#so he had to pull some strings for the out of pocket pen

[biteyoubiteme]

brrr

seungmin x fem!reader

⊹ ₊ ݁ . ❅ synopsis: friends with benefits either ends in love or indifference. ⸝⸝⸝ warning: fwb, reader and seungmin are toxic/avoidant/mean, not too much aftercare at all, mentions of mensuration, period pain, slight spit kink, mentions of no prep, no protection, creampie(s), oral (f!rec), lots of kissing, minho side character, I probably did forget some this time im so sorry

⊹ ₊ ݁ . ❅ wc: 13.5k ❅ . ݁ ₊ ⊹

❅ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: brrr- kim petras an: this was not my best work pls forgive me ;-; ive had this idea since august last year and im glad I could get it down- this is not proofread im so sorry for any mistakes that you come acorss :p

[m.list]

The two of you weren't friends; you didn’t even share any acquaintances, classes, or hobbies. It was better for the both of you that no one knew the other existed; there was no need to make things messy with questions. It was a one-night stand that turned into two. Six months later, the two of you were still inviting each other over for no-strings-attached sex. 

You remember that second night when Seungmin rolled out of bed already halfway to putting his jeans back on when you asked, “Are you leaving?” The look he threw over his shoulder was cruel to anyone else, the one that said he would kick a girl while she was down in the dumps for him, put an end to any relationship with complete certainty, and never look back.

“I don’t want to sit and cuddle, I told you that already. I don’t do relationships,” 

“I wasn't asking to cuddle you idiot, I wanted to make sure you would lock the door on your way out,” you were sitting up in bed the sheet halfway up your body, “I need to shower and I don’t care enough to walk you out again,” 

Seungmin had huffed a laugh tugging his shirt on, “You didn’t walk me out last time,” he looked down at his phone flipping through his calendar, “Does Thursday at three work?” 

“Are you really trying to schedule sex like we’re a forty-year-old married couple?” 

“Yes, does three work?” he repeats himself looking bored. 

“I have a chem lab then, I'll be here at seven,” 

“Okay, I'll just meet you here,” 

And if you didn’t see Seungmin all week you would be sure to find him standing at your door Thursday at seven, hands in the pockets of his jeans leaning against the door frame waiting as you unlocked your door. Your standing dick appointment was penned into your schedule along with any other time one of you felt an itch. It wasn't past either of you to text randomly in the middle of the night a quick you up? 

In minutes Seungmin would be in your bed, on your couch, over the countertop, or even right at the front door. Neither of you really wasted time with kissing or prep, most of the time Seungmin’s spit was the most lube to help with the stretch of taking him so fast after he came in, it was a month in when he brought over a bottle of lube with him to keep in your nightstand. “look what I got you”

One of the nicer things he had done besides make you cum but you only ever used it if you made it to the bed. The only times he had his mouth on you was to keep his moans down after a noise complaint from your neighbors. Every sound pressed right against your pulse. 

Seungmin often came over when he was angry, always upset about one thing or another. Pressing your face into the mattress as he pounded into you, complaining about his classes, his roommates, and someone getting his coffee order wrong. Any slight towards him sent him right to your door, his perfect crutch to getting his anger out. It didn’t matter much to you either way as long as you had at least one or two orgasms by the time he left you were fine to be used without mercy. 

It was easy to ignore him, push everything away until he was there in front of you, leaning on the door frame already hard just knowing you would pull it open. But if you weren't in the perimeter of your apartment neither of you even looked at the other besides a sideways glance you would share with any stranger you walk past. 

It's how you could stand in the same line for coffee, a few feet away chatting with your friends while he picked up his order. Just a boy with a scowl on his face as he sipped from the still steaming up. You didn't even look at him as he brought his cup back up, cutting your friend in line just to complain. 

“He's always so rude,” she mutters as soon as Seungmin has gone, rushing out without a blink your way, taking his newly redone cup of coffee with him. “He was arguing with our professor the other week about the context of some passage. Went on and on and it was so awkward because he was kinda right but neither of them would drop it,” 

Seungmin had come over that day, the door slamming behind him when he finally came in, no questions as he pushed you down onto your bed, not even stopping to help pull down your shorts. “Stupid fucking prick, doesn't even know how to properly teach a class he's paid to teach-”  

But you just shrug now, arms crossed holding your coat like a blanket you could throw over your lies. You didn't care what Seungmin got up to when you weren't around, but it made sense that he was angry even outside the walls of your apartment. How he got through his fits before you wasn't your concern but you're sure he did have some other form of release. And now you knew he would be right back in your bed when you got home. Because it didn't matter how small the inconvenience was. 

And you were right, the second you turned the corner you could see his stupidly big black car sitting outside in the parking spot with your apartment number on it, unused when you spent most of your time biking or walking the short distance to campus. 

“It's fucking freezing outside,” was the only thing he said as he watched you roll your bike into its spot next to the entryway, your keys jingling as you pulled them from your coat pocket, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open. 

“Is it the cold weather of the bad coffee that has you back here,” you ask, your smirk only making him roll his eyes. He lets you get out of your outerwear, watches you slowly unzip, the sight less tantalizing and more annoying. He knew you liked to play with him, especially when you witnessed the problem for which he came over in the first place. 

“Shut up,” he walked right past you to your bedroom, pushing open the door to see your half-made bed. He moved around like he knew where everything was placed and located. You're sure that if you asked him to do the laundry he would know where to fold and put away your clothes, even where to put the basket and fabric softener when done. 

You follow, shimmying out of your jeans before he's on you, pushing you against the wall and pulling your panties to the side. His fingers are cold and he runs them through your folds, your body jolting forward until your face and chest are the only thing keeping you up. “Warning next time?” but if he's going to warn you it's the first drag of his tip from your clit to your entrance right before he slams himself in. hands digging into your hips and he curses, sinking in all the way so that there is no room for you to get away, no way for your to fuck back onto him. 

“No,” he grunts, pulling out only an inch before slamming back in, picking up a steady pace that has you biting your lip, hands sliding down the wall searching for purchase as he holds you in place. You lean forward so that your shoulder can keep you up, hand snaking down to rub at your clit because you know he won't do it right now when he's so focused on getting off. 

He’s quick, grunting into your ear and you're right there at the edge ready to fall over when he pulls out. His cum dripping down your lower back after he gives a few short tugs of his slick cock, your whine an exasperated expectation when he's this fed up. “Seung-” he cuts you off with his fingers, shoving them back into your waiting cunt, pumping at the same pace he had been at before, letting you finish the second he curled the digits to meet the perfect spot inside you. 

It's a rush of a high before he pulls away, fingers in his mouth before he zips his pants back up. It didn't matter to you if he got you off when you had your hands to help. Neither of you was past using the other like it was nothing. You had done it before and you're sure it would happen again. Late nights where you called over Seungmin to eat you out when you just couldn't get off, toys doing little for you when you wanted someone right there between your legs. There were plenty of times you sucked him off without wanting anything in return, but finishing now felt like a bit of a gift. 

“Sorry,” he huffs, less an apology but a way to fill the space. 

“You don't have to apologize,” you try to look at the stain he's left on you, the warmth already cooling against your ass, “I needed a shower anyway,” 

To anyone else it would have felt cold, the dismissal as clean cut in your eyes as you waved him away. But it's the exact reason why you liked Seungmin, if even a little bit. He wasn't one to get attached, less so one to linger; hover around like the ghost of past regrets. The two of you knew exactly what this was, down to the way you turned around with a small goodbye, his in turn response just as cold, transactional. You would have it no other way. 

You jumped into the shower after hearing the door close, Seungmin always remembering to turn the first lock so that you would only have to deadbolt it when you were done. The routine down faster than it took you to memorize your class schedule. He was a constant you knew would always be around, one that you even liked from time to time when he could hold up a conversation longer than a few words. 

It hasn't always been like this, not that first night you met. The conversation flowed, aided by the drinks in hand, tucked into the corner of a frat party neither of you wanted to be at. It was a glaring contrast to the second night when you had called each other back. Less wanting and needy under the LED lights half hitting your faces and more like tonight. It had been one of the only times he had kissed you, lips chasing yours when you pulled away, hands greedy to get a feel of your body, so new and undiscovered to him. “I don't do relationships,” had slipped from both of your mouths between kisses, his apology then for feeling as if he had cum too soon and not because he had pulled out to release on your favorite lace panties. 

But it didn't matter, you didn't need an apology when he had stayed hard, finding himself back in you without stopping, making you feel things you never thought possible, finding your moans in his mouth, as he echoed back the perfect choir to match. It had been the best night you had had with someone, the one you turned to when you needed help to get off. And it wasn't as if you hadn't had great times with Seungmin after that, it was only different because the two of you knew who you were.  

You could see into each other and you didn't have to hide. Somehow you had stripped down to the basic raw instincts of each other, no need for the added layers of emotions when all you wanted was everything physical. Neither of you had to hide from the other when it would be no use in the first place, the two of you looking into a mirror that shouted back the same image. 

It's why when he came back hours later, the knock on your door had the same rhythm he always found, you didn't think to even turn him away. “It almost seems like you missed me,” his eye roll, a welcomed response. 

“Shut up,” but he couldn't deny the way he had already been hard just thinking about driving over to your place. The idea of someone being so open to taking him whenever he saw fit was something he found addicting, something he wouldn't admit to anyone except you but never in words. The confession tucked in between his moans as you sucked him off, the warm, wet skill you have over him bringing him to your door over and over again. 

He did miss you, in some strange way when there was no sex and he was sitting at your doorstep waiting or in the short time it took him to get up and leave, the small conversations shared before you got in the shower he liked the solace he found. The sex was an added bonus nonetheless. But he wouldn't be able to deny that he liked how easy it was to just be himself when around you. It was something he avoided thinking about too much but crept up on nights like this where you just wiped the corner of your mouth and sat next to him on the couch not kicking him out as you turned on the TV. 

The two of you could sit in silence that is not strained, no questions asked when the air is still. It was peace he didn't know that he needed; didn't even know that he wanted. And yet he always went home. 

Because when you woke up, tucked in on the couch right where he left you it wasn't surprising. You just picked yourself up and got ready for school all over again. Bundling up in an extra layer since the seasons were changing, the bike ride numbed your face and ears. Your lecture halls were stuffy with the heat turned up enough to make you flushed, stuck in a roundabout feeling as if you were defrosting. Your partner already waiting in the seats you had picked out at the beginning of the semester, assigned together at random to work together on your final assignment of the quarter. 

Minho was always on time, scrolling through his phone as he waited for you to join, coat thrown over the back of his chair. Your exasperated ‘hi,’ enough to turn his head in your direction, a soft genuine smile gracing his lips, the the edge of his mouth turned up. 

“I only got a few words in on the doc last night, the research isn't going too well,” he confesses while you pull out your laptop from your bag, setting it up once you have taken your seat in the unbearably uncomfortable chair. 

“I only got a few more lines in before i had to take a break, maybe we can work later if you're free,” it was usually how things ended up going, you got most of your work done after class while sitting over coffee growing cold. The work slowly devolved into giggling over stories you shared together. But you two always fell right back into working. 

“I'm free after my lit class, around three if that works,” it's how you ended up back at the cafe, your usual spot occupied by your laptops and books, research underway as you tried again and again to locate the proper evidence you needed. You needed Minho there in times like this to be the soundboard to bounce ideas off of, making sure that your topics lined up and you didn't have the wrong points being made. 

“I can never tell if I'm doing the citations correctly,” Minho muttered, blowing a puff of air out enough to tousle his dark bangs. The two of you had been sitting here for well over two hours, the sun just starting to set from the wintertime. It made the whole cafe feel warm now that most of the bustle of the campus was dying down, everyone just milling around doing work, muttering with their friends, the hum heavy in the air. 

“Let me see,” the table was long, filled with all the books and empty cups you two had yet to clear so you got up to lean over his shoulder to check. 

Minho sat with his hands in his lap, letting you look over the work he had done poorly, “what have you done?” The words are mostly a giggle at how messed up he got the format, every line was at a different indention, nothing lining up properly at all. 

“I have no idea,” he giggles right back, his hand rubbing down his face as he tries to hold back his laugh, “I really didn't want you to see it but it got too bad,” 

“I could have helped when you first had a question,” you remind him, leaning over the side of him to get the keyboard in place for you to help fix. It was something you would have done in the cramped library closer to your lecture hall, the larger study rooms always taken up leaving the single cubicles available, the two of you squeezing into one if you weren't lucky enough to find one together. It's why you preferred the cafe, so much space to look at everything you needed and apparently the free entertainment. 

Pushing open the door, Seungmin waltzed in, eyes glued to his phone before he ran right into the poor soul who happened to be walking right out at the same time. The crash is loud enough to turn everyone's heads, Seungmin's loud “fuck” echoing in the newly silenced room. 

He was drenched in coffee, the front of his cream-colored sweater only showing off the river of the stain for everyone to see it. The perfect design you would wear for a bad day. 

You're frozen leaning over Minho, his hand resting hot on your lower back to steady you. It's the first thing Seungmin sees when he looks up from his soaked sweater, his lip curling in as he holds back his frustration, balling his fists, shaking his head. It's a rush of apologies from the coffeeless person, Seungmin waving him away without the need for the theatrics, what's done was done, and now he's pissed. 

Minho laughs, loud and shocking in your ear, cute teeth on display for the cafe as you gape at him. “Bad day?” he asks, and unlike the rest of the cafe who tries to turn away, shy eyes from the mess made, Minho only racks his eyes up and down the front of Seungmin. 

“Now made worse,” seungmin mutters, not even looking at you as you stand up straight, Minho's hand leaving you as he pushes his hair away from his brow. 

“Oh this is my roommate by the way, seungmin this is my project partner, the one i was telling you about,” he gestures between the two of you, sharing your name, seungmin only sharing you a brief glance. 

“Hi,” “Hello,” it was probably the few times you two had shared niceties, even when he watched you walk up your front steps he was quick to complain about the wait and you were quick to tell him to fuck off. But it was clear Seungmin was surprised to see you now with his roommate. 

Seungmin hadn't even caught on that it was you who was Minho's partner until that very moment, seeing you lean over him, his hand on you like he was comfortable enough to even do so. He listened when Minho talked but clearly not close enough to realize it was you. Now not only soggy and angry he was able to admit the hint of jealousy he was feeling at the sight of the two of you. If not jealousy, annoyance that he hadn't caught on, annoyance that the two of you seemed so comfortable, so able to be seen in public. 

But the two of you had made the rule without thinking much about what it would do in the long run, no need to go on and on thinking about some kind of claim he had on you when in turn you two had no claim over each other at all. But it didn't keep him from feeling the crinkle of unease in his stomach, the feeling so similar to anger that it was easy to feel the emotions flip-flop with each other. “We are just about to finish up and I was wondering if you could take me home,” 

“Don't you have your own ride?” Seungmin asks, Minho was the only other one who had a car in the apartment they shared. It was the point of contention every night who got street parking and who got the lone parking spot by the front door. 

“I dropped it off at the shop before class and just walked the way, and it's too cold to walk back now,” Minho shrugs,“wait dont you bike home?” you've moved back to your side of the table, slowly packing your things as they talk, seungmin ignoring you. 

“Yeah, but I'm used to it, when it snows I'll catch a ride with a friend or just walk once it's settled,” 

“I could give you a ride whenever you wanted,” and he's so obviously flirting it's like you're caught. Seungmin is watching you, looking for your response as you blink at Minho who is smiling so sweetly the corner of his mouth dipped just right to turn any girl to agree just to see that smile again. 

“Flirting when I'm right here?” Seungmin flicks Minho's shoulder, and you can feel your face heat, as Minho rolls his eyes. It should feel small, like a joke, Seungmin poking fun at Minho in front of a girl he likes, but it feels like Seungmin trying to tug you from Minho’s hands.  The obvious glint in Seungmin’s eyes could be written off by his bad day but you know exactly what it means, if anyone knew what he looked like when pissed it was you. 

“Maybe i'll take you up on it for now youre right i should be back home it's getting late and i don't like to make the trip in the dark,” it's all you have to say to get away from really answering in front of seungmin, your bad thrown over your shoulder as you wave bye to them, “its was nice meeting you, see you tomorrow minho,” seungmin dipping his head in a stiff nod as you leave. 

It wasn't too long after that there was a knock on your door, the first words out of your mouth teasing him, “Is someone upset?” he doesn't even try to answer with his usual bite, his hands in your hair before he's nipping your neck, leaving a trail of wanting bites and muttered words you can't grasp. The door is kicked shut behind him as you clutch his shirt, still warm under his open coat as you stumble back. 

He was needy, hard already, and grinding into you as you fell back on the couch. His hands were hot, working off your shirt, not stopping to worry over your bra as he shoved his hands down into your sweatpants, sliding them down your legs along with your panties. 

It's rare that Seungmin comes over to eat you out, not unless you send him a text to head your way. Now with his lips on your clit it shocks your system, thighs trying to close in around his ears, hands twisting into his hair as he sucks. He doesn't even have to try to get you wet, he's lapping at your cunt like he had been starved for you, the lewd sounds only making you shake. It's when he slips his fingers in, curling them just right that you cry out, moaning without warning that the noises would even leave your lips. 

“Wait-” It feels too soon to finish, like everything is hurtling towards you as you feel the tightness in your stomach burns. You don't want him to stop now when you're crashing as he pulls his mouth away, thumb working over your clit to help ease you down from your hair, the fingers still inside you, pumping slowly as he watches the way you tremble for him. 

“Tell me you want it,” chin still slick with your wetness, his tongue darting out to taste you on the edge of his lips. Your heart is beating in your ears, so caught off guard that you're stumbling to keep up but Seungmin is right there tugging you closer to where you need to be. His thumb which had been so slow is now replaced by his persistent circles, speeding up the longer it takes you to answer. “Tell me,” 

“I want it,” you can't even remember what it was a few minutes ago opening the door for him, teasing only to be teased right back, now you're looking for anything to hold onto, searching for the right words as your mind spins. 

“Beg me for it,” he pulls his fingers from inside you, placing them on his tongue as he soaks in your desperate whimpers. 

“Please-” hips moving on their own, you're grinding forward trying to catch more pressure as he slows down his circling fingers on your clit. “Please Seungmin- I want it, please,” 

Free hand pushing down his pants he releases his aching cock, pre-cum bubbling up from the tip, thumb rolling over his slit to catch the release. “Louder,” his eyes are hooded as he watches, so dark you are sure that you'd fall into them if you didn't know what this was. But you couldn't care about that, not when he was demanding something so little of you. 

“Please- please Seungmin,” his lashes flutter at the sound, his name on your lips like an antidote to his frozen limbs. He moves so that he can sink into you, falling over your body as the two of you gasp at the entrance, the stretch gloriously needed to leave you mindless. 

He doesn't even realize he's doing it, nose to yours, breathing in the same air, gasping on the same breath, lips just brushing and before he can help himself he's kissing you, sloppy and consuming. The taste of you fills your senses as he finds it in him to devour you. Your arms wrap around his neck, hands pulling on his hair as you let him take control as if you ever had an ounce of it before. 

Every drag of his cock only draws out both of your hums, the slow pace only speeding up as Seungmin’s need grows. He had only been here yesterday, felt the warmth and squeeze of your cunt less than twenty-four hours ago, and yet even he could admit he was addicted. He needed a long fuck, that drawn-out ache working into his bones the whole way to dropping off Minho back at their shared apartment. The only thought on his mind was the way you said his friend's name instead of his, how many times had you uttered his name? How many times would you do it again if you had the opportunity? He wanted you to think of him in the way he was starting to think of you. 

Not in the way he had imagined, he knew I wouldn't fall into loving you easily as horrible as it sounded. Seungmin had come to the conclusion that he wouldn't find anyone to love, but you…you were an obsession, that jealousy twisting around his mind, burning down every rational thought until he couldn't help but need to hear you say it, say his name, over and over again. 

And you didn't stop saying it, the reverberation of it pressed to his lips as he tried to hold back his moans but it was impossible when you felt this good under him. He didn't even realize it was happening, the kissing, until he was cumming, his breaths uneven, whines pressed right into your mouth as you came along with him. The warmth of his cum spilling out of you with each added thrust he made, his face pressed into your neck to try and hide what he had done. 

His mind was clearing, from the jealousy, from the orgasm, from you, and he needed to leave.  

It felt so unceremonious; so quick to move from passion to regret. He shouldn't be here, not when it wasn't just anger getting him off but jealousy, unreasonable jealousy that felt heavy and sick in his stomach. He had no reason to be jealous, not now when the both of you had made it clear that if the other found a partner you would stop seeing each other. That the two of you would let the other know when it was even close to happening. And maybe that's why he was angry, not over the fact someone had the opportunity to get you in bed but because it would mean he would be left alone with nothing but his hand.

Since being with you in whatever way it was you had, he hasn't even tried to look for anyone else because he didn't have to and he didn't necessarily want to. He liked the ease at which you put him. Even now, pulling out of you and cleaning you up it felt so normal until your phone lit up on the table. Minho's name flashed across the screen for the small second it needed to let you know he had texted you. So late at night when you don't usually text your project partner. 

You didn't even see it, too busy throwing your clothes in the hamper, warming up your shower, and asking if Seungmin wanted to hop in with you. It was an offer, not a plea he knew as much. 

He could still feel your kiss, the thrumming of the memory scaring him more than he would like to admit. So much so that he's gone with a wave, ditched from the situation like it was the first week of seeing each other and not two years deep. 

You knew he would do it, the second he kissed you he would be gone. It was rare he made the slip up but it wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last time and each time you knew he would be out the door no matter how much you told him it didn't matter. 

It was something you had trained yourself not to be hurt over but it's not as if you didn't see it getting easier with time but it only got disappointing. Seungmin had only stayed over a few times in your bed, sleeping over without realizing he was doing it, not realizing that you two found each other sharing a meal over the course of a few episodes of TV, sitting around on your phones, sending each other videos you found funny because he was right there and on your mind. 

So you climbed into bed feeling drained and wishing for just one time you could spend it tucked back into it, not even cuddled, with him after a night like this where it seemed like he wanted you so bad he couldn't stop himself from taking and taking. But you didn't care, or it's what you liked to tell yourself, you had signed up for it, knew what you were asking for, and had enjoyed it, loved the rules you had fit so snugly against, all until it felt like a straight jacket you could pry yourself out of. 

It kept you up most of the night, the chill of the air outside sinking in between your floorboards making your bed seem warmer than it really was, wanting you to stay in it and skip the day so that you didn't have to face the ride to school. But you fell into the monotony of the day, dressing and making sure your bag was packed with everything you would need for the day. Minho has texted you to tell you he wouldn't be in today because of his car, needing to take it to get checked out across town. It meant you could leave early and work in the comfort of your own home but it also meant you had to keep yourself accountable in getting the work done alone. 

It's halfway to campus that the first snowfall starts, the fat white puffs coming down like rain; fast and hard. You have to keep your annoyance in check at the sight. It was snowing so much earlier in the year, that the hassle of finding someone to take you on the worst days already makes you upset. You can feel the scowl set in on your brow, the tilt of your mouth taking its shape. It's how Seungmin sees you, locking up your bike with your hands in fingerless gloves, spinning the combination, the snowflakes catching in your hair. Scarf tucked close to your chin, nose scrunched as the wind sends a flurry of snow in your direction. 

The decision is easy, he knows when your class is out, your schedule memorized just like you had his down. And when the day is over, your last lecture out he waits next to the bike rack not caring if anyone sees him. Leaning right against your bike he wipes away the build up of snow that had already accumulated. You don't even notice him, head down as you try to avoid the breeze. 

“It's snowing,” the sound of his voice startling you, the obvious observation making you irritable. 

“I know,” you tug on the lock, fingers already falling numb as you put in your combination. The second it clicks seungmin’s hands are on the handlebars, pulling it from its spot, and rolling it away from you. “What the hell-” but you don't stop him, following after as he leads you to his car, already on and warmed. 

The suv was completely oversized and obnoxious, the kind of car that was made for families or people with entourage, not a college student. But it was Seungmin’s prized possession, the only thing he put all his care into, and he was proud of it. You had made fun of it before, the spot in front of your apartment hardly big enough to fit it between the other two much smaller cars next to it. But he took no criticism of it, completely blacked out with its heated seats. It was a blessing when the road's reflection of the winter sun bounced off the blinding snow. 

You had only been in it a few times, that first night being one of them, his hand on your thigh as he drove you home. Even now it was a welcome warmth as you got in, body instantly feeling the effect of defrosting as you buckled in, seungmin lifting your bike to place in the trunk like it was something he did all the time and not the first occurrence. 

And for the first time, the air was stale between you two, not the usual understanding, not after last night when both of you couldn't get the feel of each other's lips to go away. The radio was low, your hands twisting together as an excuse to do something besides sit still; eyes dancing over the oncoming snow, raining down harder than it had been earlier. The soft thumps of the windshield wipers keep up with the pace of your thoughts, say something- don't, say something- don't.  

It's not until he pulls into his usual spot that you speak up, the light, “thank you,” fading into the background. The wind is howling, beating the flakes against the windshield at a rate the wipers can't keep up with, the inside of the car keeping the two of you in a reverse snowglobe, watching the world shake as you ask, “do you want to wait it out inside?” 

“If you don't mind,” he doesn't even share a glance your way, eyes passing you to look out the window before looking over his shoulder into the backseat, “we can just leave the bike in here for now,” 

The two of you rush out of the car, huddled close as you fumble for your keys, Seungmin standing in the way of the wind, taking the brunt of the weather before you push open the door. The two of you shedding clothes without the intention of fucking for the first time in a long time, your school bag falling to the foot of the couch as you move to turn up the heater.“Do you want anything to eat, i have a few snacks and things if you're hungry,” 

He already knows where the pantry is, pulling open the door to look inside. It's casual and yet you feel the distance, not only in the way you had been before, the barely talking had been comfortable, but now the barely talking felt heavy. But you wouldn't be the one to break it, it wasn't you who came around to take you home, it wasn't you who had kissed him. But you knew exactly why you wouldn't say anything. Somewhere the worm of thought was wiggling around your brain, telling you that you weren't as casual as you had hoped to be, you were in some way friends at the end of it all, even if no one knew about it. 

Seungmin pulled out a bag of popcorn, still folded nearly, ready to be popped. You sat back down on the couch, getting under your blanket and ignoring your work as you reached for the remote to the TV. The air filled with the buttery scent of fresh-popped kernels, seungmin reached for a bowl in the cabinet already having seen you do this exact task before. 

“I didn't know you knew Minho,” you don't even turn in his direction when he makes the statement, watching the TV shows and movies flip past, looking for something to watch. 

“Yeah we’ve been working together for most of the year,” you watch Seungmin’s lips pursed, nodding to your answer lightly before moving over to sit next to you on the couch. He kicks his socked feet up onto your coffee table and you click on a random show that neither of you care much about. “I didn't know he was one of your roommates, I knew you had them of course it's why you keep me away from your coveted apartment,” 

“It's not coveted, they are just nosey,” you lean over to grab a handful of popcorn as he chews, “and your place has no one else we have to worry about, if we went to my place yesterday and tried to fuck on the couch we would have a lot of explaining to do, and the decor is better here,” 

“So it's the decor and convenience that keeps you coming,” you're leaning on the armrest of your couch, half turned to him so that you can push your foot into his side. Toes cold as you tuck them under his thigh. 

“You know that's not the only reason,” but it's the way he looks at you when he says it that makes you freeze, the soft tilt to his eyes and the quick realization that he was doing it in the first place. But you knew it wasn't the sex, not when he was quick to flush about the statement. He never got embarrassed to talk about your sex life, seungmin was the most open partner you had, slowly pulling that same confidence out of you. He was easy to talk to about what you wanted and when you wanted it, his one-month-long journey to get you to speak up in bed worked wonders on the way your sex had evolved. 

But this, the blush on his cheeks staining your mind as you knew turned over the meaning in your mind. He knew the same comfort that you did, felt the same relaxation settling over him as it did you when you could just strip back to someone who was entirely yourself and yet hidden from so many other people. “I know,” it's a whisper because anything more would make him run, just like a kiss, anything more and he would be out the door in seconds, snowstorm be damned he would sit in his car. And you were starting to hate that truth, that fear he was feeling. So you kicked him again, “and you can't resist my-” 

“Do not start right now, I'm eating,” he cracks a smile, the corner of his mouth turning up as you fake shock. 

“I was going to say personality i have no idea where your mind was going,” 

“Your personality makes me sick,” his tongue poked out for a moment as you shoved your feet further under him, toes wiggling in the cramped space. 

“Your attitude makes me sick,” you quip, rolling your eyes as he leans over, hand sliding up your calf. 

“You love my attitude,” it's the kind of moment that would have led to sex, you could see it, him leaning over to kiss you,if he let himself. Spilling popcorn but neither of you cared as you fell into each other. But that wasn't the way things felt for you two, because that would have been too close to a couple and you could see that in his eyes when he pulled away.“I should head out soon before the roads get too bad and it looks like it's clearing up a bit,” he nods to your window, the curtains pulled back to see the light snowfall. 

“Yeah, let me get my bike-” 

“I'll just pick you up tomorrow, you're seriously not going to bike in the snow again,” he passes you the bowl of half eaten popcorn, setting it in your lap as he stands. 

“You don't have to do that-�� 

“But I am, you don't have to worry about it I don't mind, and you can't deny you don't love the heated seats,” and you want to ask him to stay, and spend the night. He had clothes here, ones he had left and forgotten. He knew where in the drawer they were and put them occasionally, it wouldn't even be the first time he used your shower whether alone or not. Even sharing your bed wouldn't have been too much. But you let him go without asking. Too scared to be turned away, too scared to think about why you wanted him here this close when you swore to yourself that you wouldn't let that happen, he had told you it wouldn't happen. But the lines felt so blurred when he was being nice even if it was the bare minimum. 

So he left, took your bike along with him, and you found yourself alone in bed again, turning and turning as you tried to find the right spot to lay. You had accounted for the bad sleep to that, the constant moving, and yet the second you made it to the bathroom you found your period had started. Your groan sank into your stomach as you got ready. Seungmins knock on the door was punctual and all too much a reminder of not having enough time to crawl back into bed and skip. 

“You look like shit,” it's the first words out of his mouth and you're not sorry for the look you land on him. 

“I hardly slept,” you mutter, locking up and following him back to the waiting warm car. The few steps down were slick with a mix of melting snow and salt, Seungmin’s hand helpful as he hovered it just slightly next to your hip without actually touching you. It made you want to shout at him for being nice, for blurring lines you didn't think would ever be spotted with questions. 

It felt like he was toying with you, pulling on the little string on your back to hear you, all before he left again. It was tiring and you already felt drained. Especially when he was back to not knowing you on campus, the library filled with people, and there he sat with his friends, ignoring you when everyone else said hi when Minho introduced you, picking up notes he needed from one of them. It felt like falling backward, hurtling in a different direction than you had been going when on the couch together less than a day ago. 

And it was so easy to feel annoyed today of all days, when your cramps were starting to work their way through your body, and make you more uncomfortable than sitting silently in a car with seungmin as he took you home. But you did have to agree about the heated seats being the perfect makeup for not having to bike to school. 

But as you sat there trying to focus on the warmth under you all you could feel was pain in your lower back, that hollow ache pressed right against your pelvis. 

Seungmin could see the way you were trying to hold back a whine, eyes squeezed shut as you rested your hand over your stomach, leaning back with a frown on your mouth. He didn't say anything, just followed you back into your apartment unasked, and you let him too tired to care. “I don't feel like it today,” you muttered while he followed you into your bedroom, already halfway undressed as you slipped on pajamas. 

“Neither do I,” he shrugged, pushing out of his coat. “If you want me to leave I can,” 

But you don't tell him to go and you don't really tell him to stay. Groaning as you fall into bed, face pressed into the pillow trying to find some way that relieves even a bit of your pain. Seungmin climbs in after you, but not next to you as if he was going to nap but straddling the back of your thighs, hands warm as he pushes the back of your sleep shirt up, fingertips pressing into your lower back as you whine. 

He knew your periods would get bad occasionally, once you had texted him to come over just so that he could help you to bed, your body curled up on the bathroom floor, head pounding with a headache and nausea making it hard to want to stand at all. He hadn't said anything, helped you up, and took you to your bed without questions. It had been one of the truly personal moments you had shared and didn't care that he had seen you like that, didn't care if it had made you seem less sexy because it hadn’t, he had been back just as often as he had the week before. 

Now he massaged you, hands kneading slowly as you tried not to think about what it meant to have him here with you now. It would have felt embarrassing to have anyone else around to see you like this but at the same time, it was natural. And Seungmin liked to know he could make you feel good, not only when he was having sex with you but that he could make you feel good in a way that was similar to how you made him feel. He liked to know you were okay, liked to see that he could provide as you had for him when he was in his nastier moods. Because sometimes he felt bad that he used you, even if you had used him right back it left him feeling like he owed you an apology, even if you would never accept it. 

So you let him stay, let his warm hands work you to sleep. And when you woke up with the lights dimmed, curtains pulled closed to let you sleep in you felt like crying. Your bed empty but your bedside table dawned a full glass of water, a few painkillers, and crackers. He was gone but he hadn't left like it was nothing. 

You climbed into the shower trying to wash away the feelings that had started to cling to your skin, your mind. It felt wrong to hear his knock on your door and know the second you saw him you wanted to hug him and say thank you. You wanted to let him know how much it meant to you, how much it was affecting you. The only thing you could come up with as a thank you that didn't seem too much was to gift him your apartment spare key, shoved in the back of a junk drawer where it should not have been, the little heart keychain getting tangled in a bunch of old changing cables you had no use for anymore. 

It was a long overdue gift, one you should have given a year ago in the winter where he would stand next to the front door with his hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders to his ears. But you had been so used to avoiding your feelings that it was easy to write them off as nothing more than a complication. But now it feels silly to think that. This isn't even the first time he was nice, much less the last time seeing as he was already leading you down to his warm car. 

“Here so you don't have to freeze your ass off and so you can deadbolt my door when you leave now,” it was another casual dismissal like it meant nothing to hand your house key over to someone you only slept with when you needed to take a load off. But it was the way you knew wouldn’t make him run, if you had said it any nicer he would leave and you wouldn't see him for a week or more, damn it if you're cold or not. 

“Took you long enough, didn't I ask for a key once and you told me if I didn't make one there was no way of me ever getting one?” he slipped the key into his back pocket, the little pink heart made of easily shattered plastic hanging out right against his dark jeans. 

“Well you have it now so no need to complain about how long it takes me to make it back from campus,” you were setting yourself up for the morning when he didn't show up, did not knock or let himself in so that he could take you, snow or not you knew it would sting. 

“You love it when I complain,” your answering eye-roll enough to make him chuckle. 

You didn't think that he would use the key so soon, the weekend rolling in, no reason for him to pick you up, no reason to come over. He had even dropped your bike off right outside your door on Friday so that if you needed it you had it. Spending most of the day hunched over your books working on your project that you and minho would have to submit by the end of the week and present. 

It was late enough that Minho had logged off the shared doc and retired for the night and you knew you wouldn't hear from him until he was ready to put in work again. So you stood going over your presentation trying and failing to work your way through the parts you had to memorize. You got more points if you didn't use flashcards, and even more points if you only gestured towards the board and didn't need help to remember plot points from it as you flipped through slides. But you kept having to look down and remember the parts you had to interject in between Minho's parts. 

The task was distracting enough not to hear the door open behind you, your hand falling over your heart the second you turned and away Seungmin coming in, the flashcards holding Minho's parts of the presentation fluttering to the ground,“you scared me you asshole-” 

“I texted you like an hour ago that i was coming over,” and you know your phone is on the charger in the other room, turned face down to try and keep you from flipping it over and going on it to procrastinate. 

“We can have sex after you help me with this,” picking up all the notecards you file them in order shoving them into his unexpectant hands. 

“I don't really want to do homework this late at night, it's not even my homework,” fingers deftly working through the cards, “and it's not even your work i’m reading, shouldn't minho be working on this with you?” 

“He was busy and i didnt even know you were coming over so, wrong place wrong time, now help me,” you wave seungmin to sit on the couch, standing in front of the coffee table, closing your eyes to try and remember the first line in your speech. 

“He is back at home watching TV with the guys,” Seungmin says leaning back as he reads over his half of the cards. “And you know sometimes I come for the company,” it was the truth, or at least as much as he was willing to share. He didn't know why he had texted that he was on his way, he knew less as to why he couldn't think of what to say when he finally put his key in your lock. He was glad to have found you somewhat shocked to see him so that he wouldn't have to jump right into your bed but had time to do what he really wanted; just sit around in your presence. 

“Well either way I want a very nice reward for doing so much school work so late into the night,” and it had been a while since you had found each other twisted up together, especially after seeing each other around more often than usual these past few weeks. “For now I need you to read those when I get to the breaks,” 

Seungmin picked up the pace easily enough, pointing out the grammar mistakes that had been rushed over in haste to get the cards done. But you were thankful to have him help you. His easy chuckle and smooth cadence helped more than you thought you needed. Even halfway you order food to be delivered, taking a much needed break and calling it a night for work. You had been standing the whole time, looking for a way to make it seem less awkward talking with nothing in your hands. Now your legs were tired, your groan leaving you the second you laid out on the couch not caring about putting your feet into his lap while you did it. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, eyes covered with the back of your hand as you sighed through your nose. “I know it sucks to come over for sex and get this instead,” 

“I didn't come over just for sex, believe it or not. Sometimes I like your company enough to not be inside you,” but it didn't matter about him trying to brush it off when now all you could think about was sex. And with him looking the way that he did, half disheveled and relaxed was enough to make you want to sink to your knees for him. So you did. Sliding from the couch so that you could be in front of him, hands gliding over his thighs, looking up from under your lashes. 

“I mean we don't have to…” but just the sight of you like this on your knees for him was making him grow hard, his hands reaching out for yours, capturing them before you could find his zipper. 

“Sit with me,” but the words themself felt like a ‘no’, a direct denial that he could read over your features as they sink into you. But it wasn't the way he wanted you to take it, not when he couldn't get the idea of your lips out of his mind, not wrapped around him but pressed to his, chasing his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. So when you got up he pulled you down to the couch with him, pushing you into the fabric and finding your mouth without warning. 

He knows he shouldn't, knows it goes against the quasi-distance he puts between you two, and yet all he could think about was the last time his lips were on you, kissing you, trying to hide his truths right against your mouth. And you were so willing, arms pulling him in, needing him closer, wanting to be here, and not pushing him away like you should have. But even you couldn't deny how good it felt to have him this close to you, semi-hard just from the sight of you. And there was something about breaking the thin rules you two had in place like his need was more than his conscience. No longer able to resist himself. 

It was a slow kiss, exploring the way you fit together as if you hadn't learned each other's bodies before this one bit. All his kisses turned intense, dripping with desire as you spread your legs, letting him sink in closer to you, rolling his hips as he caught his breath on the edge of a whimper. And he was looking at you, really catching you in his sight, blinking down at you. His hair hanging around his brows that you couldn't help but push it back, fingers running through the strands as you tucked them behind his ear. “You look so pretty,” 

It was the truth, one you didn't know you had said aloud but you had, and now he was pulling away. Sitting up and leaving you laid out, disheveled, and feverish from a few kisses. “I have to go,” 

“Seungmin-” 

“No i should go, i need to go,” and it was a switch, that boyish smile cleaned from the surface like a stain he didn't want visitors to see, and you were just a visitor he allowed to see it occasionally but not one he let stay. Now his scowl was set in, his shoulders set as you sat up. 

“Fine, go, run away,” his eyes flickered at the dismissal as if he could be angry at you for kicking him out so willingly. 

You watch the way his eyes roll, “we have rules for a reason,” 

“Rules,” the word feels foreign in your mouth, arms crossing, “you're the one who came over, you're the one who told me it wasn't for sex, if it wasn't for sex what was it for? Huh? Think about the rules next time you want to stay a while,” 

“We said no kissing,” 

“You said no kissing, and I never kissed you first, think back to every time it's happened, you did it, take up the rules with yourself,” 

“You should not let me-” 

“Let you, you're acting like a child, get over it, people kiss all the time, go if you want to, act like you don't like me,” 

“Fine,” he mutters grabbing his coat, “and it's not an act,” you don't even try to stop him, let him walk right out and even listen to the sound of him locking the door, deadbolt slamming like the shutting of a heavy book, echoing in the room as you fall back where he had pressed you, heels of your palms pressed to your eye sockets, sighing. 

He was scared and you didn't help it, didn't want to push him so you pushed him away. The both of you are childish and cold to the other, running around like you don't know that this would one day crack so much so that you wouldn't be able to glue it back together. But you had never predicted it would be over a kiss or even the friendship you had started with one another. And even that made you want to cry, now alone on a warm couch soon to grow cold because he's not here anymore to keep you warm. 

He doesn't call or text you, doesn't even come to pick you up Monday morning. The snow already settled and mostly shoveled away from the roads and sidewalks, and a lot of other people from campus were already back to walking. And you had prepared yourself for this, your sadness turning to anger more than anything else. The walk filled with a scowl and half pouty stomp, cursing Seungmin under your breath knowing that if it was anyone else making you feel this way you would have called Seungmin over to work you out enough to let it go. And now you have no one to help you, having to find more conventional ways of getting your anger out. And so you turned to overwork on your projects. 

You spent more time at the library and the cafe, calling Minho to practice so that you knew in some way Seungmin might know that you were busy. The whole week you poured over every little note to take your mind away from his and his rare smile and soft kisses. And when you did see him at the cafe ordering a coffee neither of you acknowledged the other, brushing past each other like true strangers, like it had been before when you first set your rules.

But it did sting, like an ember that only aided a fire and didn't put it out because you bottled it up and didn't wallow over it. You wouldn't be the first one to crack, not when you didn't see what you had done wrong besides letting him do what the both of you were thinking. 

Minho had picked up on the irritation, “everyone is having a bad week, some of my roommates are in a pisspoor mood,” he commented while you waiting for your turn to present your project, “you should come out with us tonight, we are celebrating the end of the quarter with lots of drinks and dancing but mostly drinks,” 

Most of your time had been spent indoors and now would be the perfect time to get out. The much needed time away from your apartment, letting go and not thinking about Seungmin on your couch, and if he wanted you he would text you,or wait for you to come home. “That sounds perfect actually,” and Minho planned to pick you up for your place, texting you when he was outside and watching you lock up from the comfort of his car, headlights shining over you as you walked across to get to the passenger side door. 

Both of you had done great on your project, the time you spent pouring over your work and not worrying about boys with commitment issues helped tremendously. Now without a care you wore the shortest skirt you owned and didn't care if Seungmin saw or not. Until you made it to the bar and watched his eyes find you. Minho's hand in yours led you through the crowd to the table they had all gotten, seungmin’s jaw tight as he held his glass of water, gaze trapped on the way Minho helped you get into the booth. 

It felt liberating to be ‘allowed’ to talk to him in this sense. He couldn't hide behind the fact he didn't know you after this, you would now know of each other publicly even if he never did break and text you again. For now, you would sit and let him stew for as long as he wanted. And stew he did, watching every little move you made although he was trying not to seem obvious about it. He listened and didn't talk, nodding along to what his friends were saying and yet still treating the room like it was only you two and your fight between you. 

And when Minho asked you to dance you didn't stop yourself from agreeing, taking his hand and letting him hold you, standing as close as he wanted knowing exactly how angry it would make Seungmin to see. He traced the path Minho'shand had made on you, from the underside of your rib cage down to your hip, catching your eyes as he fumed. His tipping point when you caught him looking you knowingly blew him a kiss, the taunt going too far for him. His scowl set as he stood grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket. 

“I think I'm going to head home,” your hand cupped near Minho's ear, “I'm going to call a bad I'm a little lightheaded,” 

“I can wait with you-” he started, concern written over his face before confusion.

“I can wait with her, Chans asking after you,” Seungmin’s voice was a cool balm over your flushed skin, hot from the crowd, the lights. His face had an indifferent cold exterior as you nodded, “Yeah, you stay, have a good time,” 

Minho gave you one last final look over, nodding with a quick,“Okay, text me when you get home,” before you were walking out the same way you had come in. the chill sinking into your bones the second you left the stuffy club. Your phone in hand, fully prepared to call a cab just like you had claimed you would. 

“You could sleep with him if you wanted to,” Seungmin wasn't even in front of you when he said it, your head snapping to look at him over your shoulder, his brow raised like he was waiting for you to take the bait waving in front of you. 

“Oh I know,” the sarcasm dripped from you like venom. You didn't want to sleep with anyone, not when the one person who you enjoyed getting your anger out on was being an ass. 

“Go sleep with him, you have my permission,” he tipped his head in the direction of the door, goosebumps rising along your arms from the anger, the cold. 

“I don't need your permission to sleep with anyone, you don't do relationships, remember,” you were standing right at the edge of the pavement, where the sidewalk met the parking lot. “Go home,” the words felt heavy as you said them, hitting him with each syllable. You felt so silly standing here before him, both of you dancing around each other but you could see the cracks in him, watching the way the water bubbled to the surface ready to spill out between the two of you. 

“I'm just reminding you,” it made you sick, the arrogance, the casual brush off as if he wasn't the one who started the conversation over nothing. 

“Maybe I will sleep with him,” but you're bluffing, crossing your arms and stalking closer to him, your breath fanning white in front of you like smoke, “maybe he will actually invite me over and not run away from his feelings,” 

But he's angry even at the thought, “no,” the word like a slammed door at the unwelcome proposal. He looks disgusted, nose scrunched, shaking his head, “No,” as if repeating it would make it stick.  

“didn't you just say I could? Go back so easy on your word when people play with your toys, if you like me just admit it- stop acting like a toddler and fess up,” you're standing so close to him now, it didn't matter what height you were when in this conversation he knew you were right anyways you looked you would be the one on top. You just wanted once for him to admit it, say it without having to reduce yourself to begging him. You wanted him to say yes, to tell you, even if you had to stop seeing each other you would live with it because you could live with him being scared but not dishonest. 

But he just blinked back at you, mouth pinched closed like he knew it would drive you insane. Sometimes he loved to deny you, wait it out because it was better that way than just giving in to losing. “Let's go, you can't walk home it's too far,” the words felt like a clear wave of his hand, taking everything you had said and swiping it off the table into a drawer that was easy to slam closed and ignore for later, or never open again. 

You turned around, arms crossed, fiddling with your phone as if you weren't too angry to look at the screen properly. You would walk all the way home if it would fuck with him, just to say you did as petty as it was. You would be the only one at a loss and still, it didn't matter, you knew it would piss him off nonetheless, or if you went back in and asked Minho for a ride, that would hurt him even more. “I'm going to get a ride,” you throw over your shoulder, the angry padding of his following steps right behind you. 

“You already have one,” he holds up his key and you see your keychain as the only other one on there besides his house key and car key, the small heart dangling in his fist, “come on, get in,” 

“Admit it,” you don't care that you are stopped in the middle of the parking lot, standing there in what felt close to nothing, numb from the cold. 

Seungmin watched the way you shivered, hated that he knew you would torture his mind until the end if he didn't get you into the warmth of his car, no matter how badly he wanted to keep his mouth shut. Because he did like you, hated that he was backed in the corner to say it when he could hardly think about it when alone, less when he was with you and the idea was right over him. He was so good at ignoring things, he had been doing it since that first night that he had you. “Fine, get in the car,” it was already on and warm. 

“Say it,” your hip dips, ready to hold out. 

“I like you,” he says it like he hates the words, the tone chipped as you pull it out of him, but you know him, know him best when he's on the edge of anger and desire, “now get in the fucking car,” 

“Fine,” both of you headed for the car, Seungmin reaching out around you so he could pull your door open. He even helps by keeping his hand right on your lower back as you step up to get in, closing the door behind you as you reach over to turn up the heater. The seat was already warm and welcoming. He doesn't say anything when he gets in, putting the car in reverse, hand on the back of your seat as he twists to get a good view behind him. You sit watching outside the front windshield, arms still crossed as you ignore the way his shirt rides up across his waistband. 

“You could have cleared up so much if you had just said something sooner,” you mutter, “hell even if you didn't want me because if it did, it would have been better than sitting around thinking about how I must be a horrible kisser-” 

“I never said that,” he cuts you off, watching the road as the snow starts to come back down. The roads had been cleared and it was only a light dusting, flurries that would melt as soon as they hit the pavement. 

“Exactly you never say anything, you come, you fuck, you leave. I don't even mind it, I welcome it, but then you come over and just hang out, kiss me, and leave but deny you have feelings for me-”

“I never said I didn't have feelings for you, you never asked,” 

“I shouldn't have to ask,”

“I shouldn't have to be the one to start the conversation, you're just as much to blame as I am,” it shuts you up, lips twisting closed as you sink into the seat knowing he's right. But it didn't matter, what's done was done, and you were never the one to run away from him, annoy him yes, but you never ran. 

The two of you sat in silence, watching the snow fall, the anger slightly dissipating as you let the thoughts of him take over. You knew you were a hypocrite, and felt it as easily as you felt the feelings you had for him. You didn't want to push him away, you didn't want him to take you home to drop you off and ignore you all over again. Not when it would feel closer to breaking up than him not coming back to pick you up from school. “I like you and I don't care about the stupid rules, not when you like me too. I like you more than just the sex and that's saying a lot because you can be distant. And I like it when you kiss me, even when you don't mean to, I like it when you come over just to hang out, and I like your stupid car and its heated seats, and I like your smile,” 

The words came out in a rush, “I used to like that you ignored me and now I just hate it, and I hate your stupid jealousy over nothing at all, and I hate the way you make me feel sometimes,” 

“Like when?” His grip on the wheel was tight, knuckles white from the hold. 

“Like when you pull away from kissing me and leave me alone, when you don't show up to pick me up the next week and walk past me like you don't know me anymore, when you watch me dance with someone else and you don't admit when I'm right. And I hate it even more that when you kiss me and it doesn't make you want to stay but run,” your throat felt tight, your teeth working into the flesh of your lip, trying to ignore the way this conversation was making you feel. You didn't even notice him pulling off the shoulder of the road, not until he was putting the car in park. 

Unbuckling his seatbelt he leans over, catching your chin in his hand, pulling you to meet him halfway across the center console to press his lips to yours. You know he's doing it to prove a point, the slow kiss weakening you. Breaking the kiss, you're only just ghosting your lips over his still searching ones, “Seungmin-” 

“I like you, a lot more than I care to admit, and I-” he doesn't even open his eyes as he says it, brows coming together as if it pains him to admit it, “I want to spend all my time with you, I want to kiss you over and over until we can't breathe and I want you to want me as badly as I need you,” his nose bumps yours, the whispered, “please,” pressed right against your mouth, so close its as if it came from your mouth too. 

And you can't help yourself from clinging to him, pulling him by his shirt, hands fisted in the fabric as he devours you. His hand slid behind your ear cupping your skull to get you as near as he could and still he needed you closer. With his free hand, he clicked your seatbelt button, needing it off of you. It was easy enough to follow his instructions, even the silent ones after so long of knowing each other in movements instead of words. 

Pushing out of your seat you made the climb over to his side, his chair pushed back to give you room when between him and the steering wheel. Your skirt bunching around your hips, now short enough to be a belt in this position; arms wrapping around his neck as he holds your waist, keeping you steady as your knees dig into the sides of the seat. He doesn't give you much time to wait before his mouth is back on you, his control slipping as you meet him with the same need, his exploration of you turning messy in seconds. 

It's when he starts to kiss down your jaw, mouth open and hot against your skin that you feel how hard he has gotten, pressed against your thigh as you roll your head back for him. He drags his teeth over your neck, kissing away the trail, groaning at the taste of you. He wants more, needs more, hips rolling up into your as if that bit of friction would fix anything. It didn't matter how many times he had you, he would need more, needed to hear you say his name like you did now, meeting him with a slow tantalizing grind back down on him. 

Your nails scratched along his scalp, gripping his hair with one hand as the other wedges between you two fiddling with the button on his pants. “We don't have to,” he's gasping, the car steaming up. The snow thickened against the windshield, the wipers cut off once he had pulled over.

“I want to,” you say against his mouth, relishing in the way he gasps as soon as your hand grips him. He's never been so whiny before, vocal as you rise on your knees, panties pushed to the side as you drag his tip through your slick folds.“Tell me if you want me to stop,” but he's shaking his head, nose brushing your cheek, hips pushing up to try and catch your entrance before you can think about stopping. 

“No, don't stop,” hands on your hips holding you hard enough to bruise the second he slips in an inch. “Please don't stop,” 

The stretch makes you gasp, forehead to his as he tries to keep himself from pushing all the way in so fast. But you don't care, you want him as deep as he will go, as close as you can get him. Sinking down you take in the overwhelming feeling, hand falling to your stomach as you moan, “You're so-” the words won't even form anymore, brain finding it hard to make connections to your mouth now that you had him this far in.  

“You always feel so fucking good,” Seungmin groans, body melting into the seat, the warmth of the heater only making the two of you flushed and easily pliable. “I knew it that first time that your pussy was made for me,” he rolls his hips finding any room that he can to give his shallow thrusts, his pelvis pressed to your clit making you blink hard. “Can you feel it?” 

“Yes-” the word a confession as you find your own pace, grinding your hips, finding a rhythm that would have you finishing without much effort, but you know it's because it's him, the way he knows your body, fits you so well. His nails scratching at your clothes, finding a grip so that he can use you as leverage to rock into you, tip pressed right to your g-spot at this angle. 

“You're so fucking perfect, how could I not like you, how could I not think about you and only you,” his puppy dog eyes watching you, his hair a disheveled mess, brows close together as he whimpers again. “Look at you,” his sweet mewls fill up the space, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his seat as you drag your hips back and forth on him.“So pretty riding my cock so desperately,” 

“I want you to cum for me, please, please,” you can't even keep yourself up anymore, crowding his space, pressing your lips back to his as he takes over, and you know he's cumming the second he starts to tremble, mouth frozen in a moan as you catch the sound in the back of your throat. Your own climax triggered by the sight of his, by the feeling of being so full. He can't even stop himself from using your hips to ride back down on him, wanting to keep you right where you were, full of him in every way. 

You wrap your arms around him, his face tucked into your neck, the light kisses over your still hammering pulse only making it flutter longer than calm down. It's not until you pull back to look at him that you see that hazy smile on his features. “Come home with me? Spend the night,” 

His smile only grows, spreading across the expanse of his face until he's nodding, “I do have a key, maybe I could stay longer than just the night…” his eyes caught on the way you smile right back at him. 

“As long as you want, since I happen to like you, I could keep you around for a long, long time,” both your smiles caught against each other's lips right before he's back to kissing you. 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @chasingthatjjunie @possum-playground @ch4nn13luv @izzyy-stuff @jellymochii @yeoningz @filmnings want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[ugartecoco]

anyway we can all thank bruno for this he orchestrated the whole thing he told me himself

[hoe4hotchner]

Drawer | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Gn!reader CW: Fluff. Haley is still alive in this one… but they're divorced and she's not mentioned, so don't worry about her. WC: 0.8k

This is part of #Teddy-ber hosted by @angellsell

           The kitchen was quiet, save for the soft clinking of plates as you set the table. The sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, making everything feel cozy and safe. You glanced over at the small drawer beside the fridge, the one neither of you opened often, yet always ended up filling with random things. You smiled, shaking your head. The infamous junk drawer - every home had one, but yours and Aaron's had its own kind of charm.

           It all started off simple, as these things often do. A place for the odd rubber band, a spare battery, maybe a pen or two. But over time, it grew, much like your relationship with him, becoming a repository for memories, a snapshot of your life together in the most ordinary and yet extraordinary way.

           You wandered over to the drawer, giving in to the curiosity, and pulled it open. The first thing that caught your eye was a tiny, half-used notepad. You chuckled, remembering how Aaron had tried to create a system and used it to make a grocery list - once. His tidy handwriting took up the first half of the page: Apples, cereal, milk, eggs. The essentials. Then came your scribbles, messier but full of character: Chocolate, wine, ice cream. It was a small, unspoken dance between the two of you, his practicality meeting your indulgence. He’d teased you about your sweet tooth but always made sure to grab a bar of your favorite chocolate when he went to the store.

           Underneath the notepad was an old, crinkled paperclip. Nothing special at first glance, but you knew better. This particular clip had been straightened and twisted into some sort of abstract shape during one of Aaron’s late-night phone calls with the director. He had a habit of fiddling with things when he was deep in thought or conversation, his mind constantly running through strategies, cases, and plans. The paperclip had against all odds survived that night and ended up in the drawer, tossed in with the rest of the forgotten oddities.

           There was a small collection of mismatched pens, each one with a different origin story. One from the BAU, with the FBI logo fading from years of use. Another, much nicer, one with Rossi’s name engraved on the side - a Christmas gift that had mysteriously disappeared from Aaron’s desk only to reappear here. You smiled, remembering how Rossi had teased Aaron about it, accusing him of misplacing gifts as though they were case files.

           Digging a little deeper, you found a crumpled-up ticket stub. It was from a movie you and Aaron had seen early on in your relationship, on one of your rare date nights - some action thriller that neither of you had really been paying attention to. You had been too busy watching him try to relax and stop worrying about work. His arm curled around your shoulders as the tension slowly left his body. It was one of those evenings where he let himself enjoy life, and in that dark theater, you’d felt closer to him than ever. The ticket had ended up in his pocket, and then, eventually, in the drawer.

           You picked up an old keychain, shaped like a miniature Swiss Army knife. It was a gag gift from Morgan after a particularly tough case where Aaron somehow had managed to improvise his way out of a tricky situation (or so you'd been told) with nothing but a pen and a piece of string. Morgan had joked about Aaron being the new MacGyver, and the keychain had become a running joke between the two - until it, too, found its way into the drawer, no longer needed but still a significant memory.

           Near the back, half-buried under a mess of receipts and old to-do lists, you found something that made your heart swell - a small, child-sized sock. You chuckled softly, knowing exactly whose it was. Jack had spent the night a few weeks ago, and somehow, one of his socks had gone missing. You’d found it in the laundry and tossed it in the drawer, intending to return it but never getting around to it. The little sock was a reminder of the nights when Jack slept over, filling the house with his laughter and questions. Aaron was always softer when Jack was around, his face lighting up in ways that were rare for the composed man you knew.

           As you looked over the contents of the drawer, you realized that it was more than just a place for random objects. It was a reflection of your life with Aaron - the little moments that made up your days together, the way your personalities meshed in the most unexpected ways. His neatness contrasted with your occasional chaos, his seriousness balanced by your lightheartedness. And in the middle of it all, this drawer - a quiet testament to the life you were building together, one forgotten pen and grocery list at a time.

           You smiled, closing the drawer with a soft click, knowing that someday it would fill up even more. But for now, it was a comforting, endearing mess - much like love itself.

[luveline]

what abouttttt

zombie!steve and reader (at any point tho i feel like this would make sense after the college got attacked) are like scavenging in a pharmacy and steve wanting to make his girl laugh puts on the stupidest prescription glasses that he found near the front desk but then? reader comes over and hes like have you always had that mole? and he refuses to take them off even tho theyre far sighted which makes the trek back to camp slightly unsafe but he cant stop staring at readers face because hes never seen it so clear

thank you for your request<3

“I really need some chocolate,” you lament, pulling at his hand as you drift together down the aisle toward the snack section. “If they don’t have any, I’m going to kill myself.” 

“You better kill me first.” Steve pulls you back. “Seriously. Have the decency.” 

“Find me some candy and I won’t have to.” 

“Find yourself some candy, loser. I need some painkillers. I’m sick of dealing with you.” 

You push at his arm. He resists the urge to yank you in for a kiss, letting your hand drop to part ways at the top of the aisle. He makes for the back of the store where the in-store pharmacy signs hangs half off of the wall, green glass shattered like coarse sugar grains underfoot. Steve cringes, clearing a path to the desk with the side of his shoe. 

“You okay?” you call from a few feet away, unseen but close enough to be heard clearly. 

“Fine! Signs of candy?” 

“No,” you say dejectedly. He nearly misses it. 

Steve’ll find you some chocolate if it’s the last thing he does, but first, he needs painkillers. His knee aches like he’s been beaten, a funny burning string of pain lining the underside of his leg every other step. Ideally he’d like some codeine, but more realistically he wants advil. He doesn’t know where to start, never does, but if you come over he’ll pretend he understands what things go where. 

He’s lucky. He bends down and finds a bottle of motrin on the floor, looking up to find a shelf teeming with it. “Yes,” he says, ecstatic. Things rarely ever go so obviously his way. “Fucking yes.” 

He shoves as many bottles of tylenol in his various pockets as he can. Then he looks around for anything interesting. He’s sure there’s a ton of things you could benefit from. He’s been wondering about epi-pens and emergency precautions, because god forbid something happen to you he couldn’t correct. Love makes him worry. You’re worrisome, you’re so sad lately, he knows you’re a few days from another burnout. He can’t handle it —he’ll take care of you, but seeing you down for the count hurts every single time. 

He leans heavily on the counter and lets himself think. Absent-minded, he reaches out to spin the intact rungs of a glasses stand, prescription lenses shining against the glare of the sun seeping in from the store’s caved metal roof. “Plus two,” he says to himself, “plus three, what?” He grabs an obscene pair and shoves it up his nose, blinking in surprise at the way his vision blurs. 

He turns the display to the mirrored back and grins. 

“Hey, loser? You okay?” he calls. 

You don’t answer. 

“Babe?” he says sharply. 

“Oh, you’re talking to me?” 

“That’s not funny.” 

You appear at the end of the aisle with an arm full of chips, less blurry the closer you get. “Sorry. Don’t call me loser then. Oh, gosh, what are you wearing?” 

“Gosh,” he mimics with a laugh. “I’ve no idea.” 

His poor attempt at a southern accent makes you laugh too. “Nice glasses, Harrington. I didn’t know you needed them.” Steve crossed his arms in front of him. You drop the chips beside his sleeve and station yourself as he had, a mirror, your smile charmed as you push the glasses up his nose. “You look ridiculous. Here,” —you take a nicer pair from the rack and open the legs— “swap them.” 

He would, but he’s looking at you, and he’s thinking, What?

You move your head away from him instinctively, but ultimately let him hold your face, his thumb on the hill of your chin, fingers curled over your cheek. He can see the little silver scars of a cruel hand around your mouth, and the cut on your cheek from a surprising wooden beam, but what he’s never noticed is the pigmentation under your mouth. The little wrinkles by your eyes. Hell, he’s never realised your eyelashes looked quite like that until now. 

“Hey–” he starts, though you’re already ducking your chin. “Wait–”

“Stop, you’re staring.” 

“Yeah, I’m staring. You always had that freckle?” 

“Long as I can remember.” 

“Wait,” he pleads, trying to grab your chin as you step away. 

“I need chocolate, Steve, I’m not kidding. You can do whatever you want to me if you help me find some.” 

“You will come to love that decision very soon.” 

You giggle like crazy. Steve swaps the less attractive glasses for the ones you’ve recommended and follows you down the aisle to help you look for your sugar fix. He nearly trips over a split can of condensed milk, and you might act like you don’t like him, but you catch him by the arm and allow him to hold on. 

He isn’t great at helping you look, but he finds a couple of bars of cooking chocolate in the baking essentials aisle and decides it’s good enough to head home with. You eat lines of it as you walk, your fingers pressed between Steve’s, a little dab of chocolate he wouldn’t have noticed otherwise in the corner of your lips. 

“You sure you don’t want some?” you ask between bites. 

He’s gonna watch you eat the whole thing. “No thanks. I’m saving room for Robin’s artichoke heart and refried bean combo.” 

“Would you take those off?” Your cheek twitches as you smile. Your eyes glow with affection. “You can barely walk.” 

“You don’t like them?” 

“They really, really suit you, actually. I love them,” you say, to his secret delight. 

“So what’s the problem?” 

He trips over his own feet and has to grab your arm to stop from falling. “That’s the problem,” you say, in love enough to smile even when the world has gone to shit for you a thousand times. Your eyes follow down his nose to his lips. 

Steve grins and ducks forward for a kiss. “Oh, sorry,” he says when the glasses bump your nose. 

You laugh and touch under his chin to help him out. You taste like chocolate still as he kisses against the seam of your lips, a quick but blissfully deep kiss, a handful of seconds where Steve feels like you’re one in the same before he pulls away, just enough to see both of your eyes. 

“What’re you looking at?” you ask. 

“You have chocolate on your nose,” he lies. “Want me to get it?” 

“Yes,” you say bashfully. 

He kisses the tip of your nose, then the corner of your lip. 

[ghostmaldo]

ꨄStardew Valley Headcannons: Artist farmer leaves a sketch for their love interest to find ꨄ

This took me so long to write, I’ll cry if this flops, but its fine ;-;

I might draw out the poses honestly… gives me something to do hehe Xp

No warnings, fluff, comfort, GN!Reader

Ask box: Open 💙

~Maldo

ᡣ𐭩 Penny ᡣ𐭩: Ooooh this sweet child, I just want to take her away from all of her troubles-

~It’s been a long day for Penny. She’s been spending most of the day tutoring Vincent and Jas, taking them out into the wilderness and to the library. Standing outside for a moment while the rain pelted the library rooftops. Of course, eagerly chatting with farmer while they ran around town doing their usual chores.

~ Between all that of course she’d have a altercation with her mother. Nothing she can’t handle but that dosen’t mean it dosen’t hurt any less. So, she practically dragged her feet back to her camper (RV? Whatever that thing is called).

~She reaches out for the handle of the door, then she stops. What this…?Her eyes blowing open slightly as she sees a neat envelope sticking out of the crack in the door. She see’s her name written in a sparkly gel pen as she retrieves from the door. Her heart starts to beat a bit harder in chest…

~She carefully opens the envelope. The scent of a sweet smelling perfume pulls at her heart strings further. Someone must have put a lot of thought into this little gift…for her…?

~Unfolding the paper from inside, she takes in a sharp breath. It’s a portrait drawing, of her sitting in fields. It’s gorgeous… It looks exactly like her… Penny marvels at each pencil stroke. Even the little smudges at the ends of the paper catch her eye. She almost feels like crying. And a single tear does fall when she sees the signature at the bottom.

From: (Farmer)

~The farmer, as if one Que, appears behind her. “Oh you found it! I was worried it might-“

~She can’t hold herself back from throwing her arms around the farmer and hugging them tight. The farmer returning the embrace happily. Penny didn’t know how the farmer knew, but she needed to see this after the kind of day shes had.

~She frames the drawing and keeps it in a special place her mother can’t find. Often looking at it when she needs a pick me up and instantly she feels a little better about life.

ᡣ𐭩Shane ᡣ𐭩 Disclaimer: Due to my own personal experiences/triggers I’ve been warned by my friends I shouldn’t play his route and I’ve only really picked up things here and there so it may not be perfect, but I still want to include him as he is still very deserving of affection. That being said, this is where farmer and Shane have a few hearts between each other and he dosen’t hate them entirely ^^

~Another late night walking back alone to his Aunt’s house from the saloon. His head is swimming with all the beer in his veins, swaying from side to side on his feet as he walks. Eventually arriving to his doorstep, through his blurry visions. He makes out his name on the front of his door. “Shaaane… thats my name.”

~His a bit confused at first. Reaching out to touch the letters of his name written in the sparkling gel ink. That’s when realized his name is written on an envelope of some kind. The confusion on his face only deepens. What kind of joke was this? He certainly wasn’t laughing.

~He grumbled as he fumbled with opening the letter. Revealing the picture of himself with his chicken Charlie… He blinks… and blinks again… He stares at the picture for a long time. His drunken mind unable to process what his looking at. At the bottom of the page he reads:

“From (Farmer)”

~He feels a tightness form in his chest. He almost wants to be angry the farmer left this for him to find… Yet… he thumbs over the thin strides of ink forming his face.

~After several minutes of just standing there holding the drawing, he carefully tucks the drawing into his coat pocket. Wondering inside and briefly forgetting about it as he throws himself into bed to sleep off the hangover. The farmer somehow finding themselves into his dreams.

~He won’t bring up the drawing for a few days I think. Not exactly knowing what to say. It isn’t until he sees the farmer one random afternoon buying supplies from Marnie that he catches them before they leave.

“Uhh, thanks for this.” He takes the folded piece of paper out from his pocket, unable to look the farmer in their eyes. “It’s nice…”

ᡣ𐭩Maru ᡣ𐭩

She’s having her afternoon sit near the saloon. Enjoying the warm air and peaceful chirping of the birds near by. Penny usually does by to sit with her sometimes, but she’s pleasantly surprised to find the farmer waving at them. A brand new battery pack in their hand, instantly she perks up, wondering if perhaps…

~ It is! She’s overjoyed to receive another battery pack from the farmer. Maru already knows the exactly project she’ll use it for. She waves the farmer good bye as they have other things to do.

~Once they’ve gone. Something feels different… about this battery pack. Sitting back down and inspecting the object more closely. She noticed theres something attached to the battery. An envelope with her name written on it. “Hmmm?”

~Cursorily, she thumbed the letter open. Using the upmost of care to unravel the drawing inside. Her eyes went wide with surprise. A drawing of her at the clinic writing something on a clipboard. It was so… life like. Just by looking it over, Maru could tell it was done with care. She smiled fondly. A loud, she read: “From, (Farmer)

~Quickly, she hurried after the farmer, hoping they hadn’t gotten to far. Seeing them about to head back to their farm, she blitzed it. Hugging them from behind as she reached them. “Thank you farmer! This is the best!”

~Another one to frame it and place it somewhere special. Considers it one of her most prized possessions.

ᡣ𐭩Sebastian ᡣ𐭩

~Lizard blinking at 10am in the morning. Sebastian reaches to turn the alarm off on his phone. He groans and grumbles for a few minutes before deciding to sit up and move over to his computer. He placed his fingers on his keyboard, the abruptly stopped when he felt a strange sensation on the pads of his fingers.

~Tilting his head, he spotted… an envelope His name written in a neat sparkly cursive. Ugh… he hoped this wasn’t a joke from his mother. He carelessly ripped the envelope open, though he was careful with the contents inside. Unfolding the paper, his eyes landed on a drawing of him… one of him working on his motorcycle. One of the corners of the page reading: From (Farmer)

~Sebastian.exe has stopped working-

~He takes a slow deep breath in, heart beating wildly inside his chest. He found the gesture to be so… sweet. Sebastian admires the piece for a long while before he can focus on anything. He places it somewhere safe but where he can still admire it within his working space. It’s all he can think about for the entire days (And probably for several days after)

~In the evening time, he purposely places himself near the mines so he can show his appreciation to the farmer. He waves them over as soon as he sees them. He becomes a little shy rubbing the back of his neck nervously, but he does want to say something. “Hey, I found the drawing on my desk… Thank you… That was very kind of you…” Will hesitate to go in for a hug but if farmer meets them halfway he will gladly embrace them.

ᡣ𐭩Leahᡣ𐭩 Disclaimer#2: I haven’t tried to romance Leah yet and I know the very baseline of her personality so I apologize (again) if this one isn’t perfect but also still wanted to include her.

~Leah’s been inside her small home for most of the afternoon working on her latest project. Deciding to take a stroll through town to take a small break and stretch her limbs out. She opens her door and catches the glimpse of something fluttering downward and landing on her door mat. An envelope? What could this be?

~ Inspecting the object, she traces her finger over her name. Some of the glitter from the Gel pen rubbing off. She can’t hide the smile that creeps onto her face. She’s a bit giddy over receiving something so mysterious and thoughtful!

~She opens the letter and finds the portrait of herself inside. She’s smiling happily with her house in the background. Lead is amazed by the penmanship. Her eyes glaze over every detail, her heart swelling with emotion. At the bottom of the page is a signature: From (Farmer). She lets out a happy squeal and lightly presses the drawing to her chest.

~Quickly, she runs inside to find a frame for the piece. Placing it on a special place on her wall where she can easily admire it. Then she takes off into town as originally planned. Now with a new motive in mind.

~She’s happy to find the farmer running around town. Lead quickly catches them and pulls them into a warm hug. “Farmer! I didn’t know you could draw! I love the gift you left for me! We should have drawing sessions together!” She’s just so happy and excited to have someone to relate too and the gesture was so sweet to her.

ᡣ𐭩Sam(son) ᡣ𐭩

~Okay, okay, so his already well into his morning routine before he notices anything. He comes back into his room to retrieve his skateboard when he then notices something tapped to it. An envelope with his name written on it. He eyes cursorily as he picks it up. Honestly having no idea what the letter could possibly be about.

~Opening it up, he find the drawing of him on his skateboard. A really well done drawing of him on his skateboard. “Wow.” He grips both ends of the paper and takes a moment to admire it. Eventually finding the signature at the bottom corner of the page. From: (Farmer).

~He breaks out into a wide smile. He can feel the warmth of his own face and his heart swoons. He places the drawing on his dresser before taking off without his skateboard. He briefly pauses outside, having mean to have grabbed it. But his brain is spinning so much he just waves off the skateboard and takes off on foot to see if the farmer might be wondering around somewhere.

~And his right. He catches them coming out of the community center. He approaches them with a smile thats returned to him. “So, when did you have time to sneak into my room hm?” He teases lightly, and they share a laugh together. “Hey but really, that was really nice of you. You’re really talented!”

~Another one to become shy when he goes in for a hug but once he feels the farmer wrap their arms around him, his content.

~He’ll stick around a moment to catch up with farmer, inviting them to hangout with him and his friends sometime at the saloon. He gives them one last hug before letting them get back to their work. The whole walk home his smiling like his on top of the world.

~ Tapes up the drawing somewhere in his room, his mom asks him about one time and he blushed the whole time as he explained the farmer gave it to him. Mom finds it sweet and teases her son about it.

ᡣ𐭩 Haleyᡣ𐭩

~ Haley opens the door to her shared home and finds the farmer standing there, mud and all, trying to place the envelope of the frame of her door. They stare at each other for a moment before he nose scrunches up as she notices the mud caked around their boots. “What are you doing?” She asks a bit dryly before she notices her name inscribed on the letter.

~”Oh! Is that for me?” She plucks the letter from the farmers hand before they have anytime to explain themselves. They stand there awkwardly as she doesn’t hesitate to rip the letter open. Revealing the drawing of her with her camera. Her face turns into one of surprise, a little oh leave her lips. it’s a bit hard to tell at first if she likes the drawing…

~Then she smiles gleefully. Spinning around with the drawing still in her hands and hugging it to her chest (not so gently as Leah but the drawings fine ^^). She goes to hug the farmer but stops when they realize they’re still covered in mud. So, instead, she gently lays her hand on their shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

~”You made me look so pretty! Thank you! If you maybe… clean up a little maybe you can join Emily and I for dinner?” The farmer happily agrees. At dinner time is when Haley hugs them properly now that their clean. Even going as far as to compliment the shampoo they used. “So much better now that all the mud is gone!” (It’s a compliment, I promise)

~At dinner time, the farmer can see Haley’s placed the drawing in a frame and has it in her living room where everyone can gaze upon her beauty capture by the farmer.

ᡣ𐭩 Harveyᡣ𐭩

~”Alright (Farmer), just take this medication as directed and make sure to stay hydrated okay? And try to be careful in those mines!” Harvey’s gives the farmer a friendly smile as they are discharged from their clinic. Linus having brought them him when he found them exhausted in mines some time during the day. He was glad to see they were alright and hoped they found some time to get some rest.

~As his going to finalize his paperwork and pass it on to Maru, he sees an envelope on top of his other paperwork… when did that get there? He read his name on the letter, lightly pulling it from his clip board. He rest up against the counter, pulling the drawing from inside. A drawing of him taking a stroll through the patchy area in town. It’s so lovely… it takes him a moment to realize it is him. “From… (Farmer)”

~His so touched by the kind gesture he just stand there for a long time. Maru has to come find him to notify him he has Marnie waiting for him and he quickly has to tuck away the piece of paper in his coat. Clearing his throat and desperately trying to compose himself. “Sir your face is a little red are you okay?”

Stutters out a: “O-Oh yes! I-I’m fine just a little warm is all.”

~His a little distracted throughout the day and he can’t seem to stifle the rapid beating of his heart. His already thinking of something he can give to the farmer as appreciation… but he can’t seem to find anything he deems would speak his gratitude… Oh well maybe…!

~After locking up the clinic for the day, he catches the farmer out of the corner of his eye. He hollers for them and smiles brightly as they approach him. He lightly scolds them for not being in bed and resting, but quickly forgives them when they show him the bottle of water tucked away in their overalls (Or however farmer may carry this item ^^)

~”Oh and thank you for the uh… letter you left me. That was nice of you…” Is a blushing red mess and his nervously fiddling with his hands. “Um don’t worry about the bill this time. I’ll take care of it… just this one.” His startled when the farmer hugs him out of nowhere. The scent of the earth coming of their clothes makes his mind go a little blank., though deep down he enjoys the interaction.

~Has the drawing carefully tapped onto his clipboard so he always had it with him.

ᡣ𐭩Emilyᡣ𐭩

~Emily’s happily bursts through the doors of the saloon for her shift. There dosen’t seem to be too many patrons yet as she walked over to the other side of the counter. Gus appeares suddenly and catches her attention. “Hey! Secret admirer left this for you.” He claims with a wink as he slides over an envelope to her.

~”Oh! A secret admirer?” She looks at her name on the letter fondly. Closing her eyes as she holds it up above her face, almost if she were trying to conjure a face of who would have left this for her. The anticipation becomes too much as none of the faces she makes seem’s right. She impatiently opens the letter and finds the drawing of her dancing elegantly inside.

~She gasps and her eyes double in size…. Then promptly screams in absolute delight, jumping up and down on her feet. Gus shaking his head and smiling in the back ground while he prepares for the salon. “Make sure to read the bottom left corner.” When Emily hears this, she seizes her jumping and looks back at the drawing. From: (Farmer)

~ It’s at that exact moment farmer walks through the front doors. Emily sequels happily upon seeing them. Immediately running to practically jump into their arms. “(Farmer)! This is so sweet, I love it so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She gives you a tender kiss on the cheek that has farmer melting. Me too farmer, me too.

~Invites them to have a drink at the bar while she works. Every so often coming over to talk with them. Anyone can tell she has an extra pep in her step and her eyes are dazzling every chance she speaks with the farmer.

~ Frames the drawing and places it in a special spot in her room. Frequently picks it up and talks to it as if it the farmer themselves.

ᡣ𐭩Elliotᡣ𐭩

~Elliot is peacefully taking his afternoon walk, his mind a bit busy with thinking about his writings. On his way back, he crosses paths with the farmer. Seemingly in a mad dash to get where they were going, though they do wave at each other and smile before they disappear from his sight.

~Upon returning home, he instantly spots the envelope on his door. “My, my, what is this?” He says to himself, gingerly picking up the letter and delicately prying it open. Inside, is a beautiful drawing of him at his piano. A hushed gasp leaves his lips. He covers his mouth with his finger tips as his in pleasant shock. His eyes travel all over the drawing until he finds the signature at the bottom. From: (Farmer)

~He shakes his with a smile on his face. “Oh, that farmer.” He speaks lovingly. He takes the drawing inside where he sets it on his piano like a sheet of music. Theres something brand new brewing in his mind. He sits himself before the piano, fingers tapping away at the keys experimentally. Until theres a new song dancing on them. It’s not long before his scribbling notes on blanks sheet music.

~Before the sun goes down, Elliot decides to take one final stroll through town. In hopes to find the farmer still running their many errands. Lucky for him, he finds them doing just that. Snagging them as gently as he by the arm, he playfully swings them around. “There you are (Farmer)! If I may have a few moments of your time.”

~Sits them down on the nearest bench and shows them the song he wrote for them. (Yay swooning yet?) Together they sit and chat long after the suns gone down. Invites them over the following day so he can preform said song for them. “For your art of me. I was touched by it (farmer), allow me to show you my appreciation.

~The drawing sits on one side of his piano much like sheet music

ᡣ𐭩Abigail ᡣ𐭩

~Abigail is wondering the valley late into the evening. Hitting all of her usual spots and now headed for the graveyard. It’s a pretty normal evening when she first arrives. Then theres something laying on the ground that catches her eye. An envelope with her name on it, sitting in the middle of a gravestone. “Ooooh, spooky!”

~She reached for the envelope and looks over the writing. She turns it over a few times to see if there’s anything else mysterious about the object. When she dosen’t find anything more, Abigail opens the letter. Finding a drawing of her playing her instrument in a majestic looking manner. “From: (Farmer)”

~She holds the drawing up to the light to admire the details closer. She’s so touched by the gesture. She has half the mind to run over to the farmers house right now. But decided to simply find them in the morning. By the time she gets there, they’ll be long asleep.

~Best believe as soon as she wakes up for the day shes at the farmers door knocking. When they open the door, she dosen’t waste a second in throwing her arms around the farmers neck in an embrace. “Thank you so much for the drawing! It’s beautiful! I had to come over and say thank you!”

~She’ll stay awhile and chat with the farmer before heading home. But not before she invites them over to possibly have a game night or hangout at the salon.

~Frames the picture and has it in her room where she sees it at least once each day.

ᡣ𐭩Alexᡣ𐭩

~His outside throwing the football to himself before deciding to come inside. His grandparents are out and about at the moment, so he decides to sit at the kitchen table. Once his settled, he noticed something on the table. White envelope sitting undisturbed with his name on the front.

~Thinking its a note from his grandmother, he opens it without a second thought. His face drops when he sees the drawing of him inside. Football in hand. He gawks for a moment, totally caught off guard by the illustration. At the bottom he finds the infamous signature: From: (Farmer)

~He smirks at the discovery. Leaning his head into his palm while still holding the paper with admiration in his eyes. His ears momentarily perk up as he hears a familiar voice outside. His granny, and behold, the farmer themselves!

~Alex quickly gets up from his chair and quickly makes his way outside. Nearly running into his grandmother, she walks inside with a happy, knowing smile on her face. Chasing after the farmer, he catches them just in time. “Running away when you’ve left me such a charming gift?” His smirking but his mostly playing around.

~ Chats with the farmer and manages to slip in they should come over for dinner with him and his grandparents. To which farmer gladly agrees.

~While Alex was away flirting with the Farmer, his grandmother finds the image on the table and decides to place it on the fridge. Alex dosen’t have the heart to move and honestly its the perfect place for it.

[lsunstreakerl]

... I come bearing darkbull charles pov? 1k words, just a little bit of insight into him. trying to get his character worked out, so here u go, guinea pigs <3

hi! still part of the darkbull verse! mature/violent content!

Charles sighs, tipping his head back. He's bored, and Lolo had left him to babysit some hostage. The guy hasn't even been entertaining- blubbered inconsolably for twenty minutes before falling quiet. Now he's just curled up in the corner, rocking gently and sniffling.

He needs to get over it. It's not even like Lolo took anything vital- losing a trigger finger won't kill him. Maybe if they'd left it untreated, sure, but Lolo is nice, had cauterized it for him right after.

Charles' ears are still ringing from the screaming. He's drumming his fingers on his knee, humming along a few notes while he thinks about his piano piece back at home. He has a few more weeks to really nail it down before he goes with Lolo to preform in Maranello.

He'd asked if it was a Ferrari thing or an Italy thing, because he's getting old enough to realize there's a difference, and Lolo had just ruffled his hair and smiled.

Charles isn't getting his hopes up, but-

It might be both. He might be moving forward, getting his first star tattoo, moving up a junior formula.

He's been waiting.

He knows it's not all cars- Lolo comes home sometimes with flecks of deep ruby splattered at the edge of his shirtsleeves, tiny spots he didn't quite catch.

Papa had always been doing paperwork, settled in his giant armchair with a pen. Maman likes to meet with other women, discuss their children and real estate and their careers. They've kept Arthur out of it for the most part. He's young enough to know he likes Ferrari, but not yet old enough to understand Ferrari.

Charles is.

He straightens up as the door swings open again and Lolo steps back in, brushing dust off of his jacket sleeve.

"Thank you, Charlot. You can go to the car now."

Charles gets to his feet. He almost shoves his hands in his pockets before he remembers his posture, and instead straightens his spine and pushes his shoulders back. He meets his older brother's gaze.

"I will watch."

Lolo arches an eyebrow at him as he stares him down, waits for Charles to crack.

He doesn't.

"Fine. Do not tell Maman."

Charles nods, and in one swift movement Lolo pulls a gun from underneath his jacket, squeezing the trigger. It all happens in a single breath.

Charles' ears are ringing again, the crack echoing through the room. He forces himself to look at the man the body. It's slumped forward, head lolling at an unnatural angle as blood starts dripping onto the floor.

Lolo nods once, a decisive motion, before he's pulling the door back open.

"Come on, Charles."

Charles follows behind him, sticking close to his back as they step into the hallway. His brother nods at a man waiting outside the door.

"Dump it. I don't particularly care where."

The man nods before slipping into the room Charles and Lorenzo had just left.

------

Charles rolls it over in his head as he's sitting in the passenger seat. He's never seen a man killed until today, but- he's not stupid. You don't live in Monaco and not know how things are actually run.

It had been loud, sure, but otherwise... Charles is apathetic about the whole thing. His largest emotion had been annoyance, if anything. The man had been pathetic and spineless.

"You okay?"

Lolo is looking over at him, fingers tapping on the wheel. Charles feels his mouth twist into a frown.

"I am not upset about earlier, if that is what you're thinking."

Lolo blows out a breath, relieved.

"Good. Maman would kill me if I traumatized you already."

Charles tugs at a stray string on the edge of his jacket cuff.

"Max is moving to Formula 1."

His brother snorts.

"Well, yes. You've seen him. We knew that was going to happen- you just have to be patient."

"I am patient."

Lolo grins.

"Sure. Where is he signing?"

Charles slumps back into the seat, blowing out all of his air in a singular annoyed gust.

"Toro Rosso."

His brother winces, fingers tightening around the wheel. Charles narrows his eyes suspiciously, trying to read his face.

"Charlot- I know you guys are friends-"

"-we're not friends-"

"-but you should probably... probably let that one go, yes?"

Charles blinks. Lolo isn't making any sense.

He's not going to let Max go, is he stupid? Max is- Max is Max. He and Charles are predestined, all the signs point to it. There's no one else for him, and he'll be so pretty in red.

Once Charles gets him there.

There's a few things they'll need to work on, sure- his Italian, for one.

Maybe also his attitude, but Charles doesn't want him to change too much. Then he wouldn't be Max anymore. Charles doesn't want someone meek waiting for him at home- he wants someone to match his fire, match his drive.

He wants to prove he can harness him, bring him down to earth, wrap him in leather and silver and pretty things and keep him.

Charles wants to bring him back to Maranello or Monte Carlo, wants to keep him in his apartment, wants to see his permanent pout forever.

The way he always seems so angry- Charles can redirect that anger, he's sure of it. Or maybe he wants to keep him that way.

The idea of having to be civil and diplomatic with Ferrari all day, but being able to come home, to argue with Max-

It's a good way to let off steam.

Pretty, vicious, angry Max. Charles is excited to bring him home, to grow with him, to bring him on his arm to events. He'll get Max in that Ferrari seat with him, and things will be perfect.

Max will never want to leave, which is good. Charles doesn't think his heart would let him.

He grins at his older brother.

"It's okay Lolo, I will handle it. He'll be a good addition to the family, I promise."

Lolo shakes his head fondly.

"If you say so. Just be careful, yes? Do not go toe to toe will Redbull if you aren't ready. They don't usually get particularly attached- might not even risk getting into a fight with Ferrari- but if they like him..."

Charles doesn't care. He'll walk into Redbull's headquarters himself to bring Max home.

And then he'll never leave Charles behind again.

[sanjoongie]

𝑩𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅

👑Pairing: Wealthy born! Prince! Seonghwa x Inherited! Princess! Reader (f)

👑Au: Modern interpretation of Sweet Sorrow of Evil, royal au, modern royal au

👑Trope: established relationship (married), reincarnated, soulmate

👑Genre: smut, romance

👑Word Count: 2,294

👑Rating: 18+, MDNI

👑Warnings: dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, oral (m), aftercare

👑Summary: a peak into the life of evil queen! reader and guard! hwa reincarnate. their date night sure isn't private but what they do in private after said date is another story entirely...

👑A/N: this is for my small's birthday @smallfrye (modern! sweet sorrow guard hwa aka prince hwa au) this has been bubbling in our brains for MONTHS and i'm happy to put the first scene i tortured myself with into words so that you can read it. Thank you for being my braincell in this journey of our friendship. I am truly thankful for your presence in my life and i hope this fic shows it 😆

“Prince Seonghwa!”

Camera’s flash and click; all the cacophony that is due with a public appearance of a royal couple nowadays. You let go of Seonghwa’s hand, but not without some resistance from your husband. The tips of his fingers curl, indicating he doesn’t want to let go but knows what you’re doing. He sends you a small smile but then focuses on his public job.

He smiles and tilts his head, putting the hand that had been holding yours in his pants pocket in a pose. It was his job to look good and thus make the royal family look good. And he always did a good job in that regard.

“Prince Seonghwa! How’s date night?” One reporter shouted. 

Seonghwa laughed gently. “I was enjoying time with my wife, of course.”

The crowd of reporters laugh together as Seonghwa pokes at the fact that they in fact interrupted said time with questions and photos. 

Seonghwa informs a fashion magazine what his fit was dutifully. He brushes a strand of his bangs out of his eyes with a pinky finger and blinks and the camera’s click in quick succession. 

“Does the Princess like the long hair?” Another reporter shouts.

Seonghwa tilts his head flirtatiously. “Why do you think I’ve left it this long for so long?”

“What’s on the itinerary after this?”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Oh, just some boring husband duties, nothing impressive. I’m afraid my social battery is much depleted now.”

Then your husband sends the longest, most goosebumps-inducing look that makes you have to bank your face but you still swallow in futile. Your court-trained husband knows exactly how to affect you in public. And he takes great delight in testing your public mask.

You swoop in to ‘save’ your husband. “That’s all for tonight folks,” You insist demurely. 

The yells continue as you take up Seonghwa’s hand and pull him to the car that’s waiting for you outside of the high-end restaurant. You both settle into the plush leather and take a sigh of relief being out of the eye of the public. 

Seonghwa’s thumb passes over the back of your hand, as if he’s winding the string of a fishing pole and you’re at the end of the string. “Princess,” he says your title softly but you’re not falling for that trick.

“Seonghwa,” You open your mouth to scold him but he places a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth to halt you. 

“I know. I won’t start anything in the car. But just so you know…” Seonghwa lets the words hang in the air to tempt you.

You stubbornly look out the tinted windows. “Yes, Dear.”

Seonghwa chuckles lightly. “Your tone might get you in trouble later, dear.”

You turn, head in hand, lifting a perfectly penned-in eyebrow. “Should I have not saved you from the crowd of reporters, husband?”

A polite, playful smile pulls the corner of Seonghwa’s lips. “We both know what really happened.”

You quickly glance towards the front of the car to make sure the window that separates driver from client is up and then lean over towards Seonghwa. With your entire back to the driver, you whine. “Seonghwa, you promised!” 

Seonghwa reaches out and runs his hand over your hair. His eyes travel over your face, your body, simply drinking you in. “You look gorgeous tonight, wife of mine.”

You sigh in gratitude, a bit relieved. “Pretty enough to distract you from the not-so-private date, I hope.”

“You know when I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world melts away,” Seonghwa admits.

You grip Seonghwa’s hand. “I know. It’s part of the reason you married me.”

Seonghwa’s soft look twists into a darker, more lust-filled one. “And the other half?”

This time you can’t help but laugh. “Seonghwa, please.”

“You’ll show me when we get back home?” Seonghwa still prompts hopefully.

“Of course,” You agree. 

That is why you knelt before your husband, whose legs were spread on your thousand thread count sheet on your bed. You subserviently removed his designer shoes and put them to the side. Next came off his socks. You then stood up on your knees, reaching for his belt. 

Seonghwa’s fingers quickly grip your wrist tightly. “Slower, dear. You promised adoration, not a quickie.”

“Yes, Prince,” You intone quietly. 

Seonghwa lets go of your wrist and allows you to proceed. You place both of your hands on Seonghwa’s knees. You squeeze his thighs, that tense in response back. You methodically squeeze up his leg until you can see that he is hard under his baggy slacks. Swallowing loudly, you dip your head to mouth at the imprint of his cock. Seonghwa makes a low noise in the back of his throat and you take that as a sign of approval. 

“Your Highness,” you say conservatively. “May I remove your royal shirt?”

Seonghwa’s pupils are blown but his eyes are lidded. “You may,” he allows.

There aren’t a lot of buttons to undo, for Seonghwa had already popped many for his date night look. His jacket is already dutifully hung up in the walk-in closet, so all you have to do is push it easily off his shoulders. 

Your breath catches in the back of your throat at how tantalizing your husband is at this moment. His palms are flat on the sheet, leaning his weight back to watch you work your magic. You can’t help but linger as your hands caress down his torso, following the lines of his muscles. 

“This body is wasted,” you murmur under your breath.

“Wasted on what?” Seonghwa chuckles.

“You should be sold to the highest bidder and then fucked every hour upon the hour,” your mouth says without a filter.

If you weren’t admiring Seonghwa’s body so much, you might have glimpsed the slight blush that clung to his cheeks. “Dear one,” he drawls. “Your mouth is getting you into trouble again.”

You drop to your knees again. You lick your lips as your hands reach for his belt buckle a second time. “Let me keep it busy then.”

Seonghwa does not stop you as you manage to free his cock from the confines of his pants and boxers. You sigh dreamily at his curved, long cock. As your husband is a dream in of itself, so is his cock. You suck happily on his cockhead, swirling your tongue around it. 

With a loud gasp, Seonghwa’s hand flies to your hair, needing a handhold immediately. His desperate cries only fuel your hunger for his cock, as you then bob up and down his length. You let your throat adjust to the length with each bob, and eventually you can manage to get him completely inside of your mouth and throat. 

The room echoes with the wet, choking noises but it seems as if Seonghwa is feeding off them. “That’s it, dear, gobble me down, you greedy girl.”

Nothing tickles Seonghwa more pink than watching you give him a sloppy blowjob. The sucking noises only add to the way your mouth circles around his length, eyes trained on him. You don't use your hands; you simply let your lip and tongue do the work. There's saliva all over your chin and cheeks and the bed sheets but you know that's the way Seonghwa likes it. Seonghwa likes knowing you'll debase yourself for him.

You reach underneath your skirt, and rub your clit through your thong. You know you're creating a wet spot on expensive silk but the need to indulge yourself burns in your lower stomach. You let out a small whimper as your finger pad brushes against your throbbing nub. 

Seonghwa’s eyes snap open. “Dear,” he croons softly, dangerously. “The only pleasure you should be getting should be from wrapping those pretty lips around my cock.”

You whine around his length but remove your hand from between your legs. He's right. He hates the spotlight but goes on these public dates to satisfy your need to be among your people. And so, you rewarded his time by being the one to admire him. 

In this moment, as the princess, he is the only one who truly matters, and that's all he wants. Because Seonghwa, above all of his needs, loves you.

Like a flip of a switch, you find yourself pressed against the foot of the bed. Your head is held in place against the mattress. Seonghwa is on his feet now, almost towering above you as you’re still on your knees. His tongue snakes out to lick his lips and your lower half tightens at the action. “Be a good Princess and swallow everything I give you.”

You drop your jaw in anticipation for Seonghwa to fuck your mouth. It’s still a sloppy job but it’s in no way rough like you expected. Seonghwa simply works in and out of your mouth of his own accord. Again, it’s very much about feeling like only he can do this to you; only he has the privilege to fuck the princess’s mouth. 

Your fists grab his slacks, one clutching to each thigh, to keep your wandering fingers away from pleasuring yourself. The only noises you can hear are the small, desperate gasps as Seonghwa chases his high and of course, the wet noise of his cock sliding in and out of your lips.

When Seonghwa reaches his climax, he tosses his head back, showing the line of his neck and jaws. You missed his nose scrunch because of this but his loud cry as he shoots down your throat more than makes up for it. You swallow everything, or at least attempt to, but when Seonghwa pulls out of your mouth, a tiny amount squirts on your cheek. 

Seonghwa clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You get so dirty when we do this.” He absentmindedly captures his cum with a swipe of his finger and pushes it into your mouth. 

Dirty is an understatement. You know your makeup is streaked, dry saliva and cum all over you. You’re sure your hair is a mess and so is your underwear. You are definitely in need of some much needed aftercare. But first!

You shoot to your feet, slanting your lips across Seonghwa’s eagerly. “You did wonderfully, my love,” you gasp between kisses. 

Seonghwa laughs under his breath, feeling a tad bit shy after the complete show of dominance. “You sure it wasn’t too much?”

You shake your head with a small, happy smile. “Nope. It was perfect. Help me in the bathroom? I’ll get a washcloth for you too.”

You walk to the bathroom and Seonghwa can’t help but note how, even now, after he just fucked your throat full of his cum, that you still manage to walk as if you are in public and waving to a crowd of your people. You can take the princess out of the grace, but you can’t take the grace out of the princess.

The two of you clean up and then lounge in the bath together. You have your princess crown back on, figuratively of course. You’re checking all the social media posts of your date, official and tabloids, scanning all the comments, good or bad. 

“Wooyoung,” You say your best friend’s name in part astonishment and part scolding. 

You hold your phone up to show Seonghwa. One of the reporters had perfectly captured Seonghwa’s bedroom eyes as he had peered at you earlier. Wooyoung had left a comment on said photo that was bordering on appropriate. 

Ym_ooyng: i’ll be performing my boring best friend duties tomorrow 😉

“Do you have a date with Wooyoung that I’m not aware of,” Seonghwa intones, not being able to hold his tongue when it comes to your best friend of a prince. 

“No,” You muse. “But I bet he’s planning an impromptu drop in to get the tea. You know how he is, husband of mine.”

You run your nails along Seonghwa’s inner thigh propped up beside you and he shudders delicately. You try to remind him through actions that Wooyoung can say whatever he wants, but you’re still in the bathtub with him right now. 

Seonghwa hums in acknowledgement. He dips his hand under the water and lets droplets fall from his fingertips onto your arm. “Dear…?”

“Seonghwa?” You put your phone away and give your husband your undivided attention. 

“You think we could schedule some getaway time?” Seonghwa asks.

You cannot help but turn around in the tub to look at Seonghwa’s face. He won’t meet your gaze so you use a wet hand to push up his downturned chin. “Seonghwa, look at me.”

Seonghwa tentatively looks up, eyes bearing his soul to you, and then looks away. “Just a little bit of time. To get away from the cameras.”

Your heart wrenches. You know that he’s become a public figure simply for you. But you’d throw it all away if he asked it of you. “Of course. I’ll speak to Jongho, get him to figure out what would be a good time--”

“Tomorrow.”

“Before Wooyoung can drop in?”

A small, conspiratorial smile pulls at Seonghwa’s lips. “Maybe.”

“Okay,” You agree. You turn back around and settle into Seonghwa’s chest, tucking his arms around your collarbone.

Seonghwa squeezes his arms so that they’re wrapped around you. “Okay.”

You slowly fall asleep as Seonghwa rocks you gently, humming a mindless tune under his breath. You are in and out of consciousness as he drains the bath and bundles you up in a robe. The last thing you remember is a kiss on your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips before Seonghwa mumbles, “Goodnight my fair princess. Sleep well.”

[magnificentmiraclenacho]

The salesmam x reader

Summary= A naive princess of soul thinks she can manipulate the salesman

One-shot

------

Seoul's neon haze cast a surreal glow through the glass of the underground poker den you owned, illuminating the dark leather chairs and the blood-red velvet curtains. You sat at the head of the table, an empress holding court, as your lieutenants scrambled to carry out your orders.

Your name carried weight here. You weren't just a queen; you were a god. And everyone who crossed you ended up buried six feet under.

Everyone except him.

The salesman leaned against the bar, sipping a drink as though he had all the time in the world. His perfect suit and that sly smile were infuriatingly out of place, like a wolf that had wandered into your den and decided to make it his home.

You hated that smile. Not because it unnerved you-but because it made you want him, and that pissed you off. Nobody controlled you. Not ever.

Which was why tonight was the night you'd prove it.

You motioned for your men to leave, and they obeyed without question. Once the room was empty, you rose from your chair, the soft click of your heels echoing as you approached him.

"You think you're so clever," you said, your voice like honey laced with poison. "Walking into my space, acting like you own it."

He raised an eyebrow, that smirk of his never wavering. "Do I look worried?"

"No," you admitted, stopping a mere foot away from him. "But you should be."

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a small device-a recording pen. Clicking it once, you played back the audio you'd taken earlier that day: his voice, smooth and clear, discussing the mechanics of the games with some poor fool who owed you money.

"You've been sloppy," you said, holding the pen up like a trophy. "And now I have proof. One little slip, and I could have you ruined. Arrested. Maybe even killed, if the right people hear this."

For the first time, his smirk faded. Just a flicker, but you saw it. That tiny crack in his armor sent a thrill down your spine.

"You've been playing me, Salesman," you continued, taking a step closer. "But now? I own you."

You expected him to lash out. To beg, even. But instead, he did something far worse-he started laughing.

"Is that what you think?" he said, his voice low and calm.

You frowned. "You should be more worried. I hold all the cards now."

His eyes darkened, and the energy in the room shifted so suddenly it made your skin crawl. Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, twisting it just enough to make the pen fall to the floor.

The next thing you knew, he had you pinned against the wall, his hand wrapped tightly around your throat-not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who was in control.

"You think you can outsmart me?" he hissed, his face inches from yours. "That's cute. But let me teach you something, Y/N."

You struggled against him, but his grip was unrelenting. For the first time in years, you felt the faint sting of fear creeping up your spine.

"You're used to being the one pulling the strings," he said, his voice cold and measured. "But you forget who brought you into this game. I don't play by your rules. You play by mine."

Your nails dug into his arm, but he didn't flinch.

"And that recording?" he continued, his smirk returning. "Did it ever occur to you that I let you have it? That I wanted to see what you'd do with it? You're predictable, Y/N. You're good at chaos, but when it comes to strategy, you're nothing but a blunt instrument."

Your breath hitched as his grip on your throat tightened just enough to make your heart race.

"You don't control me," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You never did. And if you ever try something like this. again, I'll make sure you remember exactly where you stand. Do you understand me?"

You glared at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to fight back. But the look in his eyes stopped you. He wasn't bluffing. He was the only person who had ever dared to push you this far- and the terrifying part was, you liked it.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

You swallowed hard, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. "I understand."

He released you, stepping back as though nothing had happened. You gasped for air, your hands trembling with a mix of fury and exhilaration.

"Good," he said, straightening his suit. "Now clean up this mess and stop wasting my time. You're better than this petty nonsense."

He turned to leave, but before walking out the door, he glanced over his shoulder. "And Y/N? Don't forget-if you come at me again, you'd better be prepared to lose."

As the door closed behind him, you stood frozen, your mind racing. For the first time in your life, you weren't sure if you wanted to kill someone-or follow them to the ends of the earth.

----

[niallerspayno]

Temporary Fix - Chapter One

Masterlist

The hotel room is quiet now, save for the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of sheets as Niall shifts in his sleep. You sit at the edge of the bed, the fabric crumpled beneath you, and tug your shirt over your head. You should leave. That’s the rule—no overnight stays.

But you hesitate, your gaze drifting to him.

He’s lying on his stomach, the sheets twisted around his waist. His cheek is pressed into the pillow, his hair a tousled mess, and his lips—God, his lips—still slightly swollen from hours spent pressed against yours. A sigh slips out before you can stop it, and you quickly glance away.

This wasn’t supposed to be complicated. It’s not like there weren’t rules. You remember them clearly, etched into the napkin he scribbled on that night in the lounge of the tour bus.

It had started innocently enough. Another night on tour, the adrenaline of the show slowly wearing off as the two of you lounged on the couch, beers in hand. You were both exhausted but content, laughing about some prank Louis had pulled earlier in the day.

“That was mental,” Niall had said, shaking his head. “The crowd tonight was unreal.”

You’d nodded, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Yeah. I need to sleep for a week after this tour ends.”

“Too right.” He took a sip of his beer and then, out of nowhere, asked, “You ever just… miss it?”

“Miss what?” you’d asked, not bothering to open your eyes.

“A good shag,” he replied, his voice low and casual. “Without the drama, you know?”

Your laugh came out louder than you intended, and you could feel his eyes on you as you tilted your head to look at him. His expression was serious, but there was a flicker of something mischievous in his blue eyes.

“Every damn day,” you admitted with a shrug.

He grinned then, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “So why don’t we fix that?”

“What?” You’d blinked at him, unsure if he was joking.

“You and me,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “No strings, no drama. Just when we feel like it.”

It sounded like a bad idea—a disaster waiting to happen. And yet, something about the ease in his voice, the comfort of being with him, made you pause.

“Okay,” you said finally. “But we need rules.”

He smirked, pulling a pen from the table and grabbing a napkin. “Alright, boss. Lay ’em on me.”

“First rule,” you said, leaning toward him, “no catching feelings. If one of us starts feeling… you know…”

“Madly in love?” he teased, grinning.

“Exactly. If that happens, we end it. No questions asked.”

He nodded, scrawling No feelings onto the napkin.

“Second rule,” you continued, “we don’t tell anyone. Especially not the guys. I’m not dealing with Louis’ jokes, Liam’s lectures, or Harry’s raised eyebrows.”

He laughed at that. “Fair point.” He added, No telling.

“Third rule: no staying the night,” you said. “We’re not a couple, so no couple behavior.”

He hesitated, frowning. “Bit harsh, but alright.” He wrote it down. No overnights.

“And fourth,” you finished, “this doesn’t interfere with the band. If it gets weird, we end it.”

He tapped the pen against the napkin, considering. Then he looked at you with that lopsided grin. “So, no feelings, no telling, no staying over, no drama. Simple enough.”

You’d laughed then, grabbing the napkin and tucking it into your pocket. And when his lips met yours for the first time, it felt natural, like something that was always meant to happen.

Now, standing in the dim hotel room, that memory feels both distant and too close for comfort. You pull your bag over your shoulder and glance back at Niall one last time. His breathing is slow and steady, his face peaceful.

The rules replay in your mind like a mantra.

No catching feelings.

No telling.

No staying the night.

No drama.

But as you quietly slip out the door and into the stillness of the hallway, you can’t help but wonder when the rules started to feel like they weren’t enough. It’s temporary, you remind yourself. Just a way to make this chaotic life a little easier.

You shut the door to your room softly behind you, the quiet of the hotel room wrapping around you like a familiar blanket. It’s always the same after these nights—silent, empty. You’re not sure if that’s comforting or suffocating, but it’s what you’ve grown used to.

The dim lighting casts long shadows across the room as you drop your bag onto the chair by the window. The tour has been a blur of rehearsals, shows, and late nights. You feel like you haven’t had a moment to yourself in forever, but now that you’re alone, the weight of what just happened settles in.

Your mind flashes back to Niall’s face, to the way his hand had brushed against yours when he pulled you closer. You feel a familiar pang in your chest, but you ignore it, focusing instead on the one thing that always helps clear your head: music.

You walk to the desk in the corner, where your notebook is lying open, pages filled with half-written lyrics. It’s been weeks since you’ve had time to properly write, but tonight, something inside you is calling for it. Maybe it’s the quiet of the room, or maybe it’s the confusion swirling in your mind, but you find yourself picking up the pen and letting the words flow.

You jot down a title at the top of the page: Temporary Fix.

The phrase echoes in your mind, a reflection of everything that’s been happening with Niall. This arrangement, these moments between you two—they were supposed to be a temporary fix to something that wasn’t meant to last.

But nothing about this feels temporary.

You begin to write, the words coming slowly at first. You’re trying to capture the feeling, the confusion, the pull. You hum quietly under your breath, the melody forming with ease.

“I'll be your temporary fix

You control me

Even if it's just tonight”

You stop, chewing on the end of your pen. The lines are hitting too close to home. You’re still trying to tell yourself this was just a fix, a temporary distraction, but every moment with Niall feels like it’s more than that. It’s harder to ignore the way his smile lingers in your thoughts, the way his touch leaves an impression.

You continue, the words coming quicker now, pouring out as you try to make sense of everything.

“You can call me

When you feel like

I'm your good time

I'll be your temporary fix”

Your fingers shake slightly as you write. The rules you set, the boundaries you agreed upon—they were supposed to keep things simple. Keep things light. But every time you see him, every touch, every kiss, it gets harder to remember that. The lines are blurring.

You scribble down the next part, the lyrics you know all too well:

“You can own me and we'll call this what you like”

You stop, your pen hovering over the page. You can’t help but think of Niall’s soft laugh, the way he had looked at you tonight, as though you were something more than just a fling. Maybe you were fooling yourself into thinking this arrangement could stay simple, but deep down, you both know it’s anything but.

You close your notebook, the weight of the song heavy in the air, as if the words are staring back at you, challenging you to face the truth. This wasn’t just a temporary fix. This was something real. Something you weren’t sure you could walk away from.

As you sit there, the world outside silent, you wonder how long you can keep pretending this was just a temporary fix. How long you can keep lying to yourself about what this really is.

Next chapter

[mamabearcatfanfics]

Cairo Prison - InuKag

Sometimes, I write things just for myself, as a little treat. I might write my other favourite scenes here and there. Who knows, eventually I might have enough to string together a whole plot line. But lookie here @elkonigin and @coquinespike - have a little InuKag scene from The Mummy on me. If I ever find where I've put my laptop pen, there may even be some art to go with this.

Kagome swept across the courtyard, her anger making her simmer even hotter under the midday sun. She wasn’t sure who she was more annoyed at – the squat prison Warden for the obviously lecherous looks he was giving her, or Miroku, for lying about where he got the puzzle box. She shivered a little as they passed the gallows, not wanting to think too much about what usually took place here. When the Warden paused for a moment to speak to one of the guards, she rounded on Miroku, her voice a hissing whisper.

“I can’t believe you Miroku! You said that you found that box at a dig in Thebes! And now I find out you stole it from a drunk at the local Casbah! You told me a barefaced lie!”

Miroku looked a little chastened, but then fought back with a winning smile, hooking his arm into hers as they continued across the courtyard.

“That’s a bit harsh, Kagome dear”, he said, patting her hand affectionately. “We were playing cards, a gentleman’s game. I would have won it fair and square if he hadn’t got himself into an altercation. He left it unattended in his pocket. What was I going to do, leave it behind? He probably didn’t even know what it was.”

“You. Lied. To. Me.” Kagome hissed.

“What’s a little white lie between family members, ey?” He tried a winsome smile, which faltered quickly under Kagome’s withering gaze. “I mean, you’re not the only one I lie to old mum. But at least the lies I tell you are pretty ones.”

“That makes it worse! I’m your sister Miroku! Whatever happened to us against the world, together through thick and thin!”

Miroku looked taken aback, even slightly hurt.

“I’m deeply offended. Didn’t I come straight to you with the box? I could have just sold it, but I knew it was something special. And I knew you would be smart enough to recognise that. We both know you’re the one with the brains in this family Kagome dear.” Glancing nervously around, he tugged on her arm, trying to turn her back towards the way they’d just come. “And anyway, I don’t think this is the best place for a lady, so how about we just pop back to-”

Kagome glared at him furiously as he tried to make a run for the door, wrapping her hand around his bicep tightly so he couldn’t get away.

“Stop trying to get out of this Miroku. You can’t sweet talk your way out of this one. Oh, I am absolutely livid! Not only have we lost the most important part of the map, but we have to come here, to this place. You are going to stay here with me and see this through!”

She shuddered a little self-consciously. There were quite a few leering eyes directed towards her, and not all of them were owned by prisoners safely behind bars. Miroku patted her hand again, obviously trying to soothe her, and Kagome straightened her spine.

They’d been through plenty of scrapes together, her and Miroku. They only had each other since their parents died, social outcasts amongst the English elite due to their mother’s Egyptian heritage. She’d barely got Miroku back in one piece after the war, one of his hands shattered by a bullet directly through his palm. She knew it still hurt him, even though he never complained. He’d always been devil may care, even before he was conscripted, but since his return it was like he invited trouble. She was constantly worried about him. This was a chance to find the legendary Hamunaptra together, and there was no way she was going to back down, even if she was more than a little out of her comfort zone here.

Warden Mukotsu came back, his eyes running over her lasciviously, and Kagome lifted her chin in defiance, staring back at him with spirit. She pulled her elbow away from his grasping stubby fingers as he ushered both her and Miroku over to the rusted iron bars surrounding a holding pen. The locked metal door behind it probably led to somewhere unspeakable.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Wasn’t this what she had always wanted? A chance to show that she was not only a scholar, but able to go toe to toe with all the pompous, overstuffed Egyptologists? A chance to put all her knowledge to good use? She could do this.  

Clearing her throat in an attempt to make her voice as unaffected as she needed it to be, she turned her attention away from the locked metal door to Warden Mukotsu.

“So, what is this man in prison for?” she asked, attempting an imperious tone. She hoped it wasn’t something horrible, like rape or murder.

The warden preened under her gaze, and she turned her eyes forward again, not wanting to encourage him one iota. He was giving her the creeps. Besides, there was some kind of ruckus going on behind the closed door, yelling, swearing, chains rattling. What on earth was going on back there? Miroku was looking more and more like he was going to bolt, and she pinched his arm viciously to keep him beside her, gratified when he yelped like a little girl.

The warden chuckled, his dark eyes squinting in the hot, midday sun.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting lady, but he’s not human.” He spat derisively on the ground, and Kagome grimaced, tucking the toes of her boots safely back under her long skirt. “He’s a dirty half djinn, with the ears of a jackal. His words cannot be trusted. But I did ask him.”

“And what did he say?” Kagome asked, unsure if she actually wanted the answer to that question. What on earth had Miroku gotten them into this time?

The warden leered at her, before leaving momentarily to handle a disturbance on the other side of the courtyard.

“He said, he was just looking for a good time.”

The metal door burst open with a clang. Four guards dragged a prisoner forwards, their arms and legs wrapped in chains. Despite the handicap, he seemed to be fighting them every step of the way.

His shirt and pants were ragged, his grey, hip length hair matted and oily, hanging in clumped tendrils around his face. Both her and Miroku took a step backwards at the absolute stench that surrounded him. One of the guards walloped him on the head with a truncheon, hard enough for them to hear a solid thump as it connected. Kagome winced in sympathy as it smacked one of his canine ears, blood trickling onto his scalp, and he snarled loudly, baring some very obvious fangs. Another guard beat him again, and the other two kicked him in the back of the knees, forcing him to kneel in front Miroku and Kagome. He grasped the bars in front of him as best he could with his shackled wrists, teeth still bared in anger, amber eyes full of rage.

“This is the person you took the box from?!” Kagome squeaked in surprise, shuffling backwards a tiny step. She’d never seen anyone like him before, and the scholar in her was already wanting to know more. Why did he have dogs ears and fangs? He had slitted pupils like a cat – could he see things human eyes couldn’t? Where had he come from? Did he speak English or Arabic? Or some other language she had no knowledge of?

“Shush, not so loud,” muttered Miroku from the corner of his mouth, turning his face away from the prisoner kneeling in front of them.

“Who are you?” the prisoner demanded, looking Miroku up and down, then turning his eyes almost immediately towards Kagome, as if he’d judged Miroku’s worth and found him lacking. “Who’s the wench?”

“Wench!?” Kagome sputtered, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. The sudden smirk on the prisoners face, and the accompanying glint in his inhuman amber eyes, made her want to slap him. She’d been feeling a little sorry for him after witnessing his treatment at the hands of the guards a moment before, but now she was seething.

“Ah, hello my good man,” smiled Miroku, pushing Kagome a little behind himself. “I’m just a humble local missionary, visiting the prison to save the souls of unfortunates such as yourself…” He faltered a little as he watched the prisoner ignore him, picking at his teeth with the very pointed, and probably very sharp, claw on his little finger. He dragged a reluctant Kagome forward. “And this here is my younger sister, Kagome.”

“How do you do?” said Kagome, attempting a cordial tone, then stiffening as the prisoner looked her up and down.

“Tch. Well, I guess she’s not a total loss.” He turned his head away.

“Excuse me!” said Kagome, tapping her foot at a rapid pace on the dirt, in an attempt to mitigate the burst of anger that was beginning to rise at this man’s attitude. “Excuse me, Mr…”

“Inuyasha. Just Inuyasha.”

Kagome nodded, and tried her best to smile winningly at him. “Inuyasha then.” She made the tone of her voice as warm as possible, speaking slowly and carefully, her expression coy. “You see, my brother and I found a puzzle box that we believe you might be able to help us with.”

“Bullshit.”

“I beg your pardon!?” she exclaimed. Both Miroku and Inuyasha winced at her loud and high pitched tone of indignation.

“I smell bullshit,” Inuyasha repeated gruffly. “We both know you didn’t come here to dirty your pretty little shoes in this hellhole to ask me about some box, lady. You and this stuffed shirt came here to ask me about Hamunaptra, am I right?”

Both Kagome and Miroku’s eyes widened in surprise. They both looked around nervously, hoping the guards hadn’t heard anything, and moved a little closer to the bars.

“How do you know the box has anything to do with Hamunaptra?” asked Kagome, barely able to keep the excitement out of her voice. Now they were getting somewhere!

“Because that’s where I found it.”

Miroku leaned forward, his voice a little suspicious.

“How can we believe anything someone like you would say?”

“Wait, do I know you?”

Miroku gave a nervous chuckle.

“Oh no, I don’t believe- “

Inuyasha’s nose twitched slightly, and then his eyes widened in recognition. He glowered at Miroku.

“You!”

Before Miroku could even think about taking a step backwards, Inuyasha’s fist shot forwards, catching Miroku on the chin. Even hampered as Inuyasha was by the chains, as soon as the blow connected, Miroku was laid out cold. One of the guards whacked his already bleeding ear again, hard, forcing his forehead to bounce off the metal bars in front of him.

“Hey, watch it, fucker!”

Kagome looked down at Miroku, laying prone at her feet, then delicately raised her skirt a little as she stepped over him to get closer to the bars, her eyes full of excitement.

“You were actually at Hamunaptra?” she asked, her voice full of wonder. Inuyasha stared at her in amazement.

“Don’t you care that I just decked your brother?”

She waved a placating hand at him.

“Oh, he’s had worse, I’m sure he’ll be fine in a moment. But Hamunaptra! You were actually there?!”

She watched as Inuyasha’s amazement changed into a lazy grin.

“Yeah wench, I was there.”

She was so excited that she hardly noticed what he called her.

“You were there? Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it!” Her eyes narrowed a little in suspicion, and she moved even closer. “Do you swear?”

The lazy grin grew wider, a pointed fang lowering over his cracked lower lip.

“Every damn day.”

Kagome scoffed.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

The grin was still there, then it dropped away from his face.

“I know what you meant. But I was there alright. Seti's place. The City of The Dead.”

Kagome could hardly contain her excitement.

“What did you see there?”

“A lot of sand.” He almost shuddered. “And a lot of death.”

But Kagome would not be put off now. Not when she was so close. She could see the warden coming back, and she just had to get this information. She leaned closer to him, taking off her hat to guard their conversation.

“Inuyasha,” she whispered, her tone determined. “Could you tell me how to get there?”

He looked at her, and blinked slowly, his expression nonplussed.

“The exact location,” she wheedled, eyes shining with excitement, “pretty please?”

“You really wanna know?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“You really, really wanna know?”

“Yes, yes, more than anything!” she said, almost bursting with nervous excitement.

He beckoned her closer, gesturing with one pointed finger.

“C’mere then.”

She was now almost nose to nose with him, ears straining, eyes wide, ready to commit anything he might say to memory so she could write it down as soon as a pen and paper were handy. If only she’d bought one of her notebooks with her! But before she knew it, one of Inuyasha’s hands shot out, not to punch her as he had Miroku, but grab her chin firmly. And then his chapped lips were planted firmly against hers.

Before she had a chance to register anything more than shocked astonishment at receiving her very first kiss in such a manner, the lips were dragged away.

“You wanna know so bad? Then get me the fuck outta here lady!”

She watched as all four guards rained blows down on his head, dragging him backwards. She heard the warden laughing maliciously behind her.

“Wait, wait, I’m not done talking to him yet! Where are they taking him?”

“To be hanged.”

“Why?” Kagome gasped, her shock at this sudden turn of events evident. She grimaced at the wide grin Warden Mukotsu gave her.

“Apparently, he had a very good time.”

Kagome hurried after Mukotsu, almost tripping over Miroku as she strove to keep with the warden.

They climbed a set of stairs to a balcony overlooking the whole courtyard, Mukotsu sitting down to watch the show, while Kagome hovered anxiously, fingers tapping nervously on the balcony railing. She watched as Inuyasha was dragged up the stairs to the gallows. Other prisoners hollered and jeered as the noose was roughly forced over his head, then cinched tightly around his throat. He made direct eye contact with her, his expression stoic. What could she do? Suddenly she had a brain wave, turning to address the warden.

“What if I offered you one hundred pounds to secure his release?”

The warden shrugged, noisily snacking on a plate of dates on a small table at his side. Juice and spittle ran down his chin as he answered.

“I would pay one hundred to see him hang,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the gallows below.

“Two hundred pounds, then,” she bargained, eyes darting back and forth between Inuyasha and the warden, who ignored her totally. He stood for a moment, bellowing down to the guards below.

“Proceed!”

“Three hundred pounds!” Kagome said desperately. She could tell Inuyasha could hear their conversation even over the dreadful noise of the screaming prisoners, his ears twitched in their direction. She looked back towards him and saw him nod at her, as if to say, keep it going. The yelling suddenly grew quiet as the hangman addressed Inuyasha.

“Any last requests, dog?” he sneered, spitting on the trapdoor near Inuyasha’s feet.

Inuyasha pretended to look thoughtful for a moment, then spat his reply.

“Yeah, I'd like ya to let me go.”

The Hangman grabbed the lever to the trapdoor with a leering grin.

“FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS!” yelled Kagome, sitting down on the seat next to the Warden, her eyes pleading, then recoiled as he set his greasy, lecherous hand high on her thigh, fingers grabbing hard enough to bruise.

“Anything additional to offer?”

Before she could think, Kagome slapped his hand in revulsion, then gasped as Warden Mukotsu angrily turned and gestured to the Hangman. The trapdoor dropped away with loud bang.

“Oh no!”

She watched, horrified as Inuyasha dropped through the hole, his body jerking as the rope pulled taut. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. His legs kicked wildly, then stopped, and for a moment, she thought all was lost. The rope spun him lazily around to face her again, and she realised he was still alive.

“Ha! His neck did not break! Good! Now we watch him strangle to death,” jeered the Mukotsu, stuffing another date into his mouth.

Angry chanting began amongst the prisoners, and the guards shouldered their guns nervously. Kagome could see Miroku climbing the steps, staggering a little, but she didn’t have time to help him right now. Not when a man’s life and finding Hamunaptra was at stake. She leaned towards the Warden.

“He knows the location to Hamunaptra”, she whispered urgently.

Warden Mukotsu’s head jerked toward her, his expression incredulous.

“You lie.”

“I would never!”

She glanced back towards the gallows. At the end of the rope, Inuyasha was making horrible choking and gagging sounds, his face a grotesquely mottled shade of red. She had to hurry!

The Warden eyed her suspiciously, wiping date juice off the corner of his mouth with a dirty sleeve.

“Are you saying this filthy godless son of a dog knows where to find The City of The Dead? Truly?”

“Yes, and if you cut him down, we will give you ten percent,” she said quickly, hoping that this would work. Inuyasha didn’t look like he had much time left.

“Fifty percent.”

She hesitated a moment, glancing back to Inuyasha, and watched his eyes widen at her incredulously at her bargaining. She quickly turned her eyes back to the Warden.

“Twenty.”

“Forty.”

Kagome hesitated again, biting her lip. Inuyasha’s eyes were looking up at her, almost bulging out of his head, like he couldn’t believe her.

“Give .... give him .... give him,” he coughed.

Under pressure, Kagome shrieked, “Twenty-five percent, and not one single farthing more!”

The Warden leered at her, then yelled down to the hangman. The sunlight bounced off the scimitar in his hands as he swung, cutting the rope, sending Inuyasha plummeting to the ground. His bound hands scrabbled in the dirt as he fought to get himself onto his knees, coughing and wheezing, taking deep breaths. His bloodshot eyes looked up towards the balcony.

Miroku finally made it up the stairs, leaning against the railing with a groan.

“So, how’d we do old mum? Did we win?” he asked, looking with some distaste at the leering grin of the Warden, then down into the courtyard at Inuyasha, who was still on his knees.

Kagome smiled broadly, and waved down at Inuyasha, who glowered at her.

“Yes Miroku, I do believe this visit was a success,” she said, excitement bubbling up. They were going to Hamunaptra!

“Jolly good show,” replied Miroku, gently fingering the darkening bruise on his chin.  

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabbles- (TA) Eddie M.- Music Notes

Music has always been easy for Eddie to understand. It's been the only thing in his life that made sense. Sure, his uncle's love for him and how to drive a stick shift made sense. But nothing came as natural as just simply thinking about music.

He could see the music notes in his head, and within a moment, he'd have a song written out on some crumpled piece of paper. Hell, most of the time, the music was written on his hand in a dried-out pen, so half the notes weren't even readable.

But then that all changed.

He changed for the better when he met you; somehow, the two of you made sense to him. You fit so perfectly into his life. Years after high school, the bullies and the town mocking were finally drifting off.

Even now, years later, Eddie didn't care what others thought. You were the polar opposite of him, bright and pink. Wore heels and dresses. Your hand tangled into his as you walked into the bar where the band played later in the night.

"What do you want to drink, sweetheart?" Eddie asks over the current music playing and the conversation being had. Black leather rubs against your exposed shoulder. Even though the summer is raging outside, the man still wears his leather jacket and jean vest. Chains dangle down from his jeans pockets. As you walk around, he gives off a very particular look, like he is your protective bodyguard.

His hand spreads out against your back in a protective manner. He looks down at you, black curls framing his face perfectly. You lick your lips and think for a moment. You'd ask for something strong, but you know that Eddie will get you anything you want if you ask him. "I'll take something sweet," you say simply before pressing your head into his shoulder.

The plan stirring around Eddie's head has him lost in his mind. "Eds?" Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, "Huh, what's wrong, baby?" He asks with concern laced in his words. "I asked you what you wanted to drink while we wait." You repeat yourself; he nods and looks over at the bartender. "Just a jack and coke is fine." He says

"Are you okay?" you ask, staring up at Eddie. He hums, and you leave it there. Something is eating at Eddie, but he isn't going to tell you right now, so you pause and return your attention to your fancy little drink.

Gareth knocks on the wooden table with his knuckles, pulling you both from your thoughts. "We gotta get going, Eddie," Gareth says with a warm smile as he looks at you. You return the smile, and when Eddie slides out of the booth, he grabs your chin and kisses your lips. "A good luck charm," Eddie whispers against your lips before retreating to follow his friend backstage. You smile with a blush, warming your face as if you've been out on the beach.

Confidence seeps out of Eddie's body as he walks up the stage, bright lights blinding him as he looks out into the crowd. It's a larger crowd than average, and the hope that someone from a fancy record business is out there grows in his chest.

He'll take it if he could manage to get both of you out of Hawkins and anywhere else. He wants to give you a perfect life, one that leaves neither of you wanting for a damn thing. So he lets his fingers play his guitar strings, and the words fall effortlessly from his mouth.

You are never surprised to hear what Eddie has come up with. He never strays too far away from his roots. Songs about his younger life, ones about his uncle, and recently, songs about you. How you brightened his day in a way he never thought was possible, how your soft touches drove him crazy and simultaneously caused him to fall even deeper in love with you.

Tonight is no different. The chords start off hyped up. Drums echo through the small bar, and the songs shift more heartfelt about halfway through the routine. You're surprised at how many people in the bar stop and listen to the lyrics every week.

Eddie's voice echoes through the speakers, and that's the only sound for a long while before someone claps and whistles. Outside, summer cools as the sunsets and the band starts to shuffle from behind the stage. Opting every time to just go through the back door of the bar. You always meet them out on the forgotten picnic benches.

Sweat drips from all of their foreheads. They are sweaty but happy, so you wait for the gaggle to join. Eddie has stripped himself of the leather jacket, stating, "I don't wanna ruin it; ya know, it was pretty expensive." The. group laughs, but you know better. The coat is from the Salvation Army or maybe an old box of Wayne's clothes. Eddie, on the other hand, is hot and just doesn't wanna admit that wearing the damn jacket wasn't the most brilliant move in July.

Even in the sticky weather, you still like it when Eddie wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and moves you closer to his side.

"We should get some nachos," Eddie says before looking at you. You nod, and then he's gone, walking back into the bar to grab an order of nachos and drinks for the table. Eddie's friends aren't pushy about knowing the details of your relationship. All they genuinely care about is whether or not Eddie is happy, and from what they can see and hear from Eddie, he's happy as a clam with you.

A few minutes later, Eddie returns with too many drinks for his hands to hold, and a waiter is behind him with a massive plate of nachos. "Let me know if there's anything else I can get you," the waiter says before rushing off.

The nachos went over wonderfully, and the conversation was anything but light. It ranged from the next time they'd perform to when and where the next D&D session would be played. Where was always the critical question? For the last few years, it had been played that you and Eddie had shared an apartment. The living room completely transformed into a space that would hold the four original players and any additional ones that joined.

The conversation slowed as the waiter returned with a small plate and a piece of pie, placing it in front of you. "I didn't." Eddie interrupts you. "I ordered it; I have a surprise for you, sweetheart." The way a mischievous grin grows on Eddie's face has you worrying. It's the same look from earlier before the show started.

"What do you have planned, mister?" You ask, looking around to see just as much shock on Eddie's friend's faces as yours. "Oh don't worry sugar it's nothing bad, it's actually the opposite of bad." He licks his lips before getting up from the spot next to you.

Bending on one knee. "Eddie?!" You shout and know you're drawing attention to yourself, but you don't care. Eddie is proposing to you in the front parking lot of the damn bar.

You aren't surprised by Eddie's approach to this; you're just surprised that you're here now. "Well, what do you say, sweetheart? Do you want to marry me?" You chuckle and nod your head with excitement.

"Of course, I'm gonna marry you, dumbass." Everyone laughs because everyone knows that you're the only one allowed to call him a dumbass, but also, they all know he's a dumbass. "Good, now come here so I can pick this damn ring on your finger." He mutters, dragging your body closer to his. Your hand fits perfectly in his, and the ring fits perfectly on your finger.

"GOd you two are so fucking sweet." Band members said, 'ruining' the sweet moment. "Fuck yes we are; now go find your own loving and amazing girlfriend to propose to," Eddie mutters before squeezing you tightly to his side.

Completed on: 07/20/24

Posted on: 07/20/24

The Adults-

[roomsofangel]

GROWING PAINS . . . # CHAPTER ONE !

synopsis you hated christmas. simple. this year was no different, the only thing changing was the scenery when you decide to let your older brother, yunho convince you to visit your grandmother who neither of you had met but hoped it would do some good. everything was still the same — writer’s block, the winter loneliness, the way yunho won’t stop singing jingle bell rock, yeah, everything was the same. at least, until a certain blonde haired boy made it his mission to melt your iced heart.

warnings none

wc 745

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your hand held the pen with a firm grip, shakily tracing a few squiggled lines on your clean sheet of paper that wouldn’t be for much longer, teeth sinking into your bottom lip enough to draw the taste of metallic. “this is bullshit.” you set the pen down on the desk, running your fingers through the strands of your hair with a slight tug at your scalp, “do you think i’m allowed to fail?” you called out to your brother who walked in with his hands to his head, towel being used to dry his fresh out the shower hair

“you can just finish it after the trip,” yunho shrugged, aiming the towel to the side while you heard him mumble that he’d get that later and hurried to raid the refrigerator for orange juice, “need apple by the way,” he voiced while scavenging for a glass

you groaned, scrunching the paper into a ball and throwing it into—missing—the garbage can. “i want to do it now though,” you leaned your head back to watch your brother who looked as if he was a kid on a sugar rush, pouring his juice and grabbing a quick granola bar before slipping on his jacket and shoes while stumbling

“who knows, maybe you’ll find muse there,” he replied with a teasing tone, a kissy face being cut short by you aiming a pencil to his chest, “hey! i’m sensitive, ya know!” exaggerating a few of the words before laughing it off, “but come on, we need to get going, you got your bag?”

you scoffed, “of course i do,” leaning to the side to grab your drawstring bag before standing, “you ready?”

yunho hummed, and that was enough of a response for you. both of you sharing the same mutual thought.

no, the fuck not.

“do you think she’ll like us?” you couldn’t help but ask outloud, kicking a small rock on the ground while you walked alongside your brother up the driveway of your grandma’s house, glancing at yunho who shrugged, hands shoved into his jacket’s pockets

ears red and nose rosy, yunho cleared his throat, “she didn’t even like dad,” he amused, but you saw right through it. he was worried about the same thing.

three knocks on the door were made while you looked around the unfamiliar neighborhood that made you feel small. compared to the small overloaded home you and yunho were raised in, this seemed like a five star resort.

“is she even here?” you asked, and yunho pulled out his phone in a haste, checking the time and dialing a number

“let me check.”

“you mean we came here and you don’t even know if she’s home, yunho?!” you shrieked, your bag falling onto the ground as you found yourself running your fingers through your hair, hands on your head before you sat on the benches that resided on her patio, messing with the strings from your worn out jeans

your eyes scanned the neighborhood while you blocked and muffled out yunho’s ranting and worrying, gaze locking on a guy who had his hair tucked into a beanie and hands stuffed into his pockets while he had a mask covering most of his features. his eyes were pretty, catlike even.

messing with your chipped nail polish, you froze at the sudden turn he had done, eyes locking with yours. the cold winter air suddenly felt like summer heat and you blinked a few times to look at the ground, more-so at your hands that were getting a bit too cold

“okay, key’s under the mat, she’s out grocery shopping,” yunho ended the call and aimed the next conversation with you who nodded in response, standing and dusting yourself off while he kneeled down and lifted the corner of the WELCOME doormat to see a silver key. an extra. thank god.

hearing the click and the door opening, “thank fuck,” yunho muttered before entering, you walked up to the doorway and turned to look at where you remember seeing the pretty stranger

and much to your bittersweet dismay, he wasn’t still looking at you. instead— he was raking up snow from the lawn, this time without his mask and singing under his breath, or at least you assumed with the rhythm of dance he was showing while mouthing something—that, and you noticed the airpods in his ears while he stayed focused on his task.

maybe the temporary stay wouldn’t be too bad.

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[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

kinktober #14

Pumpkin Spice 🎃 / Alien Abduction 🛸

“We don’t do pumpkin spice,” Jack says flatly.

Bitty’s mouth falls open a little. “But — it’s fall! It’s what the people want! Aren’t you losing business to every other coffee shop between August and November?”

“No.” Jack swipes a molecule of ground coffee Bitty can’t even see from the butcher block counter. “We sell specialty coffee. If people want pumpkin spice, they go somewhere else.”

Bitty’s romantic daydreams of cinnamon-and-nutmeg-scented fall afternoons staring out of Zimmermann’s big front windows deflate in a gust of cold air. When Jack introduced himself ten minutes ago, he’d only fueled those daydreams — the sweet agony of a cute coworker crush, some eye candy to make slow shifts pass faster — but now, in front of Bitty with his strong, thick arms crossed over his soft, thick middle, he just seems like a taunt.

Bitty follows Jack’s lead and ties on an apron, then washes his hands. He tries very hard not to notice while he can loop his apron strings all the way around and lace them in front, Jack can’t. 

“Have you thought about selling pastries?” he ventures as Jack silently fills cold brew pitchers and counts jugs of milk in the fridge, noting down the totals with a pen he pulls from the apron pocket that sits below the overhang of his belly. He doesn’t acknowledge that Bitty has spoken, so Bitty rushes on nervously, “I just think people like to have something sweet with their coffee, and this is really the only high-end place in the neighborhood if you’re looking for —”

Jack’s cold blue eyes snap onto him instantly. “What’s your name? Bittle?” Bitty gulps, nods. “No, Bittle. Come on. We open in half an hour and you’re wasting time.”

“You can call me Bitty,” he ventures, grabbing a rag and wiping up some water he’d spilled earlier filling the cold brew jugs. “Everyone does.”

Jack doesn’t reply. Instead, he turns away to pour beans into the grinder’s hopper, and Bitty’s teeth find his lower lip. He is definitely tanking his first shift. Ugh. The older man he’d interviewed with had been so nice! So easygoing and fatherly, with a comforting accent that Bitty thought was Canadian but wasn’t quite sure. He sure had neglected to mention that the shift manager here was such a pill.

Tomorrow he’ll bring pie. That’ll sweeten things up. 

—

Jack does not touch the hand pies the next day or the next, which means that Bitty’s got a shitty attitude for most of the week. Nobody passes up his pies! It’s — well, it’s impolite, for starters, and more than that it’s bad taste. How dare Jack be so dang cute when he clearly lacks good judgment?! 

Except then, half an hour before the end of Bitty’s mid-morning shift on Friday, Jack says abruptly, “I’m taking a break. Can you handle things alone for a few minutes?”

Bitty bobs his head. “Of course! No problem. Um, can I text you if I have any questions?”

Jack sighs. “If you have to. You have my number from training?”

Bitty bobs his head faster. He sure does, and it’s burning a hole in his pocket. 

“D’accord,” says Jack, clocking out on the register. The word rings a faint bell in the back of Bitty’s brain — high school French, maybe? Extremely hot if so. 

He handles a handful of customers on his own while Jack’s gone — mostly young professionals dressed in expensive-looking neutrals — and even manages to get a decent tip when he’s able to calm a harried parent’s wailing infant by wiggling his eyebrows. He doesn’t break anything, doesn’t ring anyone up egregiously wrong, doesn’t even spill more than a few drops of freshly brewed dark roast. When Jack reappears from his break, the shop is still standing and there are even a few satisfied customers poking at emails at the cafe tables. None of which explains how surly Jack looks as he clocks back in.

“I think I did okay!” Bitty babbles, fixing himself a to-go cup of cold brew and dumping in plenty of cream and sugar. “Nothing blew up, obviously, and I reset the brew cycle like you showed me, and I even remembered to use a separate frother for the nut milk!”

Jack scowls. 

“Do you want me to make you something before I go?” Bitty goes on, unable to stop. “I could practice some of the harder stuff! Or I could try the espresso machine again?”

“I’m fine,” says Jack tersely, and he doesn’t say anything he doesn’t have to for the rest of Bitty’s shift. When his belly settles on the counter as he pulls espresso shots, he repositions roughly and sucks in. But out of the corner of his eye, Bitty notices him palming his gut under the edge of the counter. He’s probably starving. Jack’s been here since the shop opened at six, and he hasn’t even had a cup of coffee, for heaven’s sake! 

But when he goes to the back of house to get his things, there are only twelve hand pies left on the plate — and there were sixteen when he packed it up this morning.

Well, well. Maybe someone likes pumpkin spice after all.

[watsittoyah]

Before The Snow, Came The Flame…

Young!Coriolanus snow x blk fem!reader

Theme: Morally gray themes, talks of suicide, heavy sexual content. Possessive/Obsessive behavior. This is pure fiction and should only be consumed as such…

Previously

Chapter 01 A Rose With Thorns (Pt. 1)

(Rated M)

(Sexual Act 1- Oral sex male receiving, fingering. )

Evangeline-

Snow is dangerous to the living. Everyone allows their youths to play in it, but I know better. If you have too much of it, it throws off the balance of nature. If you’re not careful it can burry you alive and muffle your screams. Snow…is a threat to the living.

Coriolanus hasn’t come to visit me in the past three days and oddly, that bothers me. It’s almost as if I’m having withdrawals from him.

And I don’t like that at all.

“Good news Evangeline.” I hear Bugs’ voice as I lay there staring at the ceiling, contemplating on why I’m becoming codependent on Coriolanus’ presence. “I’ll be going home today?” I ask sitting up on my elbows.

I hear him fiddling with the lock and I raise a brow when I see him unlock my cell door and let it swing open. I stare at him for a moment and he stares back, but in an awkward manner.

“You don’t have to stay in the cells anymore. You have to be under surveillance for a little longer-”

“Then what’s the point in leaving the cells if I’m going to be watched? It’s like you’re letting a dog out of its cage but putting a leash on it.” I ask not even bothering to hide my disappointment.

“Coryo had managed to pull some strings to get you out of this cell. He told the Mayer of this district that it was inhumane to keep you in here.”

My skin prickles hearing that information. “Where is Coriolanus? I feel like he would want to be the one to tell me about this.” I ask slowly moving off of the cot. “He is on assignment. But he told me specifically to come and get you. If not me it would’ve been Duke and well we know how much bad blood there is between you two.”

I walk over to him look into his muddy brown eyes. Bugs wasn’t threatening in the slightest. In fact it was quite laughable to see him as a Peace Maker. He was thin, like a stick bug and I can bet all the lint in my pocket that I could break his nose with a simple palm tap.

But I’m going to behave. And when it’s dark and the district is fast asleep I will leave and never come back.

I was going to tell him thank you but he moves behind me and he cuffs my hands behind my back. “Sorry, there’s one more stop we need to go to before I let you lose.” He says in a sympathetic tone.

Of course there’s a catch, there seems to always be something with these people.

I was tempted to ask if this last stop was on the terms of the Mayer or Coriolanus? But that question became stuck on the roof of my mouth like thick peanut butter.

I keep my mouth shut and follow him out of the building. The sun feels good against my brown skin. Hell if I could drink the sun I’d get drunk off of it. My bliss was interrupted as I hear the whispers of the townspeople but I keep my head down.

“Devil child.”

“I hear she’s a wife of satan.”

“Poor thing.”

I feel my jaw clench hearing the comments but I keep my head down. “Watch your step.” Bugs says as he leads me inside of an infirmary.

Inside I see an odd woman with dirty blonde hair. “Ah, just the child I wanted to see.” She says as she peers at me above her glasses. “I’m not a child.” I fire at her.

No, no, no, don’t let them see the fire in you, Evangeline.

She claps her hands in glee and shoos Bugs away after he takes my cuffs off. “Come come, we have much to do.” She ushers me into a room and she tells me to sit down on the bed.

Once I’m sat, the woman introduces herself to me. “My name is Augusta Bleep. I am the closest thing to a medical doctor in district 12 and before you ask about my credentials, look around this room dear. I have my paperwork in order.”

This woman makes me want to drive a pen in my ear canal so I don’t have to listen to her. “It’s nice to meet you.” I lie as she gathers her things. “You don’t have to lie to me dear, I’m not the most liked person here in the district other than yourself. Children hate when they have to come see me and the adults avoid me at all cost. But that is medicine for you. Now, since you shall be staying a bit longer, I have been told to give you a check up and make sure you’re in good health.”

I nod and she soon begins. “Alright I’m going to check your heart beat.” She takes out her stethoscope and tells me to sit still.

The ice cold instrument touches my hot skin and I flinch hard. “Oh, I do apologize for that. I should’ve warmed it up for you.” I hold back the many curse words I wanted to spit at her. I just bite my tongue and let her continue…

••••

When she was finally finished, I was left feeling like she had violated me. No wonder everyone hates this woman.

I had put my clothing back on while she was scribbling down something in her notepad. “Miss Flame, you have a clean bill of health. I do hope you’ll stop by in the near future.”

I give her a nod. “I wouldn’t count on that.” I admit to her. She simply smiles at my honesty and tells me that I could leave.

When I made it outside, I see Bugs talking to Coriolanus. When his light blue eyes met my face, my heart started to ache.

I should run back inside and talk to Doc Bleep, because clearly I am having a heart attack of some sort. Why else would my heart feel like this?

“I’ll take it from here, Bugs.” Coriolanus tells him as he steps up to me. “Follow me. I will be bringing you over to your new residence.” He tells me as he turns on his heel. I simply obey and give Bugs a gentle smile as I pass him.

As we walk further and further to the edge of town, I notice how Coriolanus was silent. I’d figure he’d be elated to see me, or at least have some conversation. But instead I’m met with silence.

When we finally make it to a shack like house, he had stopped abruptly. “I’ll see about getting you better living conditions. But this is just about all that can be done for you Evangeline.” Coriolanus says as he opens the door for me.

I step inside and I was greeted by a warm fire. I gravitate towards the dancing flames and I kneel in front of it.

I then take in my surroundings. The shack wasn’t glamorous, if anything it was only slightly livable. I think the cell was a better fit for me, but this was fine. I’d be gone by tonight anyways.

I hear him close the door behind us and when I turned I was greeted by a red rose. Coriolanus had held it out to me and I stood up, staring at his gift.

“Forgive me for not coming to see you for the past few days, as a Peace Keeper, the work is quite demanding of my free time. But I’m all yours for the rest of the day.” He says waiting for me to accept the rose.

I take it out of generosity but wince when I feel something prick me. “Ouch!” I drop the rose and was about to bring my pricked finger to my lips. But he had grabbed my wrist and plunged the digit in his mouth.

As he sucked, I felt a shiver because it reminded me of what he did to me in the mess room. As much as I wanted to draw my hand back from him, my body stood frozen. My inner thighs throbbed.

Hell my slit started to drip thinking of his tongue assaulting it once more.

When he finally popped my finger out of his mouth he looked a bit pleased. “Forgive me again my little rose. I thought I had cut all the thorns off. I’ll be sure not to make that mistake again.”

“It’s..fine. It was just a simple mistake.” I go to bend down to grab the rose but he was quicker and he tossed it into the fire.

He doesn’t say anything else. Only stepped closer to me. “A rose with thorns…pity it went to waste. But enough about that, how about I take you out tonight? To celebrate your freedom.”

I hide my spike of anger. “Freedom?” I ask keeping my voice calm. “Yes, I know this isn’t your home. But it can be something. I can be your home.” He says as he brings his warm hands to my face. “Why are you being kind to me, Coriolanus? I’m not District, I’m not Capital. I’m a stranger. And hardly anyone here likes me. Why?”

He cocks his head at me. “Because you’re special. Like the golden rose I told you about. And you did say yes to me.”

Hearing him say that last sentence made me feel cold all over even though I was still by the fire. “I bet you say that to all the girls here.” I say staring up into his eyes.

His hand twitches against my face. “No just you. Only you. Because you’re special Evangeline. Would it be okay if I spend the night with you?” I move his hands off of me and take a step back.

“Thank you for pulling the strings for getting me…this.” I spread my arms wide and turn my back to him. Staring deeply into the fire. Watching as the flames lick up the blackened fire place.

He can’t stay, he can’t spend the night because then I have to stay one more night.

I feel his arms wrap around me and my body tenses. “You’re welcome…” I feel his nose brush against the back of my neck and I hear him inhale. “Can I stay the night, Evangeline?” He asks again. “Wont you get in trouble for being away from the bunks?” I ask him. “I’ll have people looking out for me. Besides, my little rose needs some extra attention since I’ve been away.”

I hold the groan in because he’s going to ruin my plans. I turn in his arms and bring my arms up so my hands can rest on his broad shoulders. “I guess I can let you stay the night. To show my gratitude.” He holds my chin between his thumb and index finger and studies my face.

“You wouldn’t leave in the dead of night would you?” He asks as if he’s reading my thoughts. I don’t let any emotion show on my face. “No, of course not. I miss my family but I’m sure they think I’m dead. Wouldn’t they have came for me by now?” He nods at my question as if reassuring himself. “You know, from this angle…you have little golden flecks in your eyes.” He murmured.

I swallow hard because this is exhausting, trying to keep masking my eyes. So I close them and move my face close to his. I then bury my head in his chest and move my arms so that it looks like I’m hugging him.

“If you’re going to spend the night, then please let me prepare dinner for you. As a thank you.”

Maybe if he leaves, I can just slip away.

I think to myself as my eyes cool off. “Don’t worry about dinner, we can go to the hub tonight and get some food there. And don’t worry about anyone bothering you. I’ll be there.” Coriolanus says as he rests his chin on my head.

I let this go because if I let my emotions get the best of me…I’ll surely burn this place down to the ground.

Coriolanus-

She’s pulling away from me like a mouse trying to run from her capture. I know she wants to run but I won’t let that happen.

It was night time and I was ushering Evangeline into the hub. I felt all eyes on her as she entered. If she felt uncomfortable, she didn’t let it show. In fact she owned the attention.

A woman with that kind of confidence was surly a woman I would want to have by my side. She would be a wonderful addition to the Snow family.

I watch as she takes in her surroundings. “Coryo. Evangeline.” Bugs greets as him and Duke both walks to us. Duke was drinking something, probably white liquor, and glaring at Evangeline.

I step in front of her and make sure I make eye contact with him as I speak. “Hello gentlemen. I hope you don’t mind me brining Evangeline along. I figured I could show her around seeing that she’s not seen as a threat.” I make sure that I put the emphasis on the word threat when I speak and Duke just grunts.

“Fine by me, but make sure you keep your little monster on a leash tonight. Wouldn’t want any fires to start out of nowhere.” He spits past me.

I can feel an odd heat from Evangeline. When I look at her she kept her head held high. “I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior. Though I’m sure a mutt such as yourself should be the one on a leash.” She says with a straight face.

Bugs snickers at her comment and I can’t help but feel a smile crawl across my lips. My little rose is letting her thorns cut deep tonight. I like it.

Duke just walks away, looking red in the face. “I’ll go talk to him. We’re going to be sitting in the front row for the entertainment if you two are interested in being close by.” Bugs excuses himself then and runs after Duke. I turn to her and lean down to whisper.

“You know Duke is definitely going to find a way to get you back for that comment.” She shrugs. “I’d like to see him try.” For a split second I swear I see one of her eyes turn to a dark amber color. But she blinks and they’re both brown.

“Would you like anything to drink?” I offer. “I’ll have some white liquor no ice.” I nod and as I start to walk away I see two men looking at Evangeline. They were whispering and smirking.

I turn back to her then. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” Before she could comment I lean down and I kiss her temple, showing them that she’s mine.

As I stand by the bar to get our drinks I see Evangeline talking with Sinder. She was smiling at her and touching her swollen belly.

Why hasn’t she smiled like that with me? I’ve given her a taste of freedom, shouldn’t she be happy that she’s with me and not in that cell?

“Here you go Coryo.” The bartender says handing me two drinks. I accept them and as I make my way to her, I feel this burn in my chest.

I want her to hunger for me, I want her to ache for me just as I did when I was away from her.

All those nights that I was away from her made me feel unhinged. I know I am slowly going mad, but what’s a little madness if I can’t enjoy my little rose.

She had her hand on her neck as she spoke to Sinder, and that’s when I’m reminded of when I had my hand around her throat. To control her breathing, to have her attention on me. It was euphoric.

I feel my cock twitch as I see her lips slide across her bottom lip. And her eyes glance my way.

Get control over yourself Coriolanus. You’re not a boy who gets excited to see flesh.

I tell myself as I hand her the glass. “Thank you.” She tells me as our hands brush. Her touch was hot to the touch.

Hmm?

“Sinder, it’s so nice to see you. Though I don’t think the hub is a place for a woman in your condition.” I say as she avoids eye contact with me.

“Well you know me, I’m just here to support my husbands band. Oh there goes Annabelle. Evangeline I’ll be seeing you.” She rushes away from us and I wonder something.

“What were you and Sinder Cobble talking about?” I ask as I watch her take her drink in one gulp. She doesn’t even flinch. “Just having some girl chat and talking about her baby. Nothing too interesting.”

“It seemed quite interesting from where I was standing.” I challenge as I gulp my drink. She places her glass on a table and she turns to me, smiling devilishly.

“Coriolanus, darling you sound jealous of Sinder Cobble.”

“Only jealous that you don’t laugh with me like that.” I admit to her. She leans in close as well as I. “She may make me laugh but you’re the one who makes me make those sweet noises.” She whispers against my ear, causing my cock to twitch again.

I clench my jaw and I go to reach for her throat but she was pulled away from me. I feel instant anger when I see Bugs had pulled her away for a dance.

She looked surprised in the action but she throws her head back and laughs.

No, no, no. Don’t laugh like that with another man while you’re in front of me!

You’re mine Evangeline, don’t you understand that you’re my most precious possession?

I put my glass down angrily, ready to snatch her away from him but Davina Court slinks her arms around me. “Well hello there stranger.” She says looking up at me lovingly.

“Not now Davina.” I go to move her hands off of me but she grips me tighter and pouts. “Don’t be like that, baby. Why don’t you come around and see me at the shop anymore?”

“Because I have no reason to go there.” I tell her bluntly. Her grip on me loosens. “Did I do something wrong?” I ignore her question and move away from her.

But she doesn’t let up. She grabs a hold of my jacket. “Please, don’t do this. I thought what we had was special.” I ignore her and look back at Evangeline and I see she’s getting lost in the crowd of dancing bodies.

I turn back to Davina sharply making her flinch. “Let go or I will give you a reason you’ll never want to see me walking around this district.” I tell her coldly. She releases the hold of my jacket and I take off in the direction I had seen Evangeline last. When I get close, I see she’s gone and I feel my blood boiling.

Where are you little rose? You couldn’t have gotten away that easily.

I look around and my eyes land on Bugs. He was talking to Sejanus and Clifton. I had to keep my temper down, because if I didn’t I would’ve grabbed Bugs from his seat and bashed his skull into the dance floor.

“Bugs, do you know where Evangeline wandered off to?” I ask him as I take a few calm breathes. “Careful there, Coryo. If you keep hanging around that’s girl, people are going to think you’re her guard dog.” Clifton jokes.

I give him an icy glare which makes the laugh in his throat stop. “Uh, she said she needed some air. So she might be outsi-“ I turn on my heel not caring to let Bugs finish his sentence.

Evangeline oh my sweet little rose. I’m going to teach you that if you ever laugh like that with another man and leave my sight without my permission, there will be consequences that you’ll have to face….

“I guess I have to pluck a few pedals off of my flower…”

Evangeline-

Bugs is funny, and he’s warm hearted. The way he made me feel happy and included on the dance floor gave me a bit of happiness.

He also reminds me of Jonathan. Which makes me wonder what he’s doing. Maybe he’s bickering with Nana-Bee about his eye color change. Or maybe he’s out there…looking for me?

I look up at the red moon and I feel a tear fall. Snow is coming and I can feel it in the air. I need warmth, I need my family. I need my freedom. I sniffle back a tear as I hear the back door to the hub open.

I feel a presence behind me and when I turn I see Coriolanus. He was giving off a strange chill.

Be cautious, Evangeline.

My instincts tell me.

“Why are you out here?” He asks in a husky tone. “I just needed some fresh air. You know it’s a red moon tonight. Which means it’s the start of the winter solstice.” I tell him as I turn away from him. I assume he nods because I don’t hear a response.

He seems to creep closer to me, like a snake would do to its prey. “That’s nice to know. So what did Bugs and you talk about?” I keep the annoyance out of my tone. “He just told me a silly little joke. That’s all.” I say with a shrug.

“Seemed like he had told you something quite funny. So tell me, what was the joke?” The frost coming from him gave me the chills. “Why don’t you go ask him. I’m sure he can tell you the joke better than I can.” I hiss in response.

“No, I want to you to tell the best way you can, Evangeline.” He says as he moves in front of me. I avoid his narrowed eyes and I look past him. We are like that for only a pregnant pause.

He then moves so that I’m staring into his eyes. The darkness in his pupils would make any mere mortal back down. But I am not a mere mortal and I sure as hell wasn’t going to back down. I feel a flicker in my eyes and I hate that I have to look away because he will think he’s won.

“Fine, don’t tell me. In fact don’t even utter a fucking word.” He grabs a hold of my wrist and snatches me up. “Ouch! You’re hurting me! Coriolanus! You’re hurting m-” He grabs my throat quickly and pins me up against the wall of the hub.

“You…don’t speak.” He says through clenched teeth. “I think it is safe to say that I think you are a fascinating creature. I confess that when you aren’t in my presence I get a bit…possessive. But can you blame me? I want to keep you in my sight at all times just like a beautiful garden. You haunt my thoughts like a sickness and I don’t want a cure. I want your poison to set a fire in a veins and have me wither in agony. But I want you to feel the same. I want to be the only person you look for when you awaken. I want to be the only person you dream about when you fall asleep. I want my scent to make your pretty little pussy clench. I want you to need me like your lungs need air.”

He says that as he squeezes my throat a bit tighter. “Corio-” He interrupts me with a kiss. They way his lips pressed against mine made all the air leave my body. I know I should push this lunatic off of me but as his hand releases my throat, he pinned my wrists above my head.

I feel his erection against my belly button and I can’t help but let a moan escape my lips. He sucks my lip and I feel my knees shake. When he lets go he looks down at me and I want nothing more than to please him.

I go to open my mouth but he raises a brow, letting me know that if I speak, I will get something I don’t want. So I close my lips. “I want to give you so much but you made me upset tonight. But I’ll make sure you never want to leave my sight again. Or laugh with other men.”

With a quick move, Coriolanus keeps my hands pinned above my head with one hand while he takes the other and moves it under my skirt.

When he finds my wet covered clit, I let out a gasp. I lean against the wall so that my legs were supported and didn’t give out as he lets his skillful fingers roam my pussy.

He leans down and lets his tongue lick my throat. I feel his sharp teeth bite and pull at my skin. I feel the pain but also the pleasure as he gently thrusts his fingers in and out of me. When he finds my g-spot I let my head fall back and close my eyes.

I suddenly feel a sharp yank to my locs and I groan as I feel his fingers leave me. “Don’t close your eyes. I want to see the want and hunger in them.” He says with his teeth close to my ear. When he sees I’m obedient, he continues. I feel my pussy starting to clench and I let out a breathy moan.

“You want to come don’t you? You want to spill those juices down these pretty thighs?” He asks as he goes painstakingly slow. I mouth yes and I feel my orgasm about to come but he stops. “I don’t think so.” He slides out of me and I go to speak but he pins my entire body against the wall.

“You don’t deserve to. But I’ll be merciful this one time. If you feel as if you deserve to come then show me…with this devilish mouth of yours, Evangeline.” He smirks and I hear him loosening his pants.

He lets my hands go and on instinct I drop to my knees. As he pulls his cock out I see how slick the tip is in the moonlight. I lean forward to touch him but he leans back. “No hands. I just want you to earn that orgasm with your mouth, little rose.” He says to me.

I place my hands on my lap and I open my mouth. He looks down at me as if I’m ready to worship him and he slides his thumb in my mouth. I watch him shiver as I suck.

“You’ll earn that orgasm I’m sure of it.” He pops his thumb out of my mouth and he lets the head of his cock brush against my lips, as if to say open.

I open my mouth and I lick up the dribbles of pre. I watch as his eyes roll back slightly as I slide him past my lips. “Fuck…” He moans as he places his hands on the back of my head.

As the pleasure plays across his face, I squeeze my thighs together, feeling my clit rub against my soaked panties. “Such a good mouth you have little rose. I can’t wait to see how good your entire body feels.” Coriolanus groans as he guides my head further down.

I feel a choke coming but he doesn’t stop. “No, no, no. I know you can take it. Be my good little rose and take it down your throat.” He presses my head against the wall and I feel his pelvis meet my nose. When he slides out of my mouth I take in a deep breath and I cough.

“See that wasn’t so bad. I knew you could take it. Do you want to continue?” He asks as he stroke his thumb over my bottom lip. The hunger I see in his pale blue eyes made me groan. “Yes.” I say in a hoarse whisper. He smiles which doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“That’s my girl.” He slides his cock back in my mouth and I feel my gag reflex tickle as he thrusts in and out of my lips. I know he said no hands but I press my palms against his bucking hips. Hearing him moan out in pleasure made me rock my hips faster.

God I wanted this man to make me come. I wanted him to come. I didn’t even care if we got caught. I just wanted both of our pleasure to be released.

Coriolanus moved my hands off of his hips and held them in the air as he began to fuck my face against the wall. My eyes started to roll back as I felt my orgasm building with his. “That’s it, take my cock down this pretty throat of yours. I want you to be drunk from my cock.” He moans as I feel his balls twitch against my chin.

He stills and keeps his pelvis press against my lips as I feel the ropes of come shoot down my throat. I swallow as much as I could but feel it mix with my drool as he slides his still hard cock out of my mouth.

“You are beautiful.” He says as he lifts me up off of my knees and kisses me. The way his tongue danced with mine, made me dizzy and lustful. I moved my tongue with his as I feel him lift my leg onto his hip.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you. I want to fuck you so deep, that I’ll leave an imprint.” He says as he lifts my skirt and pulls my panties to the side. “Please, please, please.” I beg him as I lift my hips and move in his direction. I feel the tip about to slide inside but a loud-

BOOM!

-Interrupts us. We hear people screaming and running out of the hub. Coriolanus quickly fixes himself as well as myself and he takes a hold of my hand.

As we run, he spots Clifton. “What’s going on?” Coriolanus asks. “Someone set off a bomb! I think it’s rebels! We need to get out of here!” Clifton yells. I notice blood coming out of his ear as he takes off. “Evangeline, go home and lock your doors. I’ll come by later.”

“But what about you?” I yell, trying to be heard over the screaming. “I’ll be okay! Just go!” He pushes me ahead and I run with the crowd. I glance back at the hub and see it was set ablaze. The fire looked chaotic and beautiful, with the colors and dancing flames.

When I look forward I had ran into something heavy and thick. “Wheresyouthinkyouregoing?” I smell rancid breathe and I almost gag.

Duke was in front of me and I see he’s swaying a bit.

As I try to back up, I get grabbed and yanked hard by the hair. “Let me go! LET ME G-” I feel a hard hit to my stomach and I throw up anything I had consumed.

“I bet you started this. But you know what, this is perfect.” He drags me off and as I try to fight him off, he tightens his hold on me.

“I saw what you did to Coriolanus. I bet you’d open your legs to anyone.” He spat at me. “I wouldn’t fuck a disgusting pig like you!”

He throws me to the ground away from the crowd and as I go to get up he sends a heavy boot to my face, which causes blood to pool in my mouth.

“See I told Coriolanus to keep a leash on you. But you know little monster like you just seem to always get loose. I should shoot him in the head for fucking a disgusting creature. And who are you calling a pig? When you’re the filthy little slut sucking off Peace Keepers. But you know what? Since I can’t have my ticket to heaven, then I’m going to get something else out of you.”

I kick hard into his crotch as he kneels near me. He falls over in pain. “Oof!”

I scramble up to run but I feel him grab my ankle and he yanks. He manages to get on top of me and pins me down. “I’m going to fuck you and then I’m going to beat you until not even the dogs will want to play with you.” He says as he uses all of his weight on me.

No, I won’t let this happen. I refuse for this to happen.

I feel him pin my legs apart and he rips my skirt down, exposing myself to him. I hear him go for his pants and I look around. I find a decent sized rock but it was just out of my reach from where I can see.

I use my quick thinking and I gather the blood in my mouth and spit directly in his eyes. When it makes contact, his flesh begins to cook. He screams bloody murder and I scramble away from him.

I grab the rock as he gets a hold of my blouse and I crack him across the face causing him to let me go.

I see a cut on his forehead which fuels the fire in me. “Shame I can’t drag this out.” I mutter as I raise the rock and hit him again. This time he falls down and I crawl on top of him.

He screams as he waves his hands wildly. I pin his arms down with my knees and I hold his mouth open.

“See you in hell.” I say as I spit more blood and drool into his mouth. The second it hits his tongue a fire ignites. His face gets licked up in flames and he screams wildly. But instead of allowing him to draw attention. I raise the rock up high and I send it down, cracking his face in.

Crack!

I see his left eye pop loose.

Crack!

His front teeth goes flying.

Crack!

His forehead caves in.

CRACK!

His body goes still.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Once I know he will no longer be a threat to me, I drop the rock and I get up. Duke’s head was now a splattered mess on the ground as well as a small inferno.

I stand back and watch as my fire slowly consumes his body. A smile spreads across my face as I watch his body char. His flesh cooks and I hope something comes to eat the rest of him. That is, if there’s anything left when my flame dies down.

“This is an interesting discovery.” I stiffen hearing a familiar voice behind me.

As I command my body to move, I turn around to see Coriolanus staring at me with no expression on his face.

Did he see what Duke was going to do to me? Or did he only see that I had set Duke’s body on fire?

I then remember my eyes and I shut them, trying to calm the fire inside of me. “What discovery Coriolanus?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed.

I feel him in front of me and when I dare to open my eyes he was just staring at me, with his hand reaching out to touch my hair. He captured my white loc in his fingers and twirls it with interest in his eyes.

“That my little rose has more than just thorns…”

Next

[readyforthegarden]

Silver Springs - Part One

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Original Female Character

Synopsis: The year was 1976, the season was summer. The days were hot and the nights were hotter. Music was the best it had ever been, especially rock music. Sam Kiszka has been riding the high of being in one of the top bands on the scene, but when his bands tour is accompanied by another up-and-coming band, with a lead singer that gets on his very last nerve, will everything come crashing down or will they end up making music that changes the world?

Warnings: Mentions of drug use, misogyny typical of the 1970s, 18+ only, Minors DNI

WC: 2712

🎶 🎶 🎶

“What is it like, being on top?” Sam smirked at the question, dragging his hand across his forehead in the hot sun as sweat beaded against his tanned skin. He held back a laugh at the obvious innuendo, leaning against the warm brick of the building.

“It’s a crazy feeling,” Sam answered the interviewer, who was holding a microphone out to him with a slightly shaking hand. “I never thought in a million years our music would reach so many people. We’re just some kids from the suburbs of Michigan, so to be at this level is insane.”

“You’re turning into hometown heroes, really.” the interviewer replied, chuckling at his moniker. “Record sales are at an all time high, you’re at the top of the charts, do you have any advice for any kids back home in their garages, trying to be the next Greta Van Fleet?”

“Yeah, don’t try to be the next Greta Van Fleet.” Sam grinned. “Be yourselves, write what speaks to you, play what sounds good to you. As long as you’re yourself you’ll go far.” They wrapped up the interview and Sam parted from the young man, starting his journey back to his bus across the parking lot. He pulled a cigarette out of the pack in the front pocket of his half buttoned shirt, slipping a lighter from his jeans pocket and lighting it.

“Hey, you’re Sam Kiszka, right?” Sam squinted in the sun, turning and seeing a young woman walking fast to catch up to his long stride.

“I am.” he replied. “If you want an autograph, I’m afraid I don’t have a pen. If you wanna shag, there’s a line forming over on the other side of the venue.”

“I don’t want either of those things, thank you though.” the girl scoffed lightly, slowing down now that she was beside him. “I’m actually a musician, a singer-songwriter, and I was wondering if you’d look over a few of my songs? I really dig the music you make, and it’d mean a lot.” Sam stopped with a sigh, turning to the girl. Her light, sandy brown hair was frizzed from the humidity, unkempt waves looking like she slept with her hair wet and the window open while tossing and turning. 

Her wide hazel eyes blinked up at him, and Sam glanced down, seeing her clutching a worn, tattered journal in her hands. She wore overalls with patches on the wide legged knees. They hung loosely on her and were faded, the t-shirt underneath short and snug to her body, making them clear signs of hand-me-downs or thrift finds.

“I guess,” Sam sighed, holding out his hand. The girl opened the book in her hands, flipping through the pages before handing it over to Sam. The page Sam looked down on was scribbled all over, words etched out, messy writing across the lines. A few spots were discolored, spots where maybe some water, possibly even tears had spilled over. His eyes scanned the lyrics, keeping a blank face as the young woman bit her lip nervously, ruffling her hair, a smattering of bracelets clattering along her wrist and forearm as she moved. 

Sam flipped through a few more pages before snapping the book shut, looking over to her. He thought carefully about what he wanted to say. The words she had written were good, and he couldn’t help the artistic jealousy that bubbled up in his chest that he never thought of stringing them together himself.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Brandy.” she responded. “Brandy Lawson.”

“Well, Brandy Lawson,” Sam held up the book in front of him. “I wouldn’t quit your day job. You’ve got some potential, but nothing big in here. No one wants to hear a woman whining about her broken heart.” he watched Brandy’s eyes dim, her cheeks turning pink as she rolled her shoulders back against the blow to her ego.

“I appreciate the honesty.” Brandy reached out, taking her book back from Sam. “Really, thank you.” Sam felt a small twist in his gut, guilt setting in at crushing the girls’ dreams. He ran a hand through his brown, shoulder length hair with a sigh.

“Listen, it’s nothing personal,” he shrugged. He wanted to continue but couldn’t find decent enough words to tell her he thought her words were shit.

“No, no it’s not.” Brandy shook her head, clutching the journal to her chest again, a new spark in her eyes. “Thank you for your opinion, Mr. Kiszka. Have a good show.” she began to move away and Sam reached out, placing a large hand on her shoulder.

“Do you want an autograph or something?” he offered, trying to take the edge off the conversation. Brandy turned, smiling at him with a shake of her head.

“No. But you’ll be wanting mine one day.” she replied, so self-assured Sam was taken aback by the confidence. “See you around, Kiszka.”

Sam watched her walk away across the venue parking lot, the heels of her boots thunking against the pavement. She propelled herself with enough force the wind blew her hair back around her as she went. Something in him felt an inkling of admiration and a pang of annoyance at her sudden conviction.

“Hey, you coming to sound check?” Sam looked to his left, seeing his brother Jake ushering flagging him down. He and the rest of the band were heading inside the venue now. Sam nodded, jogging over to him. “What kept you so long? The magazine guy left a while ago.”

“Just some fan, wanted me to give advice on their songwriting.” Sam replied, waving his hand in front of him like Brandy had been an annoying fly buzzing around his head for the few minutes they interacted.

“Were they any good?” Jake asked curiously. Sam huffed out a laugh, holding open the stage door as his brother shuffled in.

“Just some school-kid drivel.” Sam shrugged.

“Aw, you mean like what you used to write?” Josh, Sam’s eldest brother wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulder, using his knuckles to give him a playful noogie to the side of his head. 

“Knock it off,” Sam pushed Josh off of him gently. 

“We all have to start somewhere, Sammy.” Josh reminded him. 

“Well, she seems to think I’ll be asking for her autograph one day,” Sam rolled his eyes. “So she must think she’s ahead of the game.” He followed his brothers onto the stage, taking place at his microphone as a roadie handed him his guitar.

“Who knows, maybe we’ll even be opening for her.” Jake joked into his mic, making the other men laugh. That was the last they had spoken of it, and the last Sam thought of Brandy Lawson for a very long while.

Until she stormed back into his life, a new name, a new band, and fiery attitude. 

🎶 🎶 🎶

“Los Angeles are you ready for a night of love and rock and roll?!” the crowd in the Troubadour roared. “My name is Harlow, and with me are the Blue Jean Babies. And we’re here tonight to make sweet love to you through music and leave you wanting more.” a few wolf whistles echoed through the room as Harlow gripped her microphone stand, bringing her body towards it. The bell sleeves of her dress fell back towards her elbows and she shook her shaggy bangs out of her face, licking her lips before beginning to sing.

“It’s a little crowded tonight.” Jake groaned, worming his way through the crowd to the bar, nodding at a few people who recognized him.

“You were the one who wanted to come.” Sam laughed back, finally resting against the sticky bar as his brother ordered them beers.

“Yeah, well I heard this band is really something.” Jake turned, handing a tepid, sweating amber bottle to his younger brother. “They’ve been blowing up the charts, and the label is thinking of having them on tour with us.”

“You mean the tour we’re about to go on in a little less than a month?” Sam was wide-eyed. “Who dropped out?”

“I guess one of the openers, one of their wives just had a baby and she’s threatening divorce if he doesn’t stay home with them since he was gone most of the pregnancy.” Jake shrugged. “It’s bullshit, but if you love the woman you do what you have to.”

“Happy wife, happy life and all that, yeah?” Sam chuckled as he took a sip of his own beer. He could never imagine himself kowtowing to anyone like that. No one was going to keep him from being on the road and living out his dream. If he was going to be with someone, they had to understand that music was the most important thing to him.

“More like he’ll have to pay out the ass in spousal and child support.” Jake rolled his eyes. Sam laughed loudly before having a few dirty looks thrown his way for interrupting the show. He smiled sheepishly and put a finger to his lips, promising to keep quiet with a wink. He turned his attention to the stage, allowing himself to focus on the music. 

The woman singing was vaguely familiar, he’d probably seen her out and about in the LA scene. It was a small circle, no matter how many new faces moved to the city of Angels, so he was sure he’d met her at some party somewhere. Maybe they’d shared a joint or a bump. Maybe a beer. 

“She’s pretty good, huh?” Jake leaned over to Sam, yelling over the music. 

“Yeah, she’s all right.” Sam sniffed. He watched the singer on stage as she danced around, singing and banging a tambourine against the heel of her hand. Her hair flew around her wildly as she spun, and Sam couldn’t help to smirk at her free movements, they reminded him of his eldest brother in a way, and how he would move on stage during Jake’s guitar solos. “I think they’d fit in nicely as openers.”

“Yeah?” Jake quirked an eyebrow over at Sam, watching his eyes carefully. The singer was now leaning down, smiling as she interacted with concert-goers. She had a wrist laden with bangles and beaded bracelets, and Jake caught the small smirk on Sam’s face as he watched the singer slip a few off and put them over the hand of a fan who was reaching out before standing back up and continuing the show. When the band left the stage, Jake patted Sam on the shoulder, and they moved to go backstage.

As they approached the green room, they heard loud laughter, the clinking of bottles and energetic talking between bandmates, and Sam felt the energy inside him prick up. There was something so contagious about a post-show high, and he could tell Jake was feeling it too as they rounded the corner into the room. It took a few minutes of the chaos to settle down as they joined the party, and someone stopped to notice them.

“Woah,” a young man stopped when he saw Jake and Sam, his lips still glistening from the pull from the bottle of Jack Daniels he held in his hand. His mustache was barely grown in enough to collect any droplets and he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as he stared in awe. “You’re…you’re Jake and Sam Kiskza.”

“Yeah, we are.” Jake chuckled, reaching a hand out. The young man switched the booze to his other hand and shook Jake’s outstretched hand, before shaking Sam’s as well. “We came out to see the show, you guys are good.”

“No shit!” the man grinned. “I’m Billy, I’m the guitarist. It’s an honor to meet you guys, I’ve looked up to your guitar playing since I heard your first record.”

“Appreciate that, man.” Jake grinned. “Are the rest of your bandmates here?”

“Yeah!” Billy turned, putting his hand on another man’s shoulder and getting his attention, whispering to him before gathering a few others around. “Where’s Harlow?”

“I’m right here.” they turned around again, and parted, making room for the leading lady of the night to join. It took him a few moments, but up close, all it took was a few moments, and the glimmer of gold in those hazel eyes for him to fully recognize her. His memory pulled up the scene in a parking lot where he’d essentially told her she was a talentless hack. “Hello boys.”

“Hi, I’m Jake,” Jake reached out his hand to her with a smile. She took it gently, squeezing his fingertips and holding his hand in hers for a few moments, telling him how nice it was to meet him before letting go. She turned to Sam, a smirk tugging at the corner of her smile. 

“And, you are?” Sam felt his cheeks prickle with heat flushed with embarrassment that she would pretend she had no clue who he was in front of everyone, in front of his own brother. All the while her eyes glimmered with recognition. He swallowed down his pride and put on a smile, taking her hand and instead of letting her feel like she had control like she did with Jake’s, as she squeezed his fingertips he brought the back of her hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to it as he kept eye contact, smiling as he lowered her hand. Her eyes narrowed slightly and he felt his chest swell at her reaction.

“Samuel.” he replied. “But you can call me Sam.” he tossed in a wink for good effort, her cheeks turning pink from it.

“Well, to what do we owe the honor of a visit from you both?” Harlow tore her eyes from Sam, glancing back to Jake. 

“We just wanted to come check out the potential new openers for our next tour.” Jake grinned. It took a moment for what he said to sink in, and the band began jumping around excited.

“What, for real?!” Billy exclaimed, and Jake nodded. 

“We don’t know for sure, but they told us you guys were in the running, and we thought it’d be a good idea to check you guys out when we saw you were playing tonight.” Sam offered. 

“It was a really good show,” Jake chimed in, smiling. “Reminded me a bit of us when we were first getting crowd attention, feeding off of it. I’m definitely putting my name behind you guys for our openers.”

“And what about you, Sam?” Harlow’s gaze was back to him, the question leaving her lips and cutting through to him sharply. “Did you like the show?”

“It was very entertaining.” Sam replied coolly to her challenge. “You guys are up on my list, for sure.” Harlow kept her eyes on him as the rest of the Blue Jean Babies celebrated behind her. After a few moments more, they were called to their bus to start the next leg of their journey to the next city, and had to begin packing up. 

“It was great to meet you all, hopefully we’ll see you soon.” Jake told them all as he and Sam headed for the door.

“Hopefully very soon.” Harlow agreed, shooting him a charming smile. “Have a good night Jake. You too, Sam.”

“Goodnight, Harlow.” Sam replied, meeting her eyes one more time before wishing everyone else a goodnight too. 

“I really liked them.” Jake turned to Sam as they walked out of the building. Most of the concert-goers had left, only a few stragglers smoking or drinking at their cars. “They seem really cool and they genuinely are excited about music.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.” Jake smirked at Sam’s blaise response. 

“You seemed to have a connection with that Harlow chick.” Jake nudged his little brother in the ribs with his own elbow. “Are we going to have to worry about some hanky-panky if we bring them on tour?”

“Not at all,” Sam rolled his eyes. “If anything, she has an attitude that’s annoying to me.”

“Well, if they come on tour with us, maybe it’ll humble her a little bit.” Jake shrugged, getting into his car. Sam climbed into the passenger seat, thinking of all the ways he could humble Brandy “Harlow” Lawson.

Taglist: @joshsindigostreak @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @sacredthefran @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @kkdarling @demonrat444 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @lightmylove-gvf @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @jankandjonch @gvfpal @allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet @gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @starcatcherkiszka @indigofallingsky

[writersmilex]

My Only Friend

Anonymous asked:  hi smilex nice to see you again, can i ask a scenario where hank and reader knew each other before hank became well... a murderer? basically reader was hank's only friend and they were very close, over time hank begins to have a crush on reader but he couldn't confess until the fateful day came with the boombox accident and from there they parted ways but after years they meet again

___ Nice to See you too... ‘I don’t know who you are’ Here is the request, Tumblr is always screwing me over one way or other and now I can’t respond to my asks.  Here it is!

___

Hank Wimbleton X Fem | Reader

Summary: Just before the crimson skies, Hank had a friend. You were the only friend he had at the time. _____________________________________

(Art Belongs to Rightful Owner)

"It sounds like fun, you should try it." Your eyes gleam with intrigue as you point at the flyer for a volleyball tournament. Hank crosses his arms and huffs in annoyance. "I don't want to." He growls, by this time Hank's crappy moods hardly threaten you. "You want more friends, right?" You reason with the stoic man beside you. He doesn't answer and looks away from you. Yeah... He does want more friends, but he just doesn't know how. He has an intimidating stature, and stoic expression acts rather aggressively at times and making friends difficult for someone like him.

"Tell you what, we go together." You say, taking a pen from a string to write your name neatly on the flyer. "(Y/n)..." Hank tries to reason, but he knows there is no point in reasoning with you. "Fine..." He agrees and takes the pen from you to write down his own name, right under yours. You look at Hank and beam at him, the brightest gaze he has ever seen, it could blind him if your face produced light like that. "Awesome!" You laugh with glee, Hank just huffs in annoyance once again. "Whatever..." He grumbles. He feels you tug on his arm. "I'm thirsty, come on let's get a drink." You're not strong enough to pull Hank out of balance, but that will change soon as you have been working out lately. Hank follows along with everything you want to do. He has nothing better to do anyway. And you're always so hyper and like to do things that end up being very fun for him always. Even though he will never admit it out loud, he doesn't have to because you always seem to be ideally in tune with his mood every time. ~~~~ The volleyball tournament was indeed fun, doesn't matter if you were good at it or not. You personally thought you did well. You noticed Hank acting a little looser after the games, he had fun as well. If you squint you can see him smiling slightly. "See? What did I tell you?" You ask playfully, patting your friend on his arm. Hank lets out a low chuckle, "It was alright..." He replies that means he had fun. His response only makes you gleam brighter. You cheer with a little jump, "See? I knew it would be fun!" You skip alongside your stoic friend. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets, as he slanders along with whatever you want to do. You're the best at finding fun things to do in his opinion. ~~~~ Hank started to feel strange around you for reasons that are still unclear to him. Seeing you happy made him happy, he did everything just to please you, he'd even do murder for you if you asked. Anything... Anything to make you happy. That smile of yours makes his day brighter. As far as he knows his life is very mediocre, and you make it better. He wants to see you every day to bring colour to his grey world. There is a place, Hank's favourite place in the park where he can find some peace. By the tree, it is a very serene place for him, ever since he was little he went there to be alone, as none of the other kids wanted to play with him back then. He didn't have friends back then, but now he has! He has you! His best friend and his only friend. He almost feels protective of you, and you don't have any enemies whatsoever! Perhaps some people find your bright and bubbly nature annoying, but that's normal he assumes. You can't get everyone on earth to like and respect you, no matter what you do. But he likes you but isn't really sure how he could show you that. So, he's going to show you his favourite place. "Are we there yet?" You ask for the fifth time. "We're really almost there," Hank repeats for the fifth time. You don't reply this time, merely holding your own hands behind your back as you trail behind Hank. You're usually the one with the plans for fun activities, and how he's the one with an idea and you don't want to ruin this for him. So you'll go with everything he wants now, just to make your friend happy. "This is a really nice place though, very tranquil." Your comment on the grassy fields of the park, There are not as many trees around as he remembered from when he was little, but his favourite tree is still the in the same place as it should be. "The quietness helps me think," Hank explains as he comes to a stop by the tree. "I can imagine that," you reply and keep looking around the fields. The park is rather crowded today, many people around and you saw one guy in the distance walking around with a boombox. "I like to just stand here and enjoy the silence... If I can..." Hank explains as he takes a stance, crossing his arms. He gives the random guy with the boombox a side glare.  Hank never like that genre of music anyway, not to mention that it's rather distressing, such loud music in a place that's supposed to be peaceful. "I'm really thirsty, I'm getting a drink by the bakery. Do you want anything?" You ask your friend as you point in the general direction to the bakery that is right outside of the park's fields. "Just a soda." Hank requests with a dismissive wave of the hand. You nod and smile at your friend and skip off to get drinks. ~~~~ Hank waits for you to return, feeling a little tense at the loud music getting closer to him. The boombox guy is really getting on his nerves by now. Destroying his zen moment with that obnoxious music. It's clear that the boombox guy is not stopping on his own, so Hank has to do something about it himself. He walks around the tree and approaches the guy, "Hey, could you turn it down?" He asks as politely as he could. But instead is met with a rough push that causes him to stumble and lose his balance, falling on the grass. "This is a public place, I can do what I want!" The guy says matter-of-factly. Now Hank is angered enough to get physical with this guy, and he does. It was madness that day... ~~~~ Hank hasn't seen you since that fateful day with the boombox, it feels like he lost a piece of himself, which he might as well has. Nothing has been the same since that day... a day he curses still. The crimson sky doesn't change how he is feeling, as he looks over a war-torn city with very little left from the rooftop of the building where he and his comrades have taken shelter, a light breeze brushes by. But a part of him also wishes he never sees you again, you might think he's a monster. And he would agree with you if you did think that. His only friend that has been missing for what feels like years. He has kept you a secret from his comrades in the force, even Doc is not aware of your existence. Your memory is only his to cherish closely to what the last pinch of innocence remains in the endless void that he calls a heart. He still misses you so dearly, even when he can hardly remember your face. He is really conflicted about what he is feeling: He wants you back, but he doesn't. If he could meet you now, everything would change again. What if you weren't even alive? That thought saddens him. If you were out there somewhere, he hopes that you can survive. And meet him again one day. _____________________________________

There, I hope this is something that you want. It's very light-hearted, but it feels kind of bland, to be honest.

Anyway, there is nothing else much I think I could add to this.

Thanks for reading.❤️

- Smilex🙂