Even under his visor, you could feel the intensity of his stare, like a looming shadow threatening to pull you by the ankle and yank you into a world of suffocating darkness.

You stared back until he turned away, noticing the small head shake he did to himself, but not minding it.

Competition. This was a competition. May the best racer win.

The wait for the call was dreadful. It racked your bones with unnerving anticipation, edging you towards the fall of a cliff, threatening to push you over. It was a game, body rigid in impatience, but when the sound of a gunshot fired through the air, it all melted away, replaced with premeditated determination.

Instantly, the sounds of revving bikes and screeching tires filtered through your helmet and bled into your ears. Your own joined in the mix, hand quick to accelerate your bike in motion, surging you forward. It was a rush of adrenaline, like a drug shooting through your bloodstream, and it willed you into a state of starved aggression.

All thoughts that had plagued your mind were brushed aside and replaced with nothing but the thought of winning. The prize money was a wealthy sum, and that alone was enough to have you weaving in between the other racers, leaning your body forward for some extra leverage.

Buildings passed by you like a quick blink, the various colors whipping by like a flash. Your vision was filled with the backs of other racers ahead of you, as well as the neon signs that littered every street corner, holograms of food and pretty women from the diversity in night business becoming your most perceived line of sight.

The other bikers were brutal. It showed in the way they tried cutting you off with a sharp flick of their bike when they noticed you trailing behind them, your front wheel nearly kissing their back wheel. It was an aggressive fight for dominance, and for a brief moment, you feared you were biting off more than you could chew.

This was an entirely new city, one you weren’t accustomed to, and these were new riders. You didn’t know the streets like you did back at home, nor did you know the layout for shortcuts. You didn’t know how to adjust to the neon oasis that filled your sight with blinding lights.

The only thing you knew how to do was fight back. And fight back you would.

When you saw the opportunity to speed past the racer in front of you, a man in an all orange suit, you took it. There was a gap so small you were crazy to try and fit through it, but you curled your hand around the bike handle, revving forward and sliding past him so he was on your tail.

You hoped that if Price was watching somewhere, he was somewhat impressed.

The twists and turns of the streets were difficult to maneuver, but not impossible. It was definitely a fight to control your bike on the sharp corners that required lots of tilting of your own body weight, but once you made it past the first couple, it proved to be much smoother than you thought.

The more the race went on, the more your muscle memory of riding came back to you, and it was a thrilling fun rather than a daunting spiral. It coursed through your veins like a fever, and the adrenaline pumped through you in earnest, causing you to feel alive.

The back and forth of you weaving in and out of open vessels caused you to end up in second place, and the only racer ahead of you was none other than Ghost. Now, other riders, you were confident in defeating, but Ghost was a lovely challenge.

He had a couple of yards on you, and the way he controlled his bike was a near work of art. He was positively beautiful at it, and now you were starting to understand his biker name.

Ghost, because he could disappear in the shadows of the night, never to be seen again. Nobody could catch up to him, because he was a spirit in the night riding on a cloud of shadows and devilry.

Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew, because your hands revved up one more time, your upper body leaning impossibly forward on the curve of your bike, and you were determined. If nobody could catch up to him, then you wanted to be the first.

Swerving through impossibly small streets and side alleys, he was becoming more clear in your view. If you could get just a little closer, you’d be neck and neck. With the promise of a finish line approaching, you’d have to do it soon.

Bit by bit, your bike gained proximity. You were nearly right by his side, and the sheer power of it all had your heart thumping like bombs in your chest. He was there, right there, and your win was hanging by a thin string.

Ghost’s head whipped over to look at you when he heard the sounds of your engine, and whatever expression he wore under the helmet, you wished you could see it.

As if fueled by anger, he gripped his handles a bit tighter. The two of you waltzed in a dance of back and forth, fighting for the title of victor. The street was a straight shot now, and you could see the faint holographic sign that hung above the finish line, indicating the near end of the race. It glowed at you, taunted you, beckoned you towards it like a siren of the sea. It sang pretty songs to you, desperate to grab hold of you and claim it as theirs.

The two of you were tightly bound together the closer you got, so close you could practically feel the heat of carbon as it left his exhaust. It scorched you like a blazing fire, but it only proved to encourage you more.

You fought and fought for dominance. The crowds of people waiting at the finish line were as crazed as madmen, shouting and waving their arms, desperate to see who would win.

Just as the finish line became approachable, Ghost surged a few mere inches in front of you, as if waiting for the opportunity. It was a warzone when the race ended, and you slowed your bike to a stop. Taking off your helmet, you gasped for air that was stolen from you from the pure, intoxicating adrenaline, glancing up at the lit up scoreboard that glitched with a chromatic listing of all places that racers fell into.

You were second, Ghost was first.

You wanted to win, yes. But second place was as good as they came for the first race, and you were elated.

The sounds of people celebrating nearly tuned out the angry sound of boots stomping your way. You hadn’t even had a chance to get off your bike before a hand was grabbing hold of your shoulder, whipping you around to come face to face with Ghost. His balaclava remained, even under the confines of his helmet that was no longer there, and his eyes were bristling with those same flames from before that had shifted into a dangerous blaze.

“The fuck was that?” he spat, words stabbing into you like daggers.

“A competition,” you replied calmly, perhaps a bit too cockily. “Was it not?”

Ghost leered at you, shoulders dropping and rising with the heavy breaths he took. His hand was curled into a fist in the collar of your gear, keeping you in place. It tightened its hold, and he leaned closer to your face, glaring into you.

“You need to fuckin’ watch yourself, Maze.” He spoke your name like a sin, as if announcing the Devil himself. “Pull that shit again and you won’t live to see another race.”

He promptly let go of your collar, shoving you away in the process. You could do nothing but watch as he stormed off, out of sight and out of mind. Like a Ghost.

260 notes · View notes

venerawrites · 4 months

Note

Hi, I wanted to request Ekko x reader, where she is a fighter who moves like a dancer...like Gwen Stacy!

author's note: I love Ekko (I would give this boy the world if I could <3) and I absolutely imagine him a badass partner! I saw "she", so I am rolling with a fem!reader for this one! Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for requesting! <3

Only God and probably Scar, given the amount of times Ekko has complained to him, knew how much he hated you. How much he hated the way you talk; the way you dress; the way you always butt in his fights; the way you moved, just like a silk in the wind; the way you drove him to the end of his sanity. No other word could describe the burning feeling in his chest every time he laid his eyes on you. Or maybe there was one more word...

The first time he saw you he thought you were one of Silco's workers. What other reason did you have to be in one of his Shimmer factories? You, however, did not pay any attention to him or the rest of the Firelights, instead jumping over their head and kicking two of the workers, who had blocked the entrance of the factories.

Ekko has seen a lot of fighters during his life, but none of them were like you. You carried yourself with such ease and grace, it looked almost like you were dancing, rather than fighting. For a moment, he thought he must have inhaled some Shimmer or something because no human could move so beautifully, yet cause so much destruction.

That night he and the Firelights barely had to do anything - you took care of most of the workers and the Shimmer all by yourself, leaving nothing, but a glowing purple mess behind you. And then just as fast as you came, you were gone.

For weeks he wondered if you were just a fragment of his imagination. He was a young man now, one forced to grow up way too quickly, the number of his encounters with girls can be counted on the fingers of his one hand. Even then, they were all members of his rebellious group and some (not all) remained to be his friends to this day. Perhaps, his heart was dreaming of something different, something exciting... or maybe he did inhale Shimmer and was just high.

"Have you seen that girl since the night at the factory? It's like she disappeared from the face of the Earth.", Scar said one day, while they were both in the workshop. "What girl?", Ekko grumbled under his nose, too focused on tightening the screws of his hoverboard to actually listen and understand what his friend was asking him. Scar's next words, however, made him freeze and he dropped his instruments loudly on the floor. "You know, that girl that trashed a whole Shimmer factory by herself? The way she moved, man... I won't be surprised if she was on drugs herself! How can anyone move like that?"

Confirming that you were NOT just a fantasy that his brain made up to trick him, he made it his mission to find out who you were. Back then you wore all black costume and a mask covering everything but your eyes. But these eyes... He had dreamed of them for many nights, he surely could recognise them if he saw them again.

After weeks of searching, he encountered you for a second time during another one of his attacks on Silco's ships. He swiftly dodged Jinx's bullets, waiting for an opening to take her down, and then - PUFF! - you landed in the middle of the deck, dancing around the blue-haired girl's rage, till you successfully swept your leg under her, bringing her on her back. You quickly disarmed her, putting some of her guns in your bag, before running in the opposite direction.

Your brother always said you should never look back after a fight. "Hit and run", he would always repeat. But as you pass the person with an owl mask, a shiver runs down your back. You can't really see it, but you are sure he is looking at you; following you with his eyes; observing you.

The moment you jumped overboard, Ekko jumped on his hoverboard, forgetting about everything else - Jinx, the Shimmer, the other Firelights, Silco's crew... at that moment only one thought was swirling in his head. He had to catch you.

He was used to going after criminals and Silco's men - with the years, it was less and less of a challenge, as he continued to improve his inventions after each fight. With you, however, it was different - despite you relying only on your parkour skills, he can barely keep up with your speed. Using any open window, door, and crack in a building, you were too quick and too flexible for him to catch up.

After a few minutes of intensive chasing, he stopped in one of the alleys, taking off his mask and rubbing his hands over his face. How in hell were you able to outrun his hoverboard? The fastest and the most advanced technology in the whole of Zaun?

Too busy swearing at himself, he didn't see you jumping from the window right above his head, till you landed directly on top of him, pressing your knees on his arms and wrapping your hands around his neck. "Who are you?", your voice was just as soft and smooth as your moves, "Why are you following me?".

You were fast and did manage to take him by surprise, he had to give you that. Your raw strength, however, was no match for him, and in seconds, your positions were reversed, while your blade was thrown somewhere down the alley.

Looking back, it was probably rude, but in the heat of the moment, Ekko just wanted to learn who you are. Taking off your mask, his eyes widened and his whole body tensed. He has seen his fair share of pretty girls, but you... fuck! Absolutely breathtaking!

While he was in awe, you were given the perfect opportunity to throw him off you and disappear in the darkness of the night. A second time you ran away from him and a second time he got absolutely mesmerized by you.

Ekko hated you. He hated how you kept showing up during each one of his missions; he hated how you started to grow bolder and more confident, mocking him how even with a hoverboard he can't keep up with you; he hated how you were so open about your despise toward Silco, as he is the one responsible for your family's addiction, yet you refused to join his group or his cause... You were a nuisance. A BIG one.

But the line between love and hate was thin, and everyone else could see that but both of you. Scar teased his leader all the time about how he never shuts up about you, despite his claim that he may dislike you even more than the Eye of Zaun.

The little game of cat and mouse you played was too addictive and fun, and it gave chance for you to be... well, you. Ekko could relax and be the boy he couldn't be when he was younger, and you had the chance to forget all the pain and suffering that surrounded you, even if it was just for a night.

Chases led to small talks; small talks led to secret meetings and secret meetings led to intense kisses and warm cuddles. It didn't take long for all the tension between you to blossom into something beautiful, something you both cherished and tried to protect.

You never joined him "officially", but you often helped with his missions, even when he insisted that you stay away because it was too dangerous. But you were stubborn and hot-headed, and always did stuff without thinking, and gosh, he just loved you for it! With all the responsibilities as a leader, he almost forgot what it was to live - till you brought that spark and excitement back into his life.

Only God and probably Scar, given the number of times he caught you sneaking into the base and Ekko's room in the middle of the night, knew how much he loved you. He loved the way you gently caressed his face; he loved the way you held him, allowing him to be vulnerable for the first time in years; he loved the way you drove him crazy, even when he wanted nothing more than to just kiss you and shut your mouth. No other word could describe the burning feeling of his chest every time he laid his eyes on you.

cc artwork: Sina Pakzad Kasra

#ekko x reader #ekko headcanons #arcane imagine #arcane masterlist #ekko arcane

168 notes · View notes

gammasnippets · 5 months

Text

[CHANNEL_9] fromis_9 '채널나인' EP61. Spotlighting 🐼 Part.4

fromis_9 Lee Seoyeon

10,141 words (Co-edited by @digipigichopshop)

To review and edit a video is often more difficult than one might think. It requires keen attention to detail, making sure that every frame is flawless and the narrative flows seamlessly with no room for error. Mess up a bit and it would have to go through additional rounds of revisions. Luckily, the initial editing appears to be free of mistakes so far. You're two videos in and instead of it being one hell of a frustrating task, it's as if you're in the comfort of your home watching porn videos in private.

It's nearly time for lunch. While everyone else is thinking about where to eat and what to have, your attention is still captured by yet another mesmerizing video in front of you. After watching Jiwon and Chaeyoung get ravaged by their partners in their videos, your craving for more intense and passionate moments only grows.

A video with a Panda Thumbnail catches your attention. As you hit the play button, excitement slowly overwhelms you knowing that Seoyeon, fromis_9’s resident rapper, is the main focus of this video. You can't wait to see how things will play out for her since she can portray both the cuteness of a panda and the fierceness of a tiger on camera. Once again, the memorable intro card for "Channel_9" appears and while it plays, you decide to include a brief recap from the previous video to refresh viewers' memories.

As the intro comes to an end and the recap plays, you prepare yourself for what is about to unfold.

The video starts with a glimpse of the opulent bar interior, featuring soft lighting, plush velvet furnishings, and a stylish polished bar. The space appears vacant as though anticipating some thrilling event. Just then, the camera transitions to the entrance where Seoyeon, dressed in purple office attire, cautiously opens the sturdy wooden door and enters.

"Oh! Hello to you all," she greets the cameras as she spots them one by one with a bow.

She's immediately astounded by the stunning visuals of the bar, taking in every detail with wide eyes and a sense of wonder.

"Wow... This place is amazing," she comments as she walks further into the bar, her voice filled with awe.

As Seoyeons steps further inside, she takes in the beautiful surroundings of the bar, with its elegant decor and welcoming atmosphere. The excitement on her face becomes even more visible as she explores the space as if it’s her first time.

After a few steps, she ends up in a large room adorned with a mesmerizing crystal chandelier that shimmers with a soft, enchanting glow.

"Whoa..." she breathes out in amazement as she gazes at the chandelier and everything surrounding it, fascinated by the room’s grandeur. "This is beautiful."

Walking deeper into the room, she gazes at every intricate detail adorning the space until she reaches the bar counter. A man in a sleek suit is standing behind it, carefully polishing a glass. Her arrival draws his eyes and he looks up with a courteous smile.

"Good day to you, miss," the man greets Seoyeon, his voice smooth and inviting.

The lady in purple responds with a gentle nod and a shy smile. "And to you, sir."

"I would assume that you are here for the challenge?" the man asks curiously.

"Ah, yes. I am," she replies, sounding nervous.

"I see," he says as he puts down the glass. "I was told to assist you."

Seoyeon smiles and nods with a delighted look on her face.

"Nice to meet you!" she tells him with a slight bow, her tone sweet and full of energy.

"Likewise. I look forward to working with you," he replies, his tone warm & welcoming.

Seoyeon then lets out a soft chuckle, as if excited for what's about to come.

"So… what are we supposed to do?" she asks.

"I'm afraid I don't have the answer, Miss," he replies. "I was told to wait for further instructions."

"Ohh..." she nods her head. "Maybe it's something related to mixing cocktails? Or how to toss drinks?"

He chuckles softly. "Perhaps you're right."

"Or... It could be just about drinking a lot," she makes a quick jest, laughing nervously at her joke.

"Well, that is something that I certainly wouldn't mind," the bartender smiles at her playful remark before gesturing to take a seat at the bar. "Please, do have a seat."

Seoyeon heeds his invitation and settles on a stool nearest to him.

"Thank you," she replies as she makes herself comfortable.

"So, do you drink?" he asks her politely.

"I do, but not that much," she confesses, her cheeks blushing.

"I see," he responds with a smile. "Would you like a drink?"

She nods gratefully. "Of course. Something light, please."

The bartender nods and starts preparing a drink for the lady in front of him.

"I'll make you a nice mojito," he says, reaching for the mint leaves and muddling them gently in the glass.

"Oh, I love mojitos!" Seoyeon exclaims as she hears his suggestion. "They're so good."

"They do. Yeah," he nods as he pours the different ingredients into the glass, mixing them skillfully.

Seoyeon observes closely as the bartender skillfully moves his hands, impressed by his mastery. He can’t help but smile at the sight of her patiently observing his craft, a hint of satisfaction visible in his eyes. As he completes the mojito and places it gracefully in front of Seoyeon, he leans in closer, speaking in a soft tone.

"Here you go," he tells her, his eyes fixed on hers. "The best mojito you’ll ever have.”

"Why thank you," she giggles as she reaches for the glass and takes a slow sip, savoring the refreshing taste on her lips.

The bartender observes Seoyeon as she sips the mojito, his gaze focused on her parted lips as they touch the rim of the glass.

"So how is it?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Wow... It's good," she replies in a soft, appreciative tone. "I've never had a mojito like this before."

"Thank you very much," he responds with a satisfied smile. "I'm glad you enjoy it."

"It's very sweet and minty," she adds, her eyes twinkling with delight. "You can’t even taste the alcohol!"

The bartender giggles at her observation and gives her a nod. Her delighted reaction to the drink almost made him blush. She may be an awesome performer, but her fans are mostly drawn by her innocence towards a lot of things.

As Seoyeon continues to enjoy her mojito, they hear a ring coming from a monitor at the end of the counter, grabbing their attention. As they turn their heads toward it, a message pops up on the screen, causing their curious eyes to meet once again.

"What is that?" she asks curiously.

"That must be the challenge we should take," he replies, his voice filled with intrigue.

They read the following message together that appeared on the screen;

“SPOTLIGHTING CHALLENGE: LOVE IN THE CLUB

Learn how to be the best bartender!

Your partner will teach you the basics about mixing cocktails. It’s up to you to make the best drink ever!

You have 3 hours to prepare your drink.

Your partner will taste your cocktail. He will provide you with the result.

GOOD LUCK AND HAVE FUN!"

The screen then transitions into a countdown timer set for 3 hours.

— Digi stopped here but may continue if he has time tomorrow —

"Ooh..." Seoyeon mutters in surprise, her eyebrows raising and her eyes widening. "Cocktail mixing?"

"Indeed," he responds with a smile. "You seem interested."

"Ah, well… You can say that," she replies humbly, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.

"That’s good to hear," he responds, his voice tinged with warmth.

"So, what’s up first?" she asks, eyes bright with excitement.

"Well, for starters… Head over here," he answers, gesturing to come closer.

"Ah, right," Seoyeon says, embarrassed. She then walks around the counter and approaches the bartender.

"Now, I will be teaching you about mixing drinks," he says, his voice tinged with pride.

"Okay, what's the first thing I need to do?" she asks, sounding enthusiastic.

"First, we'll need to prepare the ingredients," he answers.

"Got it."

"You might want to take off your jacket. It might get stained."

"Ah! My bad," Seoyeon chuckles as she removes her blazer and tosses it far from the bartender's workspace.

The video then transitions to a brief montage as Seoyeon and the bartender begin preparing the ingredients for her first few cocktails. They combine liquids and fruits in a shaker, shaking it vigorously to create a distinct sound of ice and liquid blending together. As she continues mixing, they sample each cocktail with small sips, engaging cheerfully while bonding over this interesting activity.

"Mmm, it's quite good," the bartender remarks. "I think it needs a little more ice."

"Okay," Seoyeon nods. "So that’s what it only needs?"

"Yes," he confirms. "A few more ice cubes and it will be perfect."

"Alright. That seems easy," she responds, a small smile gracing her lips.

They continue mixing more drinks, making slight adjustments here and there until they've created a cocktail that both of them are satisfied with.

"Now, let's see if you can make this," he says, handing her a shaker and a glass.

"Sure, I'll give it a try," she responds with a determined expression.

She pours the ingredients into the shaker, shaking it with great care. She then tests the drink, taking a small sip.

"Oh wow!" she exclaims. "Whoo! That's good!"

"Thank you," he says with a warm laugh. "It's something I prepared before you arrive."

"Kinda strong for me but yes! I like it!" she remarks, a pleased expression on her face.

"Do you think you can recreate it?" he asks, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Seoyeon then ponders his question, scratching her head.

"I'm not going to tell you its ingredients, though,” he tells her with a firm tone in his voice. “But it's an easy one so you should be able to figure it out," he adds, trying to reassure her..

"Okay. I guess I can try…" Seoyeon nods as she thinks deeply.

The lady in purple then starts to carefully examine the different ingredients and liquors that are laid out in front of her. She carefully examines each one, trying to determine what could be in the cocktail she was just served.

"Hmmm," she murmurs to herself, her eyes scanning the bottles. "Maybe this will... No, that's not it."

"It’s okay, Seoyeon. Take your time," he urges her, smiling encouragingly.

"Do you think I can make it before the time ends?" she asks him curiously.

The bartender chuckles. "We barely just started, Miss."

"That's true," she replies, laughing lightly.

"There's still plenty of time, so take your time and do the best that you can," he reassures her, making her not rush things.

Seoyeon then returns to the task, now focused on recreating the cocktail she tried earlier. She carefully examines the ingredients, trying to identify their significance. After selecting a few key items, she adds them to the shaker and starts mixing under the watchful eye of the bartender who provides support and guidance.

"I'm not sure if this is correct, but let's see," Seoyeon tells herself as she tests the concoction.

After tasting her work, a delighted expression appears on her face.

"Mmmh. That's pretty good," she exclaims, looking rather pleased.

"Is it? Let me try," the bartender says as he takes the glass from her.

He then samples her creation and a pleased expression appears on his face as well.

"It is quite good. Good job," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth.

"Really? Thank you," Seoyeon smiles happily.

"However, I believe you missed a few things," the man says, his voice laced with a bit of teasing.

"Is that so?" she asks, a mix of interest and intrigue.

"What you just recreated is a Long Island iced tea. Very popular in the US," he explains, a smile tugging on his lips. "You missed adding a bit of gin."

"Ooh, that's what it is," Seoyeon responds, sounding impressed.

"Yes," he replies, nodding his head. "So how do you feel after learning a bit about mixing drinks?"

"It was quite fun," Seoyeon remarks, her face flushed with excitement. "I enjoyed it."

"I'm glad to hear it," the man tells her. "Should we proceed to your challenge? Maybe you would like to learn more, perhaps?"

"Can you teach me more?" Seoyeon inquires, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"I could," the bartender answers with a smile. "But you look like you had enough drinks."

The camera focuses on her face, showing her rosy cheeks and glossy eyes, signs of being drunk. She scrambles to check his claims, putting her palms on her cheeks.

"I'm fine. I'm not drunk yet," she retorts, laughing, as if embarrassed.

"Are you sure? The ones you drink are pretty strong," he asks, his eyes narrowing at her, a playful smile dancing on his lips.

"I'm sure," she answers, her voice tinged with certainty. "I'm fine—hic!"

She covers her mouth, embarrassed, hiding her hiccup.

"There we go," the man tells her, his voice soft yet firm.

"N-no. I'm not..." she stammers, trying to hold back another hiccup.

"Well, you are," he insists, his tone playful.

"I-I'm not... Agh!" she tries again as she slowly shows frustration in her state.

"It's alright, Seoyeon. You can be honest," he encourages her, his voice gentle and kind.

"But I'm not. Really," she tries to convince him.

"You sure you are not drunk, yet?"

"No. Yes. I mean—hic! Aww, man!" she hiccups again, a small smile playing on her lips.

The bartender laughs lightly, amused by her stubbornness.

"See, Seoyeon. You're not fine at all," he tells her, his voice filled with warmth. "You've had enough."

"But I want to learn more!" she insists, her voice filled with determination. "We still have some time left."

"We can do that later, okay?" the bartender assures her. "After all, you can't mix drinks if you're drunk."

"Hmmm... I guess you're right," Seoyeon replies, nodding slowly.

"Alright. Let's take a rest over there," he points at a plush couch placed in a corner of the room.

"Okay… Nghh…" she replies, groaning.

"Come, follow me," he says as he gestures for her to walk.

They then make their way towards the couch. Despite having a few drinks, she moves steadily yet he follows closely beside her, supporting her as she goes. Soon after, they both take a seat on the couch, sitting closely next to each other.

"This couch is nice and comfy," Seoyeon observes, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"It is, isn't it?" the bartender comments, his tone soft and warm.

"Yeah," she nods her head.

He then offers her a glass of water, which she accepts gratefully.

"Thank you," she tells him, her voice tinged with gratitude.

"You're welcome," he replies, his voice gentle and soothing.

Seoyeon takes a sip of water and leans her head back against the couch.

"So... How do you find bartending?" he asks her, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Well, it's been fun so far," Seoyeon tells him, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Glad to hear that," he replies, his eyes meeting hers.

"I'm learning new things with your help," she adds, her tone grateful.

"Anything for a cute customer like you," the bartender compliments her, and a warm smile can be seen on his face.

"You flatter me," Seoyeon responds, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Hey. Your face is getting redder," he teases her.

Embarrassed, she tries to cover her cheeks with her hands. "That's because you're flattering me!"

"No need to be embarrassed, though," he tells her, his voice gentle and understanding. "It's the alcohol's doing."

"Ah, yeah... I'm a little bit tipsy, I guess," she admits, her voice filled with sheepishness.

"Just a little bit?"

"Yeah! I'm not drunk!" she argues.

"Really? Because you're hiccuping a lot."

"But I'm not—hic!"

The bartender laughs. "There it is again."

"Ugh. I can't help it," she groans, sounding frustrated.

"Well, I'm sure you can," the bartender counters. "Maybe you just need some help."

"Help? How?" she inquires, her voice curious and hopeful.

"You see... They say kissing helps stop hiccups," the man replies, his voice low and suggestive.

Seoyeon chuckles at hearing his explanation. "Is that so?"

"It does," he insists. "But only if you want to stop it."

"I don't believe you," she retorts, her voice playful.

"Well, then... Shall we find out?" the man offers.

"Fine. Go ahead," she gives in, her voice tinged with a hint of teasing.

The man then leans closer, his face just inches away from hers. You can see her blushing cheeks and biting her lips. He then slowly brings his lips closer to hers, stopping just a hair's breadth away.

"Ready, Miss?" he whispers.

"Mhmm," she nods her head. “Go ahead.”

Seoyeon closes her eyes, waiting patiently for the kiss to happen. But the bartender has other plans. He moves his lips to the side of her mouth and kisses her cheek.

"Ah?" she sighs, her eyes fluttering open.

"Not there, right?" the bartender teases her, a playful grin appearing on his lips.

"Oh, you!" she giggles, slapping his arm playfully.

"My bad," he says, giggling. He then leans in once more. "Here, let me try again."

His lips finally land on hers, kissing her. They start slowly, moving their lips against each other gently and sensually. The two of them eventually get lost in the moment, enjoying the taste of each other's lips. After a while, they pull apart, gasping for air.

"There. Better?" the bartender asks.

Seoyeon examines herself, finding no more hiccups. She then smiles, looking at him with bright eyes.

"Yes," she breathes out, her voice filled with relief. "I think it worked."

"Well that's great," he responds, a pleased smile forming on his face.

The two looked at each other for a moment, a comfortable silence falling over them.

"I hope it won't come back," she says, her voice low and soft.

"It won't," he assures her, chuckling.

"Are you sure?" she asks him, her eyes locked at his’.

"Maybe... But why don't we make sure it won't?" he suggests, smirking.

Seoyeon's face flushes even redder, and she quickly averts her gaze.

"Hmmm…" she trails off, a slight tremble in her voice. “I guess we can try.”

The bartender's eyes then travel along the contours of her face, his gaze settling on her lips. He then leans closer, his nose brushing against hers.

"Shall we try it again?" he asks, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Seoyeon's breathing hitches and her heart pounds in her chest.

"Sure," she answers breathlessly.

He then brings his lips to hers and begins kissing her deeply. Their tongues immediately tangle together as their lips move in sync, like a romantic dance. His hand caresses the nape of her neck, while her hands rest on his shoulders, holding him close. As their lips continue to collide, their bodies become even closer. He gently pushes her body down, making her lean on the sofa, his lips never leaving hers.

"Mmmh... Fuck," she moans against his mouth.

The bartender's kisses eventually trail down her chin and neck. The sensation of his lips against her skin sends her shivering, and she can't help but whimper softly.

"You like that?" the bartender murmurs against her neck, his voice deep and seductive.

"That feels good," she breathes out, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire.

"Want me to do it more?" he asks, his lips tracing a line along her jaw.

"Yeah... Mnhh…" she nods, her voice heavy with lust.

As his lips trail down her neck, he gently bites her skin, eliciting a soft moan from her.

"Ah! That's... Ohh!" she cries out, her voice shaky and breathless.

He continues kissing her neck, leaving small bite marks all over her.

"You smell so good, Seoyeon," he breathes against her ear, making her shudder.

"Thank you—oh fuck!" she moans, her head rolling back.

His hands then begin exploring her body. They caress her curves and trace the outline of her breasts. He gropes and fondles them through the thin fabric of her shirt, making her whimper in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice dripping with lust.

"Ahh... I was about to say the same thing," she responds, her voice laced with desire.

"I'm happy to please," he murmurs, his lips brushing against her ear.

"And I'm glad to be pleased," she whispers back, her eyes locking onto his.

He then kisses her passionately, his tongue pushing inside her mouth.

"Mmmh!" she moans, her hands tangling in his hair.

Like a hungry animal, he hastily unbuttons her blouse, revealing her luscious breasts hidden behind a red lace bra.

"Shit, Seoyeon... These are perfect," he whispers, his voice hoarse and thick with desire.

"Looks like you're loving the view," she purrs, her eyes locked onto his.

"Oh, yeah. You're a fucking goddess," he replies, his gaze full of lust.

He then places his hand on her breasts and squeezes them, making her moan in pleasure. He then kisses her neck and licks the shell of her ear, his tongue flicking and teasing her sensitive skin.

"Mmmh! Fuck... Yes," she moans, her breathing ragged and labored.

"Do you like that, Seoyeon?" he growls, his lips trailing down her neck.

"Yeah! I love it," she moans, her voice heavy and desperate.

"Then let me show you something else you'll love," he growls, his eyes glinting with lust.

He then moves his hand between her legs and gently separates her thighs, revealing the matching red panties underneath.

"Oh fuck," she mutters, her voice filled with anticipation.

He slowly runs his fingers over her panties, teasing her through the thin fabric.

"You're so wet, Seoyeon," he whispers, his voice dripping with desire.

"You're the one who did this," she retorts, her voice filled with desire.

"Blaming me for it, huh?"

"Y-yes," she breathes out, her voice weak and shaky. "You're the one who has his hands all over me."

"Well, you're the one who looks so irresistible," he counters, his lips tracing the outline of her ear.

She moans, her voice quivering and breathless.

"Ah! Ohh... Fuck me," she whimpers, her voice heavy and pleading.

"Gladly," he growls, smiling.

With her permission, his hand dips between her legs and pushes her panties aside. Her partner is left breathless at the sight of her wet lips. But that didn’t stop him from rubbing his thumb against her inviting folds, making her whimper to his touch.

"Oh! Fuck, you're such a tease," Seoyeon comments, a slight snicker forming on her face.

His fingers continue to attack her sensitive bud, her toes curling as her grip on the couch tightens.

"Mmmm... Fuck," she mutters, her voice strained.

"You like that, huh?" he growls, his eyes dark and filled with lust.

"Oh, yeah," she moans, her body squirming and trembling.

He continues rubbing her wet folds, his fingers expertly pleasuring her.

"You're so fucking sexy, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice thick with lust.

"Aah! Fuck! Fuck!" she cries out, her body writhing in pleasure.

"On your limit already?" he smirks.

"N-no! I'm just—ooh... So good," she whimpers, her voice breathless and shaky.

He chuckles at her reaction and continues pleasuring her, his fingers rubbing her sensitive flesh.

"Ah! Oh fuck," she cries out, her body writhing in ecstasy.

"My... Aren't you sensitive?" he teases, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Fuck off... Mhnn..."

He then slips a finger inside her wet pussy, making her gasp and moan.

"S-shit! That feels good!" she breathes, her voice shaky and weak.

"Looks like I hit a spot, huh?" he whispers, his voice thick with lust.

"Yeah! Mmmm... Don't stop," she moans, her body trembling and quivering.

He slides his finger deeper into her, his thumb rubbing her sensitive clit.

"Fucking hell! Oh shit," she gasps as her hips buck in the air.

"How does that feel, huh?" he growls at her, his voice thick with lust.

"W-what do you think? Mmmh!" she moans out.

"I bet it feels good," he says, his voice dripping with lust.

"Yeah! It does," she gasps out, her body squirming and trembling. "Now, hurry up and make me cum."

He smirks.

"With pleasure," he whispers, his voice low and seductive.

Suddenly, the camera cuts to a wide-angle shot, and you can see both the bartender's and Seoyeon's expressions change dramatically. The man's eyes widen, and his mouth falls open as he stares at the beautiful sight before him. Meanwhile, Seoyeon's face is contorted with pleasure as she moans loudly and squirms on the couch, her body arching and writhing uncontrollably. They look like they're in a state of pure bliss, a mesmerizing scene of intense intimacy and raw desire.

"Aah! Your… Your thing is—oh fuck!"

Seoyeon's loud, sensual cry fills the room as her body trembles and quivers, her pussy clenching and convulsing around the bartender's fingers. The bartender looks down at her in amazement, his face flushed with arousal and his eyes dark with lust.

"Getting close, are we?" the bartender asks, his voice dripping with desire.

"Yeah. I'm gonna cum soon," Seoyeon breathes, her voice shaking and quivering.

"You like this, don't you?"

"Fuck yeah... I do."

"Damn, you're incredible," he whispers to her ear, his voice hoarse and strained.

She lets out a weak, satisfied chuckle.

"I aim to please," she tells him, a playful tinge in her voice.

The bartender chuckles and leans down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Their tongues once again meet in a passionate dance, their bodies pressed close together. As their intense make-out session goes on, so do his fingers, pumping in and out of her pussy.

"Oh shit… Let it out, Seoyeon," he commands her, his voice husky and thick with lust.

Seoyeon's breathing becomes heavy and erratic, her body quivering and squirming under his touch. She whimpers and moans, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.

"I-I'm so close…" Seoyeon whimpers, her voice filled with desire.

"Then come for me," he growls, his voice dark and husky.

He pumps his fingers in and out of her pussy faster and faster, making her body tremble and convulse.

"Yes! Yes! Oh fuck! Yes!" she screams, her body arching and quivering in ecstasy.

"There. Let go, Seoyeon," he encourages her, his voice low and commanding.

"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna—oh fuck! I'm cumming!"

Seoyeon's body suddenly shudders and convulses as her orgasm hits her hard, sending her reeling in ecstasy. Her pussy clenches and convulses around his fingers, her juices spraying everywhere. She can be naughty at times, especially around her fellow members. But her current display of eroticism is on a whole different level.

"Mmmh! Ooh! Ohh! Fuck! Oh fuck!" she screams, her body writhing and shuddering in pleasure.

Her eyes roll back and her mouth falls open as she loses herself in the throes of pleasure, her body spasming and quivering uncontrollably. Her loud cries of pleasure and ecstasy fill the room as she rides the waves of her orgasm, her pussy clenching and convulsing around his fingers.

After what seems like an eternity, her orgasm subsides. The bartender looks at her, his eyes dark and lustful, while Seoyeon's are glazed and unfocused. They remain motionless for a few moments, both catching their breath.

"How was that, hmmm?" the bartender whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"Oh f-fuck... It was incredible," Seoyeon tells him, her voice hoarse and shaky.

"You were amazing, Seoyeon," he responds, his voice heavy with desire.

"Thanks. You too," she replies, her breathing still labored and uneven.

"I'm glad I was able to please you," the bartender murmurs, his lips brushing against her neck.

Seoyeon shudders at his touch, her body still tingling from her orgasm.

"Nghh… Y-you definitely did," she breathes, her voice quivering and weak.

"Well, it's only natural for me to reciprocate," he chuckles, his voice low and seductive.

"Is that so?" she asks, breathless and husky.

"Mhmm," he hums, his lips trailing down her neck.

"I guess I should pay back the favor, then," she tells him, her voice heavy with desire.

The bartender then lays himself back on the couch, his hands crossed his head.

"Go ahead, then," he whispers, his voice dark and husky. "The floor's yours."

A smirk then forms on her face, her eyes burning with lust.

"Gladly."

Without hesitation, she proceeds to unbutton his pants. She works slowly and methodically, teasing him through his boxers. The bartender's breathing hitches and he bites his lip, watching her intently. Once she has unbuttoned his pants, she slides both his pants and boxers off, freeing his hardened member, already glistening with precum.

"Oh my," she coos, her voice dripping with lust.

She then leans down and takes a close look at his cock, her eyes studying it intently.

"See anything you like?" the bartender teasingly asks.

"Yeah, I do," Seoyeon answers, biting her lips.

"Why won't you indulge yourself, then?"

"If you insist," she tells him, her voice low and seductive.

Without hesitation, she begins playing with his dick, stroking and squeezing it with her hands. She licks her lips and leans down, kissing his shaft from top to bottom. Her movements are slow and sensual, making sure he feels every single one. He gasps and groans, his cock twitching and pulsing. She then takes the tip of his member into her mouth, planting a kiss before sucking on it gently.

"Mmmh, yes... That's it," the bartender murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"You like that?" Seoyeon asks, her voice low and husky.

"Yeah. Keep going," the bartender breathes, smiling, his eyes closed and his head tilted back.

Seoyeon giggles and resumes her actions, slowly sliding his entire length into her mouth. She gags slightly at first but quickly recovers and starts sucking and licking his cock, slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Fuck... You're so good at this," the bartender grunts, his hands gripping her hair.

"Mhmm," she moans, the sound vibrating against his member. "Dho yu luhv ith?"

"Fuck, yeah. Don't stop," he growls, his voice husky and full of desire.

As instructed, Seoyeon increases her speed and sucks harder, taking his cock as deep into her mouth as she can. The bartender groans and grunts, his body twitching and spasming.

"Ooh, Seoyeon. Just like that. That's so good," he pants, his voice heavy with lust.

Seoyeon hums in acknowledgment, sending a pleasurable vibration against his cock. She continues sucking and licking his hard shaft, her movements becoming more frantic and desperate.

"Shit, Seoyeon. You're amazing," the bartender groans, his body tensing up.

She keeps her pace and continues sucking and licking his member. The bartender seems to be getting closer and closer to climaxing, his body twitching and his cock throbbing. Suddenly, he grabs her hair and forces her head down, making her take his entire length into her mouth, taking her by surprise.

"Mbph? Mphh?!"

"Yes. Just like that. Suck that cock," he growls, his voice heavy and strained.

"Mmmh!! Mlph! Mlrgh! Mrrrh!"

She gags and coughs, but continues sucking and licking. She places her hands on his thighs, holding on tightly, determined to make him cum. In response, the bartender's hips begin thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth.

"Oh, fuck, yes. That's it, Seoyeon. Just like that," the bartender grunts, his voice low and strained.

He continues fucking her mouth, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. The room is filled with the ecstatic sounds of Seoyeon choking and gagging on his cock, their bodies twitching and writhing.

"Shit, Seoyeon. I'm close," the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.

"Mrph?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna cum. Get ready," he groans, his hips thrusting and spasming.

The bartender then slows his movements, letting her suck his cock at her own pace. With one hand on her head, he guides her head up and down, almost at the same pace as his', taking his member into her mouth with ease. Her tongue swirls around the tip of his member, making him grunt and groan. This synchronous motion of pure pleasure unravels in front of the camera, the erotic act being captured in all its glory.

"Oh, shit. Yeah. Keep going. I'm gonna cum," the bartender growls, his breathing erratic and labored.

"Mhmm, mmmh," Seoyeon nods, her eyes closed, her mind focused on her task.

"Here it comes! Urgh! Fuck!" the bartender cries out, his body trembling and shuddering.

Seoyeon's movements become more frantic and desperate, her pace matching the bartender's. Suddenly, the bartender grabs her head with both hands and pulls it towards his body, forcing his cock deep into her throat. She gags and chokes as his cum sprays into her mouth and down her throat, making her eyes roll back in her head.

"Hahh… Fucking hell," the bartender pants, his breathing heavy and uneven.

He thrusts a few more times, emptying his load into her mouth. You can see in Seoyeon's face that she's swallowing his thick, warm seed, not letting a single drop of it go to waste. But it seems too much for her and she pulls out, coughing and gagging, cum spilling out of her mouth.

"Mmph! Ghck! Gah!"

"Fuck! Sorry, Seoyeon. I couldn't help it," the bartender says sheepishly.

She continues to cough and splutter, the bartender patting her back.

"Are you alright?" he asks, sounding concerned.

"Y-yeah. I'm… I’m fine," she replies, a bit of frustration in her voice.

"I may have overdone it," the bartender laughs, his tone light and cheerful.

"No kidding," she chuckles, her voice raspy. “You almost choked me.”

Seoyeon then swallows what's left of his cum inside his mouth, a satisfied smile on her face. He looks at her with utter awe, amazed at how a small lady like her was able to take his load.

"Fuck. That was hot," the bartender compliments her.

"Thank you," Seoyeon says, licking her lips. "That was quite fun, you know?"

The bartender nods in agreement. "Fuck… You're just making me want you even more."

Seoyeon chuckles. "Looks like someone wants more."

"What can I say? Thinking about what else you can do... It's making me crazy," he tells her, his voice husky and seductive.

She blushes and bites her lips. "I guess I'll have to find out for myself, huh?"

"I can help you with that," the bartender smirks as his hand reaches for his dick, stroking it back to life. To her amusement, it doesn’t take long before her shaft stands up on its own, tall and hard as it was.

She lets out a soft, breathless chuckle. "Well, aren't you energetic?"

"For you? It's a given," he replies, smirking.

"That flattery will get you anywhere," she grins.

"I'm sure it will," the bartender replies. "But for now…"

He suddenly leans in, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers. His hand lands on one of the buttons of her blouse, ready to unclasp it. Their breathing becomes more shallow, adding to the tension in the room.

"This is where I want to be."

Seoyeon is seemingly satisfied with his response, evident in the slight curve of her lips as she looks into his eyes, anticipating his next move.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she hums, her voice soft and sultry.

The bartender's finger slowly slips through the first button, and the second one, then the third. The thrill makes Seoyeon shiver in excitement, reaching for his lips with hers. Eventually, he reaches the last one, and the bartender finally opens her blouse, revealing a red lace bra as her blouse slides down her shoulders, the thin fabric caressing her skin.

He takes a deep breath, his gaze filled with hunger. He immediately cups one of her breasts, massaging it, his lips then trail down her neck.

"Mmmh!" Seoyeon hums, her body quivering.

He then reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, making her gasp in surprise.

"Red suits you, Seoyeon," he breathes, his voice heavy with desire.

"Really now?" she chuckles, her voice low and seductive.

"I mean it. You look stunning."

She blushes. "Well, thank you—wah!"

The bartender then interrupts her by pulling off her bra, his eyes gazing upon her bare breasts. They're full and supple, perfectly proportioned for her size.

"Oh, wow…" he breathes out in wonder of the mounds of flesh before his eyes.

"Why you..." she chuckles, still shocked by his sudden move. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

The bartender smiles sheepishly and leans forward, his face hovering above her breast.

“You look good, Seoyeon,” the bartender comments, his voice dripping with lust. “They really look good.”

"They're not much, really," she shrugs, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Are you kidding? They're gorgeous," the bartender counters, his tone sincere.

"I guess..." she trails off, biting her lips.

"Do you mind if I touch them?"

"And what will you do if I don't?" she challenges him, her eyes burning with desire.

He doesn't answer her and instead proceeds to grab one of her breasts, kneading it softly.

"Mmmh," she hums, her voice heavy and sultry.

"Is this enough for an answer?"

"Maybe… For now," she answers, giggling.

His fingers pinch her nipple, a soft moan escapes her lips. His other hand then massages her other breast, making her gasp and whimper.

"Aah... Y-you're a bit rough, aren't you?" she mutters, her voice strained.

"Am I? I'll try to be gentler, then," he responds, his voice low and husky.

"Don't even try," she says, her voice hoarse and strained.

The bartender smiles and continues playing with her breasts, his movements becoming rougher and more aggressive.

"Hah! Aah!" she cries out, her body arching and shuddering.

His lips then find their way to her breasts, leaving kisses and bite marks all over them.

"S-shit," she moans, her voice quivering and weak.

"Does it feel good, Seoyeon?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.

"F-fuck yeah," she breathes, her voice heavy and strained.

"Do you like it when I play with these?" he whispers, his lips brushing against her ear.

"O-of course," she moans, her voice hoarse and breathless.

"Would you like me to do it some more?"

"Fuck yes..."

"As you wish," he replies, a sly grin forming on his face.

The bartender then places both of his hands on her breasts, squeezing and groping them.

"Mmmh! Ahh!"

"Your breasts are so soft, Seoyeon," he coos as he firmly gropes them, his voice low and husky.

"Ooh! Oh f-fuck," she gasps from his touch, her voice strained and shaky.

"Tell me how it feels."

"Amazing... Mmmh, yeah," she breathes, her eyes fluttering. "I love it."

"That's good," the bartender grins, his voice low and sultry.

His lips then trail down her body, his hands exploring her curves. He eventually stops at her skirt, his fingers slowly unzipping it.

"Let's get this off, shall we?"

"Yes, please," she nods, her voice weak and breathless.

He removes her skirt and panties in one go, leaving her fully naked in front of him. He tosses it high in the air, his gaze fixed on her pussy.

"Now, that's a sight," the bartender growls at the marvelous view, his eyes wide and filled with lust.

"You like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

"You know I do," the bartender replies, his voice thick and husky.

She chuckles. "I figured you would."

He takes a step forward and runs his finger along her slit, making her whimper and squirm.

"You look breathtaking," the bartender murmurs, his eyes filled with hunger.

"Mmmh, yeah. That feels nice," she sighs, her body squirming.

"Do you want more?" he asks, his finger slowly tracing her wet folds.

"Y-yeah... I need it," she moans, her voice breathless and desperate.

"Tell me what you need," the bartender asks, grinning.

"I need you. I need you inside me," she whimpers, her face flushed and her breathing labored.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I fucking want it,” she begs, her voice hoarse and strained.

“Hmmm... Well, then,” the bartender grins, satisfied by her response.

“Please… Oh fucking please…”

Before he gives in to Seoyeon's pleas, he looks at the timer displayed on the monitor. There's less than an hour left before the challenge begins.

"Well, I guess we have some more time," the bartender tells her, a mischievous grin forming on his face.

"Then why don't we make the most of it?" she asks, her voice low and seductive. She spreads her legs wide open, showing him her glistening wet folds.

"Why, that’s a good idea."

He then stands up and starts taking off his clothes, wildly throwing each piece aside. Soon, he's completely naked in front of her. Seoyeon's eyes widen and she bites her lips as she watches this display, her gaze travels along his body. She takes in his muscles and broad shoulders, his strong arms and abs, and finally, his cock, already hard and twitching.

"Like what you see?" he asks, his voice dripping with desire.

"Definitely," she answers with a devilish smirk.

The bartender smirks and leans forward, his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers'. His hand finds its way to her hair, tangling in her long black locks.

"I can't fucking wait any longer," he growls, his voice husky and filled with lust.

"Me neither," she pants, her voice heavy and breathless.

"How do you want it, Seoyeon? How do you want me?"

She bites her lips and smiles.

"Surprise me," she challenges him.

"Oh, I intend to."

Without another word, he pushes her down, making her lay flat on her back. He then climbs on top of her and positions himself between her legs. He leans forward and grabs her wrists, pinning her down.

"Oh fuck," she breathes, her body trembling.

"Ready for this?" the bartender asks, his voice dark and husky.

"Yes... Fuck me like you mean it," she commands him, her voice filled with desire.

He prepares himself, pressing his length against her wetness.

"As you wish," the bartender tells her, his voice low and husky.

Without further hesitation, he plunges his cock into her pussy, making her scream in pleasure.

"Ahh! Oh shit!"

"Yeah, that's right," the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Yes... Oh, you're so big," she groans, her voice strained and shaky.

The bartender then thrusts his hips forward, burying his cock deep inside her, making her scream in pleasure.

"Fuck, you're tight," he breathes, his eyes filled with lust.

"Mmmh, yeah... Give it to me," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.

He grunts and continues pumping his cock in and out of her, his hips slamming against hers. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and convulsing.

"Ohhh... Yes, that's so good," she moans, her voice hoarse and strained.

"Liking it?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

"O-oh, yes," she nods, her face flushed.

"I'll make you feel even better," the bartender promises, his voice low and sultry.

He places his hands on her waist and grips her tightly, his fingers digging into her skin. He amps up his speed, pounding into her harder and faster. She gasps and arches her back, her body squirming and quivering.

"Ohh fuck... Oh fuck!" she screams, her voice breathless and ragged.

"Yeah. That's it, Seoyeon," he growls, his voice low and husky.

"Fuck... You're wrecking my—nghh!" she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.

"I'm gonna destroy your pussy," the bartender tells her, his voice thick and hoarse.

"Ooh, f-fuck me..." she whimpers, her eyes rolling back.

He then grabs her legs and lifts them, making her wrap them around his waist. He thrusts his cock deeper into her, his pace relentless.

"There we go," he grunts, his voice hoarse and heavy.

"Fuck, yes! Harder!" she cries out, her body arching and spasming. "Fuck me harder!"

He continues his assault, his hips slamming against hers' repeatedly, his cock pistoning in and out of her.

"Yes... Oh fuck... Mmmh, just like that," she whimpers, her voice breathless and ragged.

"Ugh... Your pussy is getting tighter," he growls, his body tensing up.

"Y-you... Your cock..." she stutters, her words failing her.

"Yeah? You like my cock, huh?"

"I-it'sh getting... Even bigger inshide me... Mnhh," she mewls out, her voice starting to become slurry.

"Yeah. Take that fucking cock," he growls, his voice filled with desire.

"Yesh... Oh fuhg..."

Her eyes roll back, her body twitching and spasming. Seoyeon starts to drool from her mouth, her eyes glazed and unfocused. Her hands grip his arms tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

"Nghh... You're close, aren't you?" the bartender asks, his voice gruff and rough.

"Hngg! Oh s-shit!" she cries out, her body arching and squirming.

He suddenly slows down his pace, making her whine in frustration.

"What the fuck—Mngh?!"

He then leans forward and kisses her passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth. He keeps a steady pace, his cock moving in and out of her slowly, driving her mad. She moans and whimpers, her body writhing and trembling.

"I fuhging lhuv dish," Seoyeon says, her words slurred, her voice barely audible.

"Oh? And what else do you love, hmm?"

"F-fuhking me... Fuhking my pushy," she tells him, her voice breathless and shaky.

"You love this, huh?" he asks, teasing her with slow yet powerful thrusts.

"Yesh... So m-mush," she moans, her voice weak and strained.

"I'll make you love it even more, then," the bartender growls as he pounds her harder, his pace becoming rougher and harder.

"Oh god... I lhuv you," Seoyeon mumbles, her voice weak.

"Mmhm. I love you too," the bartender replies, kissing her again.

Seoyeon wraps her arms around his neck, her nails clawing his skin. Her legs wrap around his waist, her heels digging into his back. The room is filled with the sounds of their flesh slapping together and their lust-filled voices, moaning and groaning as their bodies writhe and grind against each other.

"F-fuck... Oh yesh!"

"Yes. Fuck yes," the bartender growls. "You know you love it."

Despite their paces amping up, their bodies move in perfect sync. Their hips rocking against each other, their rhythm perfect. Non-fans wouldn't think it's their first time being intimate together, their actions are fluid and natural. It's a spectacle to behold.

"Fuck, fuck... Mhhh! I'm gonna..."

"You wanna cum, Seoyeon?"

"Y-yeah. I wanna cum so bad!"

"Then come," he whispers into her ear. "Come for me, Seoyeon."

"I'm... I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm c-cumming!"

Her body tenses up, her back arching. She screams in ecstasy as her orgasm hits her, her pussy clenching and convulsing as she displays another intense orgasm, her juices spraying everywhere.

"Ohh! Oh f-fuck! I-I can't stop cumming! Mmmmh!"

"Fuck yeah... Squirt all over me, Seoyeon," the bartender growls, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Her whole body trembles and shakes, her limbs flailing around uncontrollably. The immense pressure of her orgasm causes his cock to slide out of her.

"Oh, shit! I-I'm cumming again!"

"That's it. Let it all out," the bartender growls, his cock throbbing with arousal.

The petite vixen continues to scream and wail as she climaxes, her body trembling and convulsing. Her juices gush out of her pussy and splash onto the bartender's abdomen, soaking him in her sweet nectar.

"Fuck, you're incredible," the bartender tells her, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Eventually. Seoyeon's fantastic waterworks show subsides, leaving her a trembling, gasping mess. She can barely reply, her mind still hazy from her orgasms.

"Hngh... Mnhh... I..."

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen," he responds, his voice thick and hoarse. The bartender smiles at her, his eyes burning with hunger.

"You... Y-you're..." she mumbles, her words failing her.

"Amazing, right?"

"Y-yeah. You are..."

"Again, I aim to please."

He then leans forward and kisses her once again, softly, his lips brushing against hers. He grabs her breast and squeezes it gently, making a soft moan escape her lips. His tongue gently enters her mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting her sweet juices. Albeit weak from the multiple orgasms she just experienced, she responds in kind. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their tongues dance around each other, their kisses deep and passionate.

"Mmmh… So good," she moans, her voice weak.

His hands roam her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts. His fingers pinch and rub her nipples, making her gasp and whimper.

"You really are gorgeous," he tells her, his voice low and husky.

"Why, you're quite the charmer yourself," she chuckles, breathless and husky.

"Only because you bring it out in me," he grins, his eyes filled with desire.

She giggles. "Why do I think it's not the first time you said that?"

"What makes you say that?" he asks, his voice heavy and seductive.

"I don't know, really," she laughs weakly. "You look like the player type."

He chuckles at her. "I promise you, I'm not a player."

"Whatever you say," she says, giggling.

"But I'd love to play with you," he tells her, his voice low and sultry.

"Mmhm. I'm sure you would," she replies, still catching her breath.

The bartender then leans forward and kisses her again, their tongues dancing around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. They lose themselves in the moment, their movements becoming more frantic and desperate.

"Mhnn... It's your turn, mister," Seoyeon coos, her voice low and seductive.

The bartender smiles and nods, his cock throbbing with arousal. He then carries her to the table next to them and lays her down on it. He positions himself between her legs, his cock pressed against her pussy.

"This is gonna be fun," he growls, his voice low and husky.

Seoyeon smiles at him and wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Do your worst," she tells him, her voice low and sultry.

The bartender then grabs her hips and slides his cock into her wet folds, making her gasp and whimper.

"Mmmh... Fuck, yes..." she moans, her voice heavy and strained.

The bartender then begins thrusting his cock in and out of her, his pace relentless.

"Ahhh! Yes! Oh, fuck..." she cries out, her voice strained and shaky.

He continues to pound into her, his hips slamming against hers. He grunts and groans as he fucks her even harder, his movements becoming faster and more frantic.

"Oh, shit! You feel so fucking good," he growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Fuck yeah... Give me that fucking cock," she moans, her voice heavy and sultry.

"As you wish," he growls as he amps up his speed, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.

"Yes! Oh fuck... Yes!" she screams, her voice strained and shaky.

Her eyes roll back and her body trembles, her orgasm building up inside her.

"Fuck... Oh fuck! Sho beeg!"

The bartender laughs. "I know. You love it, don't you?"

"Yesh! Oh fuck... Yesh I lhuv ith!" she screams, her voice weak and almost incoherent.

He laughs. “I thought so."

He then places his hand on her neck, gently pressing down on her throat.

"Nghk... Mnah!" she yelps, her eyes widening.

"You like this, huh? You like when I choke you?" the bartender growls, his voice thick and husky.

She nods, weakly. "Oh yesh... Choke me hard—Nghh!"

He squeezes her throat tighter, making her gasp. He then leans forward and goes for another passionate kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. Seoyeon can't help but accept it, her lips parting. Their tongues dance around each other, their bodies grinding against each other. As it happens, he revs up his pace, pounding into her harder and faster, his hips slamming against hers.

"Oh shit! Yesh! Jusht like that!" Seoyeon screams, her voice is strained and shaky.

Her body arches and spasms, her nails digging into his skin. His grip around her throat tightens as he continues to fuck her, his thrusts becoming rougher and harder.

"Ohh! Oh fuck... Yesh... Yesh! I'm gonna—oh shit! I'm cumming!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.

"You wanna cum, Seoyeon? You wanna cum all over my cock?" the bartender growls, his voice hoarse and thick with lust.

"Y-yeah... I wanna cum... Oh fuck..." she moans, her voice breathless and strained.

"Let's cum together, then," he growls as he pounds into her relentlessly, his hips slamming against hers'.

"Yesh... Oh yesh! Ghiv it to me!" she screams, her body writhing and convulsing.

"You want my cum so badly, huh?"

"Yesh, pleash!" Seoyeon begs, her voice weak and shaky. "Fill me up with your fucking cum!"

"With pleasure," he breathes out, his tone desperate.

The bartender then repositions himself, he squats on top of Seoyeon with his feet planted firmly on the ground and his hands on her knees, pulling her legs up against his shoulders, allowing him to thrust deeper and harder. This speed is unlike what he’s done to her earlier, this time he's more brutal and animalistic, and his grunts are guttural. Add Seoyeon's wanton screams of pleasure to the mix and it creates an audio-visual treat.

The cameras are capturing such an incredibly indecent act. It's nothing like you've seen in any porn or erotic media. It's primal, it's savage, it's visceral. It's fucking hot.

The bartender's cock pounds into her tight little pussy relentlessly, her body trembling and squirming beneath him. Her eyes roll back and her mouth opens wide in a silent scream, her orgasm building inside her.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" she cries out, her voice hoarse and strained.

"Urgh... I'm close, Seoyeon. You ready?" the bartender grunts, his voice heavy and husky.

"Cum... Ghiv me your cum," she breathes, her voice heavy and sultry.

"You fucking slut," the bartender growls.

"Y-yesh..." she stutters, her eyes rolling back. “I’m your fucking shlut.”

He thrusts his cock into her even faster, his hips slamming against hers. He pounds her as hard as he can, his thrusts becoming rougher and more brutal. His breathing becomes more ragged and erratic, his body tensing up. While Seoyeon lets out an animalistic howl, a guttural noise from the back of her throat, the bartender grunts and groans.

"Here it comes, Seoyeon! I'm gonna—Nrgh!" the bartender growls, his eyes rolling back.

"Pleash! Oh, pleash!" Seoyeon screams, her voice hoarse and shaky.

He lets out a loud groan as his thrust his cock deeper inside her, spurting white stuff all over her pussy’s walls.

"Argh! Take it, Seoyeon!"

"Ohh! Oh fuck, yesh!" Seoyeon screams, her eyes rolling back.

After a few strong thrusts, the bartender's hips come to a sudden halt, then bucks them, as he pours his load inside her. Seoyeon can't do anything but lie there and take his load, her body twitching and shuddering, her moans hoarse and shaky.

"Ooh... Fuck yeah," the bartender groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Ahh... Your cum... Sho mush... Nghhh!" she moans, her voice low and sultry.

"So tight, Seoyeon…" the bartender whispers, his voice thick and husky.

He thrusts his cock in and out of her several more times as if milking his cock dry. Each time he withdraws, a mixture of their fluids coats his shaft before being pushed back in, creating wet sounds as the excess spills out of her.

After a while, the bartender withdraws from her, a large amount of his cum dripping out of her abused pussy. She moans and writhes as he removes himself from her warm folds. And once free, she starts to squirt uncontrollably. Her lewd juices, mixed with his seed, splattered everywhere. She moans and whimpers as she experiences an intense yet silent orgasm, her body convulsing and twitching like something similar to an X-rated movie. It's obscene and vulgar.

"Shit, you're letting out a lot," the bartender breathes.

"Ohh! O-oh god!" she cries out, her body spasming.

The bartender just chuckles and looks at her, a satisfied smile on his face.

After what might be a minute of her uncontrollable orgasm, Seoyeon collapses onto the table, gasping and panting. She's completely spent.

"Damn, that was hot," the bartender breathes.

Seoyeon desperately catches her breath, her chest heaving up and down. Her mind is hazy and cloudy, her thoughts jumbled and unfocused.

"You did great, Seoyeon," he says, patting her head.

Seoyeon doesn't respond, her eyes fluttering.

"It's okay, you can rest now," he assures her.

Suddenly, a loud ring emanates from a distance. The bartender looks at where the sound came from. The camera then switches to the view of the timer. It's up.

"Damn. Time's up," the bartender sighs.

One of the staff members can be heard speaking up.

"Mister bartender... Seoyeon... It's time for the challenge," the staff member informs them.

"Understood," the bartender nods. "However..."

He shifts his attention to Seoyeon, who's still a picture of a blissful, fucked up mess.

"I don't think she can right now," the bartender chuckles.

"But the challenge," the staff member reminds him.

"Well, I don't really have a say in this," he shrugs. "It's her challenge to do, not mine."

The rest of the staff then discuss the current situation with each other. Meanwhile, the bartender checks up on Seoyeon. He cups her cheek, causing her to open her eyes slowly.

"Hey. Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle and concerned.

Seoyeon just responds with a weak smile.

"Can you still do the challenge?"

Looking disappointed, Seoyeon shakes her head, still weak.

"You'll fail the challenge if you don't do it," the bartender warns her, a calm tone to his voice.

"I—ugh... Hahh... My body's too weak to move," she admits, still catching her breath.

"I'm sorry," he tells her. "I didn't mean to get that rough."

"No, it's alright. It was fun, anyway," she tells him, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Thank you," the bartender smiles, relief evident on his face.

"I… I aim to please," she jests, a weak smirk forming on her lips.

The bartender laughs gently.

"So... Are you forfeiting the challenge?" he asks, his tone worried.

"Yeah... I guess I am," Seoyeon admits, looking down.

"That's unfortunate," he sighs.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, her voice low and timid.

"Don't be," he replies, his voice kind and reassuring. "It's not your fault."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," she nods.

The bartender then turns to the rest of the crew, telling them what they just discussed. The staff nods in response.

"Unfortunately, Seoyeon has failed the challenge," the staff informs everyone.

"I'm sorry, everyone," Seoyeon weakly says.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," the staff member tells her. "We hope you still had fun."

"That I did," she smiles. "Thank you."

The timer on the monitor then disappears, followed by a message showing up:

"Sorry, Seoyeon. You failed the challenge. The pair should then proceed to the final area after a signal in a few hours. In the meantime, you can do whatever you want together in this area."

Seoyeon sighs. "That sucks."

"At least you still got to have some fun," the bartender replies.

"Fair point," she smiles. "You sure rocked my world, mister bartender."

"Why, thank you," the bartender chuckles. "But again, I'm sorry," he apologizes, his voice filled with guilt.

"Again, it's fine," she reassures him, her hand reaching for his.

The bartender looks at her hand and smiles. He squeezes her hand lightly in return.

"Well, I'm sure you're still tired from all of that,"

"You got that right," she chuckles.

"Then why don't you get some rest?" he asks, his voice gentle and soothing.

She nods, weakly.

"Thank you," she smiles.

He returns the smile and gently pats her head. Cradling her in his arms, he carries her over to a nearby couch, unblemished by their earlier debauchery. As Seoyeon settles into the plush cushions, she closes her eyes and succumbs to fatigue. Sitting down beside her, the bartender's hand rests on her thigh as he observes her drifting off to sleep. Even as the video fades out, the camera manages to capture Seoyeon's captivating figure; and you can't help but admire every inch of her nude body looking serene in sleep.

A few minor adjustments and another video is ready, revealing their intimate moments for the world to see. As you wrap up the video editing, hunger finally hits you after delaying it for so long. You quickly prepare the next episode of the show before going out to grab a well-deserved meal.

Pretty sure everyone will love to see the “captain” in action.

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Author’s Notes:

Another Spotlighting chapter down and many more to go! Thinking of a plot is easy with Seoyeon, but executing it is what's challenging. Not only am I clueless about her drinking habits, but I'm also clueless how people "make love in this club". 😅 So I might have to apologize if some (if not most) parts of the story are hard to read. Though I still hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter nonetheless.

And again... I would like to thank @digipigichopshop for lending his time in helping me writing this one. As well was @braaan for this really awesome poster. This might be my favorite so far, to be honest. I like what you did with the spotlight effect. 👍

Once more, thank you very much for reading! 🙇

#smut #kpopfanfiction #kpopfanfic #kpopsmut #fromis9smut #seoyeonsmut #leeseoyeonsmut

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