#the deep throat choir

[telomirage]

tonight's mental mashup is jack de quidt "TANAGER. PERFECT. TOUCHPAPER" (despite me being 27 episodes into sangfielle) and taemin "black rose (feat. kid milli)

[mitjalovse]

The modern electronica comes in all shapes and sizes as we see, though a good question in here would be – which musicians could be called the major influences? I would claim one of those might be Simian Mobile Disco. Mind you, these two aren't the originators of the modern electronica, since the latter had a variety of different predecessors, yet their outfit did point towards the developments of the style during the noughts already. Yes, they anticipated the brand together with some other musicians we probably mentioned in some other discussions. Thus, their latest works feel like a validation of their path thanks to their scene becoming close to the way the charted. Still, one does ask oneself more – did they plan this?

[thewaysoundtravels]

(Simian Mobile Disco - Hey Sister)

It kind of works much better than it should, somehow it the track and the visuals fit well together.

See also the video for the track Defender

Full album - https://simianmobiledisco.bandcamp.com/album/murmurations

[sunnami]

the marauders as. . . whatever these love languages are (i).

a/n: i got addicted to writing drabbles. . .

“i’m touch-starved.”

there’s not a day where 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 isn’t holding onto you like a lifeline—a tether to this world when he feels like he’s about to float away. on mornings where he wakes up back in his childhood bedroom, portraits of jaundiced ancestors hurling insults at him as though he hasn’t already heard it all from his benevolent mother—he closes his eyes, and when he opens them, there you are. gone are the colorless walls of his early years, instead he’s drowning in the shades of you.

you’re wearing nothing but his shirt and the bursting hues of his devotion. he’s never been fluent in ‘i love you’ but for you, he wants to learn every language there is, so as long as you know that he is yours. yours to command, yours to throw away one day, yours to love—his soul and heart are utterly and irrevocably yours.

he pulls you closer to him because sirius black is a mad man, selfishly burrowing in your warmth like he’s been trudging through an eternal winter, desperate for light and the relief of your lips. sirius wraps his arms around your waist, as if to protect you from the sunlight—because you are his and not even the threat of tomorrow can take you away. he wants to stay close with you like this forever. until neither knows where they begin or end. he buries his nose in the crook of your neck—wondering if you’ll be cross if he pilfers a taste of your skin. the sound of your heartbeat is more beautiful than any orchestra symphony—he thinks your voice is what heaven’s choir is made of.

sirius splays his fingers on your bare stomach, his loose shirt riding up your waist. he aches, and oh, how he burns for you. he’s never been one for tears, but he finds that the reprieve of your touch can bring a wayward man to his knees. you are, in every essence, the answer to his prayers and the pardoning of his sins. he chases you like a drunkard drawn to firewhiskey—he’s afraid that you’ve gone and gotten him addicted to you.

to your fingers in his hair—tugging and pulling—then, to his tongue licking a trail against the column of your throat, your breath hot on his cheek, your nails digging in deep into his back, and the nights where love is spoken through fervent whimpers and whispers of adoration.

sirius knows it’ll be centuries until he becomes a man worthy of your love—but for now, he hopes you’ll let his arms protect you from harm, and his hands find solace in yours.

after all, you are the better parts of his soul.

a/n: i’m not sure if i hit the mark on touch-starved as a language BUT WE MOVE. remus next!

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I can imagine a tired dad Husk with his three little kits clinging onto him. Like their claws are embedded in his fur and they’re looking at him with them big ol eyes. Their claws hurt but goddamnit he’ll tolerate it just to make them happy

A/n: HELP! THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE.

Was he tired? Yes, of course he was fucking tired. He was exhausted. If his kits weren't clinging to you then they were clinging to him.

He wasn't mad at that fact of course, how could he ever be mad at his adorable little kids. He just wished that it didn't hurt so much.

His two son's were clinging desperately to his back as they let out tiny little chirps. One, he didn't know which was starting to climb up his back. One tiny little talon sinking into his wing. Husk tensing as a deep hiss escaped his throat.

"Careful..." trying not to scold his son, his paw came up to his chest to cradle his daughter. Her big eyes looking up at him. Despite how much it hurt he couldn't complain. Not when he had the love of his kits.

Besides, you always found away to take care of him, to make him feel good.

"Come on, let's go see your ma! Your little eye's isn't gonna affect me. You three need to sleep."

A choir of yips echoed around him, their tiny little claws sinking deeper into him as they buried themselves into his fur.

"Ya, ya, I hear ya."

Hearing a small giggle, he craned his neck nearly groaning deeply as he spotted you. "What are you giggling about."

Humming, you shrugged your shoulders stepping close to Husk. "Just the cutest thing in hell."

Rolling his eyes, Husk adverted your gaze as he kept a grin on his face. "Hmp...the only cute things are you and the kits."

"Well that we can agree on."

[kraftwerk113]

Life´s too short for weird music – Tagesempfehlung 13.09.2022

Hayden Thorpe / Golden ratio (Deep throat choir Remix)

Hayden Thorpe hat sein 2021er Album Moondust for my memory aktuell extrem aufgeblasen und als 20 Track umfassende Every Piece of Dust Editionnochmals veröffentlicht. Wäre eigentlich gar nicht so sehr eine Erwähnung wert, würde sich unter dem Bonusmaterial nicht eine wahnsinnig intensive und komplett veränderte Überarbeitung des Songs Golden ratio befinden. Und das liegt insbesondere an dem fabulösen Deep throat choir, die mit Golden ratio das vermutlich gesangliche Highligt des Jahres 2022 geschaffen haben

[yanderestarangel]

𖤐 𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 - 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄!𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐊𝐔𝐄𝐈 + 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𖤐 TW: afab anatomy, dark!bi han, dark!tomas, sub!reader, headcanons, hard smut, bloodkink, master x sub, dark themes, v!sex, blowjob, praise, degradation, sex with blood, objectification, fuck aggressive, porn plot, anal sex, size kink, hard!dom bi han, hard!dom tomas vrbada, dumbification, bdsm, hunter!play.

𖤐 𝐁𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐒𝐔𝐁 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎

He was already a hard!dom before becoming a vampire, after that, things unfortunately escalated to levels never seen before. Bi Han felt like a god, something above everyone and especially a fragile creature like you - He will bite you, growl in sex, break you completely, until you are a mess full of his bites, bruises made by his hands even more flowers that he placed on your hips, like purple and red petals, a sign of who would always be in charge there.

The grand master will use his sharp fangs to draw your blood, while he fucks you senseless, his cock pulses even more in your spongy walls, his balls were cold and extremely heavy, with each thrust you could feel him leaving the flesh of your ass raw - and he loved every damn second of it -

Bi Han will keep you locked in his big castle now, with no freedom to leave, you are just his pretty slut now. He will stick his dick in you so many times during the day that he will make you cry and beg for more, every time he interrupts another orgasm of yours, degrading you as he puts his dick back in your overstimulated and aching pussy, the vampire loves it like your voice gets teary and loud with each point of pleasure he continues to hit.

"-Stop crying slut, just spread your legs and let me in again." Bi Han growled angrily, as he spread your thighs again, your wet hole was reddened from the hours he fucked you repeatedly and tirelessly, and he wasn't going to satisfy himself until he filled you completely, until you couldn't even remember your own name but only let his name come out between your moans, like a damned prayer or a lustful choir.

He's bigger than you, stronger, he could break you at any moment if you're not careful... And that's fucking exciting for him, the mere thought of being able to lift you through every corner of the dark stone rooms just with one of his arms, holding you like a rag doll and forcing you to look deep into his red eyes, while he tirelessly pounds your pussy, seeing the bulge that his shaft makes with each brutal entry, it's too much for him to handle, he can cum just by imagining the scene.

As a vampire, he is even more arrogant, a complete idiot, especially if it is in the context of: you are his and no one else's.

You are not allowed to even look at a lin kuei ninja or be the least bit friendly, if you do something that displeases Bi Han, he will fuck you right after a hunt, he reeked of blood, his pale skin was sweaty and dirty while his hair reflected in the light of the full moon. You would be on your knees in front of him - if he wants - for hours, he will force your throat to the limit, choking you, cruelly and deliciously impaling his cock down your throat while growling and laughing at seeing you in such a submissive and pathetic situation, worshiping his cock as if it were the only thing you knew how to do - and well, it was true - he will be there, throwing dirty words at you, mocking how you are only good for that, to satisfy him. "-I'm going to fuck you hard, make my dick slide into that pretty little pussy."

Bi Han will fuck you to the point of wanting to breed your little pussy, every day you will have at least a little of his thick seed painting your core, leaving you breathless as he watches you roll your eyes in pleasure, he will be rude, taking the his dick in a loud, erotic pop and fucking your breasts hard. "-You fucking slut, looking at this is making my dick harder" He laughed as he let out hoarse sounds, fucking your soft skin even more, the friction of your breasts was making him see the wet and slippery shaft disappear between your soft flesh. "-When I'm done here, I'm going to breed you again, until you're completely filled with my cum... like the pathetic, beautiful slut you are."

𖤐 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀 | 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 

When you saw Tomas arrive that night he wasn't the same man you were dating, but a darker version. Some kind of black liquid fell from his eyes, like dense tears. The blood symbol now marked your boyfriend's pale forehead, his lips were now a darker shade - lifeless - and sharp fangs made up his teeth. However, even with the dark change, there was still some remnant of what once was your beloved.

He won't be so submissive in bed anymore, he'll hold you down and pin you to the mattress, using one of his hands to hold onto your wrists while he thrusts your holes towards his hungry gauze - his dick will be willing, taking turns between hitting your pussy and your ass, both holes - now - are being used by the vampire, you can feel the weight of his cold skin, the blood of some victim he had to make on the way home, mixing with your fluids, dripping onto the sheets that were once white."-F-Fuuck Y-Yess- you have such tight holes my love, fuck I'm going to fuck you so hard-" Vrbada moaned hoarse and loud against your back. He will cum in both of your holes, while biting deeply into your skin, the pain, pleasure and blur of the world because of the orgasms and the overstimulation he does in your pussy, his fingers rub quickly and rigidly, making you scream into the night cold.

Tomas finds you so attractive, marked by him, with deep and painful marks on your body, red and pulsing from the brutality of his bites - on your ass, thighs, back, neck and belly - He will love biting your neck, while you ride him with force, as if your life depended on it, as Vrbada cums inside you again and again, you can't even count the jets of cum that come out of his shaft, as he lifts you with his strong arms, watching your cunt drip with cum from him. "-Holy shit look at this... You are really my little pearl, my dear." Tomas will fuck you in front of all the mirrors, loving seeing the scene of his hands covered in blood staining your clean skin, your body is perfect for him, he still loves you, but he will want to destroy you, leave you a stupid mess and trembles and he knows exactly how to do it.

Tomas will hunt you through the forests, he can smell your wet pussy for him from miles away, while he quickly managed to get to where you were, tearing your clothes and fucking you on the rough and hard ground, he will fuck your pussy several times and several times, the head of his dick will hit your uterus again and again, while he held your head against the ground, subduing your mortal and fragile body, you would curl your toes so hard with each of his thrusts, taking you to the limit, that I could swear I could break them. "-That's it! Keep it up, keep sucking my dick back into that slutty pussy Mmm- You're really my breed slut, aren't you? "

©𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 2023

[angryschnauzer]

Just a brief PSA from your friendly neighbourbood gen X;

Madonna's 'Like A Prayer' is not about praying, its about being deep throated during a blowjob whilst you're on your knees.

Just saying, especially for all those Gen Z/Gen Alpha choirs that are now singing it as a eclesiastical or hymnal song.

[livinginshambles]

If I could take it all back | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: James' time to pine over you. After James rejected your feelings, and you promised to get over him during the summer break, he finds himself in the same position of unrequited love and wishes he could take his words back.

Can be read as a standalone but part two of a multi-fic

Masterlist Part one

Notes: Not proofread, probably spelling mistakes. Its a happy ending, what a surprise (but I did promise to lovely anon that next time, I'll make it tough on James)

_________________________

What would your reaction be if he told you that he may fancy you. You probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he figured. And it’s not as if he actually fancied you, right? His mind was probably just confused because he, for the first time ever, wasn’t so preoccupied with Lily, and could instead acknowledge other girls too.

James plopped down on his bed in exhaustion after their first day back at Hogwarts and his mind wandered off to you.

“Bloody hell, is it me, or was that ceremony more tedious than ever before?” Sirius complained after he too dropped down on his bed across the room.

“Just gets longer each year,” Remus groaned in dismay, stuffing his face in his pillow with a deep sigh.

“And that choir,” Peter chimed in. He didn’t even have to finish his sentence, the rest of the marauders dramatically joining in on complaining.

“And ignoring the toads, there was a bloke who kept making eyes at our Y/N,” Sirius huffed. James’ relaxed posture turned rigid, and he rolled over, so his eyes could snap towards Sirius. “What!? Who?”

“Calm down, Prongs,’ Remus was quick to shush him. “Sirius is exaggerating as usual.” A pillow was thrown his way. “Also, it wasn’t inappropriately making eyes at her or anything. He just smiled at her, that’s all.” Remus ducked the pillow.

“Yeah, and it was completely mutual, so it’s alright,” Peter decided to add his own observation of the incident in attempt to reassure James. His words seemed to have the opposite effect, although James tried to hide the way his heart plummeted. Mutual?

“True, she even blushed a little,” Remus seemed to recall. “You reckon she fancies him?” He wondered out loud and James huffed in annoyance. “That’s ridiculous, Y/N doesn’t fancy him,” he curtly replied. Peter shook his head. “But didn’t she say that she fancied someone last year?”

“Well if she fancied anyone, it wouldn’t be that stupid git,” James stubbornly said. Sirius squinted his eyes at James before a shit eating grin appeared on his face. “Prongs…” he slowly began. “Do you fancy our Y/N?” Remus and Peter’s jaws fell slack, sitting up to stare at James.

James froze and his mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words to deny Sirius’ accusation. “No, I don’t,” he defended himself. “I just know Y/N and I’m telling you, that guy is not her type,” he scoffed.

“Well to be fair, we don’t actually know her type, she hasn’t dated anyone before and refused to tell us about her crush.” Sirius poked. “Well, I do,” James snapped. There was a long awkward silence while the marauders raised their eyebrows at his tone, and then James cleared his throat. “I just mean that I’ve known her longest, so obviously I know her type,” he tried to explain.

“Right.” Sirius slowly drew out. Remus and Peter nodded their heads but not at all looking convinced. James dropped back down on his bed and let his mind wander off to you again. Oh, who was he lying to, of course he fancied you.

“So, lovely Y/N, what’s your type in regard to guys,” Sirius curiously asked you. James shot him an angry look that you couldn’t see as you were huddled against him, your back to his chest so that you two could fit on the armchair together.

“What, like personality or looks?” You tilted your head in question.

“Uh, both?” Sirius asked.

You hummed in thought. “Well, kind of like Prongs, I guess,” you shamelessly admitted, and James almost choked on his own saliva. “Though, look-wise, you’re pretty easy on the eyes too, Pads.” You winked jokingly at Sirius, and he blew you a kiss while laughing out loud before getting back on the matter at hand. “So, James here is your type?” He almost disbelievingly repeated.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

James scanned Sirius’ face and could see the gears turning in his friend’s head. Merlin, he’d have to let Sirius know that he didn’t have to bother playing matchmaker, he’d destroyed any chances of you two ever becoming more by himself, two months ago.

His arms tightened around you unconsciously. It didn’t matter as long as he could keep you close like this. He’d take whatever you’d give him, he decided. He was happy enough with your friendship.

“And not that Hufflepuff guy from the choir yesterday?” Sirius pressed on.  

“Huh? Oh!” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You mean Klaus?” You bashfully smiled at your friends. “He actually asked me out on a date, encouraged by his brothers and sisters and all,” you admitted. “I guess he’s cute, but I told him I’d rather get to know him as a friend first, before going out,” you said. “I mean, I’ve never even spoken to him, but I’m not opposed to it.”

James couldn’t help but feel jealous at your words, his stomach turning at the thought of you getting to know some guy and then going on a date with him.

“I mean, he’s not really like James, is he?” Peter asked. James held his breath and waited for your reaction.

“Well, maybe it’s better if he’s not like James at all. It’d probably feel weird to date someone who is exactly like your best friend.”

James frowned. “I disagree,” he spoke up. You turned in his lap to look at him. “I mean, isn’t a partner supposed to be your best friend or something.” James motioned around with one of his arms. You laughed at his statement. “Yeah, your partner should be someone that you consider your best friend, but not necessarily a copy of ‘your existing best friend’,” you remarked. “Maybe Klaus will be another best friend.”

“You can only have one best friend,” James grumbled pettily. “Best is a superlative, there’s only one and that’s supposed to be me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and his eyes couldn’t help but flicker towards your lips. James looked away, flustered at your proximity. “I can have more best friends. Peter, Remus and Sirius are my best friends too.”

“But they’re an exception,” James whined. You swatted him. “So, make an exception for whoever I want to be best friends with. I have good character judgement.” James sighed. “Of course,” he muttered in surrender. You beamed up at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up.

James felt his heart flutter and frowned at the loss of contact. “I’m going to study with Lily,” you said and bent down to give Peter and Remus a kiss on the cheek as well.

You stopped at Sirius and gave him a reprimanding look. “No funny business Padfoot,” you warned him, and he chuckled at the memory of when he had turned his head last minute as a joke, resulting in an ‘almost kiss', because you had quickly pulled back, right on time and tripped. In attempt to hold onto Sirius, you had grabbed his shirt and accidentally ripped it on your way down. When Professor McGonagall had found you on the floor in front of Sirius who was shirtless, you’d both gotten detention. In separate classrooms.

Sirius held his hands up in mock surrender and you gave him a kiss on the cheek too. Then you turned around and left the common room.

“What in Godric’s name was that, Prongs?” Sirius immediately commented as soon as the door closed.

“Pads, no.” James immediately cut him off before he really started to get any brilliant ideas.

“She said you’re her type!” Sirius exclaimed, his arms flailing around enthusiastically.

“Padfoot, seriously-,”

Remus and Peter snickered. Sirius shot them an unamused look.

“Prongs, are you stupid? You’re her type! You fancy her, and she considers you as her type of people she’d date?” Sirius couldn’t phantom why James wasn’t as thrilled about this as he was. Unless-

It seemed that Remus had caught on to it too. “She already confessed her feelings to you, didn’t she?” He carefully asked. James didn’t respond right away.

“She fancied Prongs!?” Sirius gaped in utter shock at James at the revelation, an incredulous look on his face. He turned towards James. “What happened? Oh, Merlin, did you reject her?”

“All that matters is that she doesn’t fancy me anymore, alright?” James ended up saying.

“Merlin, what did you tell her?” Peter asked, eyes wide at James’ reluctance to explain what happened.

“Nothing! I just-, I knew she fancied me, but I thought that Lily was it for me” James defended himself.

“After she found out on the train that Lily agreed to meeting up for a date during the summer vacation before I could tell her myself, she confessed her feelings and I told her that we would always be best friends, but never anything more,” James confessed with a sigh, and he looked down at his hands in his lap.

“She said she understood and that she’d get over her feelings so we could go back to being best friends this year, without having it be awkward.” James trailed off. “And she did, so here we are,” he sighed.

“Well maybe she’s just pretending to be over you,” Peter offered.

“We all know that Y/N can’t lie for shit,” Remus pointed out.

James groaned.

“Wait, when did you even have time to realize that you fancy our Y/N between your ‘sort-of-but-not-really-because-you-two-never-actually-dated’ breakup and today?” Sirius intercepted the conversation again.

Before James could answer, Frank entered the room. “Guys, I’ve got a date,” he breathed out, face still red from running up the stairs.

“Hey, congrats mate! You finally mustered up the courage ‘ey,” James grinned broadly at him.

Frank scratched the back of his head. “Well, Alice did, I guess,” he answered almost embarrassedly, if not for the proud grin he was wearing. Sirius whistled at that, and Frank beamed even more. “Yeah, she’s amazing.”

James smile never faltered, but when he looked at Frank’s gleeful face, his mind wandered off once again and he imagined that if you were to ask him out, he would most certainly have the same reaction.

Blimey, he would never be that happy with just your friendship, would he? He’d have to tell you eventually, he supposed.

But of course, two months would pass by, and he chickened out time and time again, which all led to his current situation. He was sitting at a table in the corner of the establishment, attention captivated by your cheery laughter while tou were on your date with the Hufflepuff boy who was embarrassedly looking away while you patted his arm in reassurance.

“Don’t worry, I fully agree with you. Dave really is sexy,” you winked at him. Klaus relaxed at your words and smiled along, both of you glancing at the waiter who walked away from your table after taking your order.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Remus muttered quietly to his friends, in particular to Sirius, who was currently filling a cup of butterbeer with a laxative potion, reserved for your date. Seeing that Sirius wasn’t going to give up, he nudged James under the table.

“Prongs, this is wrong, and you know it,” he hissed. James looked conflicted. His eyes darted between your smiling form, the hand on you arm and the cup of butterbeer.

Jealousy flared up when he saw Klaus lift your hand and kiss the back of it in a dramatic way, and he pushed any feelings of guilt to the back of his mind.

“Well, my old man is already disappointed in me anyway,” Klaus concluded and shot a wink at Dave who came with your drinks. “Danke,” he nodded appreciatively before gawking at your pink drink. “Is that the dragon fruit drink?” He asked. You nodded. “Want to try it?”

“Oh Merlin, this is amazing!” Klaus moaned and you laughed while shushing him, getting strange looks from the people around you. “If you promise to stop moaning like that, you can have it all,” you said, shaking your head amusedly. “Oh, I couldn’t,” Klaus said, but eyed the drink with big eyes in interest.

“You already drank half of it anyway, doofus,” you laughed, and you reached for his still untouched butterbeer.

James’ blood ran cold. “Fuck,” he cursed and before he could help it, he had surged forward and slapped the drink out of your hands, accidentally spilling the contents all over your date.

“Prongs? What the hell?” You exclaimed in surprise. You immediately cast a cleaning spell on Klaus, apologized to him, and turned to face James with a glare on your face.

“I just-,” James wasn’t sure what he should say.

“You just?” You asked him, annoyed.

James didn’t respond anymore and instead just turned on his heels and fled towards Hogwarts, leaving you flabbergasted. You apologized to Klaus again, but he shrugged and got up, offering you his arm. “I’ll escort you back to the castle,” he said. You hesitated. “We don’t have to go,” you said. Klaus chuckled. “Give him hell, dear,” is all he replied while he grabbed your arm and looped it in his.

“James Fleamont Potter, you absolute twat!” You yelled from the top of your lungs, when you reached the top of the staircase that led towards the portrait. The lady in the portrait gave you a sour look, but opened the door anyway when you said the password.

James heard you from all the way up in his dorm, and winced, waiting for you to barge in any moment, which you did. “Why the bloody hell would you do that?!” You stabbed your finger against his chest.

“I didn’t do it on purpose-“

“Not on purpose?! You just happened to stand behind me and couldn’t control your arm when it shot out and slapped the mug straight in his lap?” You exclaimed in disbelief.

“Well, I didn’t mean for it to spill on him.”

“So what, you just wanted to throw it around?!”

“No, I just tried to stop you from drinki-“ James realized his slip up too late. A shiver ran up his spine at the eerie silence.

“And pray tell, why shouldn’t I be drinking the butterbeer that was meant to be for Klaus?” You calmly asked. James flinched at your sharp tone that came out way louder and less calm than you had intended.

He opened his mouth to answer you with a lie when you cut him off. “And think it through, before you tell me any lies,” you squinted your eyes at him.

If he wasn’t absolutely sure that you would shred him to pieces, he would say that you looked cute like that. Luckily, he knew better.

“Because it contained the Laxative Potion which wasn’t meant for you,” James admitted quietly, his face contorting in anticipation for your outburst that never came. You simply closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay,” you shook your head in a disbelieving and disappointed manner.

“Wait!” James called out before you could open the door to leave. He nervously breathed out when you actually stopped and turned around, your face unreadable.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

You slowly nodded your head, knowing that James was usually a little bit too proud to apologize so quickly, if at all. “So why did you?”

“Because I’m jealous,” his words came out quiet.

Your eyes softened at him. “Prongs, you’re my best friend, there’s literally nothing to be jealous of. Is this because of what I said at the start of the year? I was kidding, I’m not going to make any new best friends or replace you, I promise,” you comforted him.

James almost laughed to himself in pity. “No, it’s not because of that,” he mumbled. He looked back up at you. “I,” he hesitated. ‘I’m jealous because he gets to date you and don’t.”

You frowned. “What?”

James’ face started to heat up, but he refused to chicken out again. “I think I’m in love with you.” The words knocked your breath out of your lungs.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Yeah, no, I heard you the first time but what? No, you said-, you said that we would never be more than friends. Told me to throw those fantasies away because they’d never be real, so I-“

“I know what I said,” James sighed somberly, but he looked at you with pleading eyes. “If I could take it all back, I would.” You looked conflicted but took a step forward and reached out to him with a sigh.

James shook his head. “I promise you I would, because it was stupid and I’m stupid and I lost all chances and oh Godric, now I’m the arsehole who cost you your date, and I do feel bad about it, but I also don’t regret it because I’m selfish,” James started to ramble in a panic and got lost in his thoughts.

His rambling stopped when you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. His heart melted, and he took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, trying to get lost in the feeling. You couldn’t find it in your heart to be so angry with him anymore. Though it was unbelievably immature of him, and the rest of the marauders, no harm was done, and he was sorry.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled in his shoulder, voice muffled.

“What, why are you sorry?”

“Because I know what it feels like to be in your position,” you sadly smiled at him when you pulled back a little to face him. "And it's shite."

He laighed a little at that and wrapped his arms around you again, pressing you back to his chest, chasing after your touch.

“And you don’t love me anymore?” He couldn’t help but ask. His eyes were trained on the wall behind you as he looked over your shoulder, not quite ready to face you when you would inevitably tell him that you didn't.

You shook your head. “Well, I still love you dearly, James. And I care about you so much, I can’t erase those feelings ‘just like that’ in only one summer break. You’re literally one of the most important people in my life.” You buried your face deeper in his neck. “But no, I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.” You could feel James nod at your words. They were not coming as a surprise at all.

“So, you’ll date Klaus now?” He asked in a small voice, refusing to let you back away from the hug as he was fighting not to cry in defeat.

“Nah, he’s uh, he’s going on a date with Dave tomorrow,” you shrugged.

“Who’s Dave?” He weakly laughed, a little bit unsure but hopeful, and you shook your head. “The waiter.”

“Oh.”

You pushed James away softly and he reluctantly pulled his arms away from you. His eyes looked a little bit bloodshot, and his nose and lips were red. Something about the sight of him pulled you towards him again, this time you settled your hands on both sides of his cheeks which he leaned in to. You made up your mind.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I was so in love with you, Jamie,” you whispered to him, and his heart tugged. ‘I know,’ he wanted to say.

“You managed to make me fall in love with you,” you pressed on. “You’ve done it before-,’

“-I can do it again,” James finished, his eyes wide in realization and a wide grin crossed his face. “Will you let me? Try, I mean. Can I try to win you back?”

“Well, no promises, but you can give it your best shot, Jamie.” You laughed. “I mean, you’re my type after all,” you teased him. He puffed his chest at your words, his mind racing because he just got another chance to fix the ending of your story, and he sure as hell was going to give it all he’s got.

“So, starting right now?”

“After you’ve apologized to Klaus.”

“Right, yeah. You reckon we could all go on a double date together?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Taglist:

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @shrekscrustybudassy @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @loudflowerss @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @laraoverthinks @starsanddream @btsw1fe

@prongsprincessworld @littleshadow17 @prongs-moon @bubybubsters @yeolsbubbles

[gwqine]

‘A FAVOUR’

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: you’ve never got along with the infamous Anthony Lockwood, and to your displeasure, he turns up needing a ‘favour’

THEMES: slowburn, enemies to lovers

REQUESTED BY: @that-choir-girl

WARNINGS: none, just some dislike between characters

NOTES: part one to a series (my masterlist) not proofread yet || leave a comment below to join my taglist! requests are currently open but it may take a while for me to get around to them

My work is not to be reposted, copied, translated or used in any form without explicit permission from myself.

IT WAS RELATIVELY QUIET THAT AFTERNOON, the sun dipping finally and the cafe’s usual racket reduced to a gentle hum. Teaspoons clicked, chairs screeched lightly against the beige floorboards. Towering shadows were cast across the walls, and waiters were now beginning to sweep up beneath empty tables.

Perhaps you should have called it a day, at this point. Should have packed up the leather-bound notebook in front of you, paid your due and left. Perhaps that would have saved you from the encounter itself. But you didn’t.

Instead, you remained hunched over in your chair, pen in hand, scribbling away, drink forgotten. Your shoulders were angled, brows furrowed up in concentration.

That was precisely why you drowned out the sound of the bell above the cafe’s door, as well as the light, confident footsteps that followed.

It was common knowledge across London that Anthony Lockwood hated the idea of failure. If anything, he liked to think he had a reputation of being unbelievably successful in situations where anyone else wouldn’t be so. But with that came a sense of pride. His chest was knotted in frustration simply because he was within twenty meters of you, and he knew this was only going to get worse. He hated this. You. Having to come to you of everyone it could have been.

He had stood by the door for a moment, scanning the room with a look that would suggest there was a disgusting scent in the air. There was nothing such, of course, but it didn’t stop his fingers from twitching in discomfort at the sight of you in the far corner alone. Typical. Always thought you were above socialising.

He lingered there for a moment, debating whether this was worth it. Worth approaching you. Would you refuse? Embarrass him?

You’d certainly be thrilled at doing so. The pair of you hadn’t ever gotten along, and he doubted you ever would. You simply had nothing in common. He couldn’t remember a time when there hadn’t been disliked between you both. You’d been the closest Agent to Quill Kipps, practically his shadow, for long enough to become familiar with Anthony Lockwood before the rest of London had.

More times than he could count on his fingers, Lockwood had crossed swords with Kipps. It didn’t take much provocation, in all honestly. There were moments when Lockwood liked to think that his quick mouth and disturbingly tragic humour left Kipps speechless- yet unfortunately, they were never long lived, because Kipp’s rather sharp-tongued colleague didn’t seem to back down as easily as he did.

Lockwood hadn’t thought much of it, when he had heard of you leaving Fittes and turning to freelancing. If anything, he had been thrilled at the idea. But he was with few options now, with a huge case hanging in the balance, but not enough hands.

He needed help. And as much as he loathed to admit it, you were the best for the job. And he didn’t have much of a choice, for DEPRAC were hardly on the best terms with him courtesy of a mishap on his end a few days prior. All he could do now was seek for a freelancer.

That was how he had ended up here to begin with.

He took a deep breath, straightened his collar and headed over, his heavy boots clicking with his every step. He stopped at your table, but you didn’t even look up. He cleared his throat.

Lockwood saw your gaze lift suddenly, brows raised in mild surprise. It was a look he hadn’t even thought you to be capable of, void of the usual look of distaste and instead curious, gentle even. It didn’t last. Your brows narrowed, and lips closed into a thin line.

“Lockwood,” you acknowledged, tone lacking any form of interest. You looked back down at your book, spinning the pen in your grasp in an attempt to look unbothered. “What do you want?”

A scowl crossed the boy’s face. Of course you weren’t going to let this be easy.

“I just need a word,” he told you, glancing around for a seat. You were grateful that you’d picked a table with no other chairs, but this didn’t seem to bother Lockwood at all; he dragged over a an empty one from a nearby table and dropped into it before you could even protest. He crossed his arms, leaning forward with his elbows propped up on the table. “It’s about a case.” You didn’t react, he noted, and continued with what you were doing carelessly. Lockwood swallowed back his pride, bracing himself for the inevitable. “I need a favour.”

He saw your gaze shoot up.

You paused for a moment, debating internally whether this was legit. You had worked with him in the past, under Fittes, and the only times he had willingly contacted your team was when he needed some background information that the public Archives wouldn’t provide him with. You assumed he just wasn’t aware you weren’t in a position to be of use.

“I’m freelancing now,” you informed him dismissively, focusing on your book again. “I don’t have access to the Fittes database.”

Lockwood muttered something incoherently under his breath, but the word ‘attitude’ wasn’t too hard to miss. You scowled up at him, but his face wasn’t surprised at all. He was already aware, it seemed, that you weren’t going to be of any help with his research. But then what did he want? And how on Earth did he even know where to find you?

He seemed to spot you piecing this together, because he started again hurriedly.

“Look, i’m not exactly spoilt for choices,” he began, voice measured. “Believe me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near you if I had any other options.”

This made you pause for a moment. Lockwood watched you reach for the teacup at your side, movements painfully slow. There was a flicker of smugness in your eyes for a moment, as a wide smile came over your face. He bit back all the curses that came to mind.

“I thought your little group was finally getting somewhere!” you exclaimed, in a tone so mockingly gentle. You took a sip of your warm drink. “Did DEPRAC realise you’re not worth the trouble?”

A muscle in his jaw clenched visibly, his hands curling up into fists in irritation. He loathed this about you, the way you always knew how to throw salt into his wounds, twist the knife that had already been stabbed so far into him, poke him repeatedly with a stick until he would burst. You’d done it the first day he had met you, looked at him with a condescending smirk that made his mind spiral. It was the influence of Kipps, no doubt, but that didn’t make it bearable.

Damn it. This wasn’t a time to dwell.

“It’s nothing to do with DEPRAC. I need you on a case.”

Your eyebrows arched up again at this. Lockwood watched you rock forward onto your elbows like him, with a fleeting look of curiosity.

“And why on Earth would I do that?” You asked coldly. The smile had disappeared. “Correct me if I’m mistaken but you spent the entirety of my time at Fittes making my job much more difficult than it should have been.”

This seemed to outrage him. “Difficult?” He demanded loudly, and a few heads turned in your direction. “It’s not my fault you like to turn up in places you aren’t needed!”

You scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest and leaning back. This just wasn’t true. “Just get lost, Lockwood. I can’t even sit and have a drink without you rocking up to piss me off.”

Lockwood clicked his tongue, glancing about. “Bring it down a notch, love. I’d rather deal with a type two with no chains than be anywhere near your arrogant ass.”

A sound of rage left your lips at this, both the insult and the stupid little term he had used. You slammed the book infront of you shut with a bang. Lockwood bit back a grin, leaning back as you tossed your belongings into your tote bag, tea now forgotten. “If anyone’s arrogant,” you told him, standing up with a flourish of your sleeves and swinging the bag over a shoulder. “It’s you, you insufferable prick!”

Oh, but he knew exactly how to get to you. Lockwood ignored the insult entirely, instead shooting you a smile and motioning towards the drink you were leaving behind. “Not gonna have that tea?”

That did it for you. Within seconds, you had taken the cup in hand and tossed the contents onto the arrogant prat before you. Lockwood barely had a moment to react; he spluttered as it hit him, eyes clenched shut as it sunk into the collar of his shirt and slid down his face. When he pried open his eyes, you looked just as shocked as he felt. His neck was burning, colour rising awkwardly in his cheeks. He didn’t even want to look around; the silence that had fallen told him enough.

“Goodness!” cried a voice over from the till, filled with disbelief. “I’ve just cleaned in here!”

Lockwood arose from his seat, wiping at his face with a hand as he turned. A middle-aged woman was storming over, her face scrunched up in scandal.

“I’m so sorry—“ he began, pushing back his chair as he glanced at you, brows raised as menacingly as he could muster. Your face was still, expressionless.

The woman didn’t want to hear it. “Out!” she ordered, her nostrils flared. “Now!”

The pair of you didn’t need telling twice. The cafe was silent during your walk of shame heading outside onto the street. As rhetorical door swung shut, you paused, still in disbelief. Lockwood seemed taken aback too, because he did the same. The air between you wasn’t tense, nor one of annoyance; it was simply incredulity.

Lockwood scoffed suddenly. “What was that?”

You felt your face redden as you shifted your weight onto one leg, arms crossed defensively. “It’s your fault.”

He shook his head. “And now my coat’s ruined.”

This got a smirk out of you. You turned, ready to leave. “I guess I have good aim.”

Lockwood snorted, falling into step beside you, much to your annoyance. “There was hardly much of a window to miss.”

“Well now that you’ve had me kicked out, you can leave me alone, Lockwood.” You said pointedly, picking up your speed slightly.

He followed closely. “I said I’ll leave you alone! Just shut it for a second and listen! It’s a big case, and I need an extra pair of hands. Two times your usual rate!”

There had to be a hidden agenda. There always was with Anthony Lockwood, and no one ever realised until it was too late. Your steps faltered and you stared at him in search of it.

But his gaze didn’t waver. It was almost…reassuring.

You bit your lip, and his gaze followed the movement. He paused for a second, then seemed to gather himself, clearing his throat. “Three times it then. But that’s the best I can do.”

You raised a hand subconsciously to your face and sighed. “What’s the case?”

Triumph flicked through his brown eyes, and he suddenly seemed to have a spring in his step as he began to move. You followed in pursuit to your own surprise, maintaining a distance.

“It’s simple,” he told you, but you had dealt with him too many times in the past to believe this instantly. “But it’s a well-known client. Huge house, lots of cash…” he trailed off.

“And Dangerous.” You finished.

He scratched the back of his neck. “Look, I don’t have all the details yet but going in there with just three of us is a suicide mission.”

“And so you thought you’d take me along.”

Lockwood narrowed his brows. “God, you’re so negative all the time. I just thought you’d be good for the job, but go believe whatever you like.”

He grimaced as though he’d said something poisonous.

You tapped a foot on the pavement, but ceased immediately. The last thing you were going to do was look worried infront of him. Was this some sort of hoax? It felt it. But something about the desperation in his eyes had said otherwise. Yet you didn’t want to take any chances.

“You’ll draft up a contract then?”

Lockwood shoved a hand into his pocket. “I will.”

You nodded. His face scrunched up as he fished around in the pocket, but it seemed that whatever he was looking for wasn’t there.

“What?” You asked suspiciously. The movement made you recall a tale Kipps had told you not too long ago, where the two boys had argued and Lockwood had dug a flare from his pocket and lobbed it at your former teammate.

Lockwood looked up at you. “Had a business card.” He muttered, now emptying out the pockets of his trousers. “Hold on.”

You watched incredulously as he searched for what felt like an hour, shaking out his coat over and over again.

You sighed, reaching into your own bag. “Just give me the number.”

He paused mid motion. You looked at him. Why on Earth was he turning red?

Oh, for Goodness sake!

“Don’t tell me you don’t even know the telephone number for your own company.”

He didn’t reply.

You let out a huff. “Write mine down then.”

You dug into your bag and pulled out a ballpoint pen, before holding it out to him. Lockwood went to grab it rather irritably, but you pulled it away, face contorted in disgust as you studied his hands, squinting. “Have you got tea on your hands?”

Lockwood let out a grumble. “Need I remind you that you threw it on me?”

You weren’t letting those tacky hands anywhere near your belongings, and the idea made his insides shrivel up in aggravation all over again.

The pair of you stared at eachother with an air of displeasure yet again. Lockwood let out a sharp exhale and tugged back slightly at one of his sleeves. He held out the back of his hand, waiting expectantly.

You sucked at your teeth, clicking the back of the pen without making eye contact. It was awkward, trying to scribble your contact without touching him at all, but it was of course impossible. Instead, you gave in, taking it firmly, sure to dig your nails into his hand as casually as you could manage. He tensed as you wrote, pressing so harshly that there were dents on the back of his hand for a few seconds.

The moment it was done, you let go as if his hand was hot coal.

Lockwood stepped away too, his face burning as he looked around.

“I’ll er— give you a call.”

You merely nodded in response. Lockwood turned away without another word.

Thank you so much for reading! As usual, any comments or thoughts left are much appreciated! Comment to join my taglist!

[slightlymore]

death of peace of mind

train conductor haechan x fem reader

genre: magiccore/miyazaki/tim burton, broad industrial revolution/victorian setting, romance, soulmates au, enemies (?) to lovers, !!slow burn!!, angst, smut, multiperspective

warnings and content: +18, explicit sexual content, virgin reader, fingering, unprotected, nipple play, biting, some level of corruption, sexual tension, oral fem receiving, hand job, pet names (darling, love, baby, my girl, my lady) and titles (Sir, Miss), begging, praise, spanking, sexual tension, gentlemanly and lady-like behaviour etc etc

words: 19k

other characters: mark as reader's friend, jeno for a moment, johnny mentioned

synopsis: The Train. That's where your parents met a few years before you were born and that's where your grandparents met as well as their parents before that. Oh to be grown and travel on the Train as well, meeting your soulmate and falling so madly in love that you'd become consumed by it. And there you were years later, your only travel case in your hand and your best dress on, standing in the Train Station at exactly 1:05am on the 1st of May. You looked up and let the night sky calm you down and when you looked back in front of you, the train was there. What were you supposed to do now? But then one door opened, engulfing you with the freshest flowery scent. The most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life descended and tilted his hat lifting one gloved hand to guide you inside. "Welcome aboard, Miss."

for the lovers of dream sorter haechan

__________

When the curtains call the time

Will we both go home alive?

It wasn't hard to realize

Love's the death of peace of mind

The Train.

That's where your parents met a few years before you were born and that's where your grandparents met as well as their parents before that.

The tales of those encounters enriched your childhood and your fragile dreams. Oh, to be grown and travel on the Train as well, meeting your soulmate and falling so madly in love that you'd become consumed by it.

You’ve always desired it. You’ve always longed for it. 

The teachers would get shiny eyes and beaming smiles on May 1st. You remembered the first time it happened. The air felt different and the town felt more alive than usual. 

"Today is a special day for all of us," your parents also smiled at the breakfast table. They looked almost shy and they exchanged gazes they would usually let themselves have in a more private moment. 

You were in your first year of elementary school but from what you could understand, that day sounded like a big deal for the adults and it started to be a big deal for you as well. 

"This is the day when people go on a Journey to find their soulmate," the teacher repeated what you've already heard at home. 

The Train, the children would whisper, the giddiness in their voices making you almost escape your skin with excitement. 

"Can we go and see it?" you asked with your heart in your throat from the emotion. You really wanted to see all the young adults go to the Train Station and embark. 

The teacher smiled as if that was the most common question asked. "Unfortunately, it's a very private moment. But when you're ready, you will finally see the Train and you will find the love of your life during the Journey." 

You were an only child so besides your parents' tale of how starstruck they both felt upon seeing each other on the Train, you had no other immediate example of how the experience would go. 

"My brother Johnny said the place they ended up in is way more gorgeous than our town," one of your classmates and your best friend said one time. "But not as gorgeous as his partner, he said,” making a throwing-up motion with his fingers. 

A choir of grossed out children made you giggle at the time and you joined them, but deep inside you knew that it was indeed possible to meet a person more gorgeous than the most gorgeous place on earth.

You wanted that. You desperately wanted that. 

Your parents also said their towns of origin weren't as beautiful as the one you were living in and although you could objectively see it was decently cute and cozy you were sure they felt that way because of the rosy love glasses. 

"Why do I have to leave this place when I find my soulmate?" you wondered one time as you were growing older and having more and more thoughts about the Journey. 

Your mom patted your head. "When you find the love of your life the Train stops and lets you both off. The couple has to live in the place they ended up in."

"What if I want to come home?" you argued.

"Your partner will be your home," your dad explained with a fond smile. "We will see each other often the way you see all of your grandparents. Don't worry about missing us."

"Also it is too soon for you to think so deeply about it," your mom chuckled, pulling at your cheek.

Yet, there you were years later, your only suitcase in your hand, which you bought for the occasion, and your best dress on, standing in the Train Station and feeling like the too soon came, well, too soon. 

Your mom helped you put on some makeup as well that day and you had to admit you were feeling pretty cute.

But oh so anxious.

You couldn’t believe you were about to initiate the Journey on the Train. Thoughts of how your soulmate looked like adorned your mind since you could remember but in the latest months you found yourself fantasizing about them more and more. 

But with the pretty thoughts, some thoughts of doom would send rocks to your mind as well feeding your anxiety even further.

The mixed emotions made you uneasy.

"What if there's no soulmate for me?" you looked yourself in the mirror as your mom finished her last touches on your hair. 

"Nonsense," she reassured you. 

"But has it happened before?" you insisted. 

She sighed. "Yes but it's very rare. What happens, in that case, is that you need to come back home and you need to go on the Journey the following year." 

"And are there people who went on for many years and they met no one?"

"Not as far as I know. Everyone met someone sooner or later. Your grandma met your grandpa after 3 years." 

You exhaled. Maybe you'd just go on a little train ride and come home before sunset.

Maybe you'll also need 3 years. 

Maybe no one would fall in love with you ever. 

You expected the Station to be full of people but it was completely empty.

"Don't worry about it. The Station doesn't let you see your friends until you're all on." 

You bit your lower lip and waited. There was no moon on the sky and the stars were very visible. 

You looked up and let the night sky calm you down and when you looked back in front of you, the Train was there. 

"Heavens," you swallowed the little surprising gasp and looked to your right then left feeling your breath accelerate. You didn’t hear it arrive. 

What were you supposed to do now? Was it supposed to feel this ominous? 

But then one door opened with a slow hiss, engulfing you with the freshest flowery scent. 

The most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life descended and tilted his hat lifting one gloved hand to guide you inside.

"Welcome aboard, Miss." 

His hair was black and a bit longer in the back. Your father would have said it looked a bit messy; he’d probably offer some gel and suggested him to comb it backwards. But the man wore it so well that you found yourself thinking how it would feel like to pass your hand through it and mess it up even further. 

“Thank you,” you replied quietly. Then you cleared your throat and tried again. 

The man’s face was a polite mask, not one muscle of his perfect face twitching or moving. On the contrary, you felt your face in flames as you walked near him to enter the wagon. 

“Please, choose the coach you’re most attracted to,” you heard his voice behind you. The fresh flowery perfume followed you both and you realized it was his scent. Taking a few steps forward you found yourself shaking ever so slightly. 

“Who are you?” you turned around before having a chance to look down the dark but cosily illuminated wooden corridor of the train. 

His chest was so close that you could see the little silvery tag on it. Conductor. 

Then you took a step back not realizing how close he was. 

“I apologize for not having introduced myself earlier. I am the Conductor, Miss,” he simply replied. “I’ll be around the Train if you need me. Also, if you ring the bell you’ll find in every wagon."

His eyes were a dark shade of marine blue, you realized, like the ocean during a storm, when you can’t distinguish between the water and the sky.

Your grandpa told you many tales of his life at sea. He used to say it was the most beautiful and terrifying thing, and at the time you didn’t understand how something scary could be beautiful, but that man’s eyes made a shiver go down your spine yet you didn’t want him to stop looking at you. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'll leave you to get comfortable,” he tilted his hat again, making a shadow appear over his eyes, as if reading your mind and seeing your fascination with them. 

You gave him a little bow as well, as your mother has been teaching you it was polite to do when meeting gentlemen, then you stared at the way he turned around and took the opposite direction in the tight corridor. His shoulders almost touched the walls when he walked and his legs looked extremely long in his black uniform. 

The coach you chose was the first on your left, a luxurious dark brown space, with deep bordeaux seats which you realized were softer than any other material you’ve ever felt before. You placed your suitcase on the designated space and sat down, looking at the windows showing your town’s Train Station, then you inhaled and exhaled looking down at your dress and rubbing your lace-gloved hands together.

What were you supposed to do?

Would your soulmate come barging in your coach?

Would you meet over breakfast in the morning?

Why were you all supposed to go at exactly 1:05am? 

You suppressed a yawn wondering where you were expected to sleep, then with the corner of your eye you noticed the curtains slowly close and you gasped feeling the train depart at the same time. 

Your older cousins liked to joke about ghosts roaming around the Train but you thought you were grown already to believe such things. Yet, the movement felt uncanny and you were so on edge that you haven’t realized you were squished against one of the seats’ corners until a ding made you scream. 

On the little table a small card boarded with gold appeared out of thin air. 

“Dear Miss, you are invited for Breakfast in the Dining Car. Please turn the card around for the Train map. My warmest regards, the Conductor” 

You touched the paper with your fingertip as if it were a poisonous snake and the ink smudged a bit as if it has been freshly written. 

Breakfast? At 1am? Maybe he meant tomorrow morning? 

You turned the card around as instructed and the display for the train was illustrated. A little “you are here” red mark told you that your wagon was the one in the middle of the train.

You wondered how did the Conductor know you chose that specific coach when he left you just a few minutes prior and didn’t even check back.

The Dining car was towards the head of the train, the direction in which the Conductor walked, and the name Steam Locomotive adorned the first car. You wondered if he was in there or if his coach was one of the wagons close by. 

The train was moving swiftly so it wasn’t bothering you as you thought it would. The closed curtains made you sad that you couldn’t see the scenery so you got up and extended your hand towards them, trying to perhaps see the machinery through which they were able to close on their own.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice made you jump in place. 

“Mark!” you turned around and walked the few steps towards the door to hug a very dumbfounded young man. 

“Hey, hey, you okay?” he awkwardly stood there even after you retrieved your arms from his neck and stared him up and down. 

“I was so scared to be alone. It’s good to see your face,” you explained. 

Johnny’s younger brother has been your best friend and the one you spoke about the Train Journey the most growing up. You were still ashamed to remember the way you cried for the whole night the time Mark told you his brother hasn’t come home from the Journey because he has found his soulmate. You had a very intense childhood crush on him. 

“I get it,” he smiled then his eyes went down to eye your dress, then up, noticing your prettily arranged hair and makeup.

Then he sighed, almost disappointed. 

Without realizing you touched your cheek. Did he think you were ugly?

“What?” you blinked at him. 

Mark shook his head. “I just-,” he started then interrupted himself, a bright dust of red moving in towards his cheeks and ears. “I thought that maybe you could be- you know-sometimes it happens that even friends-” 

You blinked at him then you felt your own face on fire. “Oh,” you realized what he wanted to say. The scarf you tied around your neck made it difficult for you to breathe. 

“Well,” he scratched the back of his head. “I guess we’re not soulmates. That, of course, if you didn’t feel anything in particular either.” 

“I felt relief,” you said. 

Mark nodded, agreeing with you. “I was also just glad to see a friend.”

Was he disappointed you weren’t his soulmate? Or was he happy it wasn’t you?

“Same.” 

The following silence made him clear his voice once then his eyes fell on the card in your hands. 

“Oh, I got one too. I was wondering if it was a prank inviting me over for breakfast. I was going towards the Dining Car to at least check it out.” 

“Right? I thought I was the one misunderstanding the invite,” you chuckled. “I’ll come with you now if you don't mind.” 

Mark took a few steps back to let you exit the coach and his eyes fell on the window again. “My parents said that if you open the curtains when the train is moving you’ll be forced to descend in the first place you see. Alone. Without the possibility to return on the Train ever again.” 

A shiver ran down your body at his words. 

“There’s also a warning,” he indicated with his chin. 

You followed the direction and noticed the golden plate near the curtains. 

You could have sworn it wasn’t there before. 

_________

The corridor was gorgeously decorated with fresh flowers and paintings. You and Mark took your time to peek into most of the coaches too, giggling a bit when you noticed some of their residents weren’t alone. 

“How long do you think it takes for people to meet everyone on the train?” Mark asked, impressed that some were already coupled. 

You thought about it. “The train stops in every town, doesn’t it? There's so many people. I feel like even a few weeks." 

Mark winced. “That’s a long time. My parents met within 15 minutes of boarding. They had neighbouring coaches.” 

“My parents met after a few days,” you recalled. “My maternal grandparents met after three years of trying.” 

Your friend hummed. “That’s hard. I’d be losing hope.” 

You swallowed the dry lump. “That’s a bit scary, yes.”

You didn’t want to tell him that you were afraid you might end up just like them. 

The Entertainment wagons were about five, and you both held your breaths when entering the first as it was roaming with people. The strangers’ faces turned towards you both with inquisitive eyes, as if checking if one of you were their soulmate. 

You bit your lower lip taking a few steps inside. 

“What exactly do you think we need to feel when meeting the one?” you whispered as some people sighed and turned around, sign you weren’t interesting. 

“No clue. But it has to be something,” Mark answered. “Maybe a sharp feeling. Awe. Even fear?” 

“Fear? Why would I be afraid if I meet my soulmate?” you both walked slowly, staring at the board games people were playing. 

Mark hummed. “Not actual fear. More so like the fear you get right before sliding down with a sleigh. It’s scary but you know it will feel very nice.”

The example made you chuckle and it broke some of the tension you were feeling. Then his words actually arrived to your brain. 

Like the fear before sliding down with a sleigh…

…or the fear when you see a sea storm. 

You shook your head and exited the coach to enter the rest. 

_________

“I can’t believe there’s actual breakfast,” Mark repeated for the third time already, cheeks full with eggs and bacon. 

You giggled, impressed by your own appetite so late at night. Or early in the morning?

“The train has different time zones than your town of origin,” a voice explained. 

The scent came first and it froze you in place, the piece of banana you were about to devour still in mid-air. 

Mark lifted his gaze to the side and greeted the voice. 

“I hope everything is to your liking,” the Conductor added. When you put the banana down on your plate and looked up, he was already looking at you. His stormy eyes were slightly squeezed in an attempt to look polite. His uniform looked impeccable as usual and with his hands clasped behind his back his chest popped underneath it.

You forced yourself to look away. 

“Yes, thank you. The train is gorgeous,” you said. 

The Conductor smiled a bit more. “And I hope this is a congratulatory meal?” he asked, looking at Mark for a moment as well, who furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Oh,” you shook your hands, realizing what he meant. “No no, it’s not like that.”

“We’re just friends,” Mark butt in, a bit scandalized. 

You nodded fervently. “Classmates. From the same town.” 

“Yes. Our coaches are close-by and we just found each other.” 

The Conductor listened to one then the other, looking at both of you intermittently with his everlasting smile. “Well, then. I’m glad you enjoy each other’s company. I wish for you to find your soulmate when the time comes as well.” 

You and Mark both thanked him and watched the Conductor bow enough for his eyes to get the same shadow you saw the first time you met him.

But he lifted his gaze to look at you this time. Slowly, letting his long lashes fan on his cheeks for a moment.

The pupils were very deep and you imagined yourself drowning in the almost black blue of his irises. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn around and look at his back as he walked away to greet other passengers. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to reach and grab the fork because your hands were tightly clasped together on your lap to hide how badly they were shaking. 

_________

On your way back Mark got welcomed by his male friend group in the third Entertainment wagon. Some of them had new faces around and from their shy gazes, you assumed they met their partners already. Some were alone and in the mood to party. 

Mark invited you to stay but you decided to go back to your coach and have some rest.

You wished to be able to party like Mark did. In the end, for him that was also a well deserved holiday after spending most of his days helping his father with the lands. Many thought the same and not everyone wanted to go on the Journey to meet an actual soulmate. For a lot of people it was a nice break from studying or work and that was it. 

But you felt uneasy to be that free-spirited, and you needed time alone to understand what was going on. After all, you’ve been day dreaming about the Journey and the Train your whole life. And now that the desired moment arrived there was something off about it all.

And you couldn’t point it out. 

You’ve never felt more relieved to enter your coach and see a fluffy small bed in one of the seats’ places. You sat on it and you also found it very comfortable. How it got there you had no idea and by that time you decided to stop asking yourself questions on how that Train actually worked. 

The spring dress you chose for yourself was easy to slip into but quite hard to undo, you realized, grunting a few times as you tried to untie the light corset. When you managed to open it you exhaled deeply and you let it fall to your feet. 

Then your eyes darted towards the warning sign near the window as you slowly got under the covers.

Curiosity killed the cat but you really wanted to know what was behind those curtains and why you weren’t allowed to know. 

Before you could realize that you didn’t brush your teeth or wash your face, the train stopped and you opened your eyes in the silence. 

“Thank you for traveling with us. I wish you happiness,” the Conductor’s voice was muffled outside your window and you remembered your coach was the first near the main train entrance. 

Did someone already get off as a couple? Or was that someone who looked outside and was now forced to live alone?

You walked slowly and stealthy and you were about to turn the corner to where the entrance you came in was when the voices stopped you in place.

They were many, perhaps six different ones, thanking the Conductor and chatting away, making already plans for the future. Imagining you in their place gave you anxiety - after all they all met a few hours ago and already thought of getting married - but you were also glad they were all soulmate couples and not any forsaken person who went against the rules.

Somehow, you also felt a but envious that it has been that quick and smooth for them. 

The Conductor’s back was towards you and you looked at his long fingers behind his back as he greeted the people away. His white gloves covered them and for some reason you wondered how they looked like naked. His waist was visibly smaller than his shoulders and the spine line descended so beautifully that you felt the urge to draw him, although you were no artist. 

You shook your head trying to get rid of thouse thoughts and realized that in the meantime the chatter died down as the passengers walked towards the Station.

The Conductor was still outside, probably seeing them away for good before departing, and his scent was slowly engulfing you the more you remained in his presence.

You swallowed. How could a man smell that good? 

Then you realized you had a full-on view of the Station so you squatted down behind the corner and tried to make sense of what was outside. That was your only chance, you figured.

“You know that’s forbidden, right?” the man’s smooth voice made you jolt.

The Conductor was still standing stoically without looking back and you let your gaze fall around as to understand who he was addressing, because he definitely couldn’t have seen you. 

“Yes. I’m talking to you, Miss,” he turned around enough for you to see his relaxed expression.

You could see only half of his face and the only visible eyebrow was lifted in a way that made his gaze look- well, sexy, you realized with a certain degree of embarrassment.

You got up and took a step forwards. “Well, I am not looking out through a window, so it is not technically forbidden. There’s not a sign near the entrance telling me I can't do this.” 

The Conductor turned around fully. His lazy gaze rested on your face then slowly went down your body and stopped on your nude feet. His eyebrow lifted even more. You wigled your toes in embarrassment. 

“I forgot to bring shoes,” you mumbled, your burst of confidence suddenly dying down. 

“And a dressing gown,” he added, his pupils darting back down to your chest and hips in the almost sheer underdress you were wearing to sleep. “And some common sense,” he added, locking eyes with you. 

You crossed your arms on your chest to prevent him from looking any further. Then you lifted your chin in disdain at his last phrase. 

“That’s not very polite of you. Gentlemen avert their eyes.” 

“Tell me, Miss. What prevents me from grabbing you and making you descend here in this town with the excuse of you not following the rules?” 

You gulped. “Common sense, of course. Why would you even do that?” 

“Why not? Maybe I forgot to bring it with me the way you did coming here.” 

You let your arms fall down in anger. “That would be very inappropriate and illegal!” 

“Says who?” he smirked. “There’s no warning near the door saying I can’t do that.” 

You bit your lower lip. “I get it. I should not be here. But you can’t push me out of the train. That would be barbaric.”

The Conductor stepped back inside in one fluid movement. “Usually passengers rest in their coaches or entertain themselves with the others in an attempt to find their soulmate. They don’t go wandering about.” 

You dropped your gaze to his chest as he was getting way too close for your liking.

And when he unbuttoned his jacket, slowly, and let it slide off his shoulders and fall on yours instead, you visibly shuddered.

It was warm and big, and it smelled like him. Like that overwhelming flowery perfume.

You felt dizzy. 

“I was just curious,” you whispered, feeling like a little child being scolded. But the Conductor’s expression was warm when you dared to look at his face again.

His lips were full and plump and you felt a tight lump in your throat seeing them move. 

“Go back to sleep, Miss.” 

His deep voice rang in your head the whole time you washed your face and brushed your teeth, feeling it incredibly warm. You let his jacket fall on the seat in front of your bed but as you slid under the covers you wore it again, and nuzzled you face into the material. 

_________

In the morning, or what you felt was morning, you wore another dress you packed, a deep blue one you instinctively chose with little black flowers around the crown of it. 

Some people were walking against you in the corridor and you could audibly hear them stop their breathing as you locked eyes.

They were wondering if you were their soulmate.

Yesterday you would have walked slowly and looked around shyly as well, but today all you wanted to do was to bring the Conductor his jacket back and all of those people were just in your way. 

You were about to start pushing against people’s shoulders when Mark’s head pocked out of a coach and his ruffled hair made you realized he just woke up.

Not in his bed. 

“Mark Lee!” you stopped in place. 

“Fuck,” he blinked at you. “You out of all people. I mean, so nice to see you-”

“Did you find your soul-”

Mark exited the coach quickly and closed the door behind him. “Shh,” he was about to place one hand on your mouth but then looked at it and put it behind his back instead. 

“Let’s not- do not say anything.” 

You blinked at him. “Are you telling me that-” 

“Maybe,” he interrupted you again. “Listen, people here are gorgeous. There’s no need to save myself for marriage or anything.” 

Your jaw fell. “Mark Lee, did you just sleep with some random woman?” 

He scratched one eyebrow. “Did I offend your sensibility?” 

“You’re just some man, aren’t you?” you looked him up and down. “Whatever. Have fun,” you rolled your eyes and started to walk again. “And wash that hand, would you?” 

“How do you even know-” 

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” you turned around to quickly let your tongue out at him. 

“Is that the Conductor’s jacket?” he asked before you could exit the car. 

“No? I just found it around,” you answered quickly, leaving him behind with his questions. 

The Conductor said you had no common sense but you had enough common sense to know that being seen around with his jacket would somehow be a mistake. He was the one who didn’t have the common sense to know to not send you to bed with it. 

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t realize how far up the train you arrived and when the cars started to be empty safe for storage items you stopped in place to catch your breath.

It was very silent up there, the only sound coming from the rails outside and the steam locomotive. 

You were close. And you had no idea why you knew that. 

The walk towards the locomotive was slow and the spaces less fancy. Some coaches were on your right and you wondered if perhaps the Conductor was in one of them.

Or maybe you were stupid and he was way back in the train, doing his job. 

When you felt like that damned train didn’t even have an end, in front of you a big dark door with a skull on it indicating some type of danger opened and the swish of fresh flowers made you close your eyes for a moment. 

The Conductor’s head was tilted to the side as if amused. 

“I see that this time you’re decently dressed,” he said, the his gaze fell on your chest. “Almost.”

You gulped and put on a brave expression. “I came to give you this back. Thank you.” 

The man looked at the jacket you were holding and reached towards it slowly. His fingertips touched your knuckles for a brief moment and it made you so tense that you felt your head pulsating. 

“You could have rung the bell. There was no need to come all the way up here.” 

You let the air come out your nostrils. “You always scold me. You should be thankful I brought this back to you.” 

“I am scolding you because you keep taking the most convoluted decisions instead of the straight forward ones.” 

The informal conversation and the lack of Miss from his part made you nervous so you tried to look around his shoulder to see if any staff, or worse, the train driver could hear it.

Although you found his tone aggravating you didn’t want him to lose his job or anything. 

“So you didn’t make me come because you were curious to see the Locomotive instead,” the Conductor added, seeing you snoop your nose around.

You straightened your back. “I was just trying to see if someone was listening to your inappropriate comments towards a passenger and a lady.” 

The Conductor smiled and took a step to the side. “No one is here.” 

For a second you forgot about him, the curiosity of how that Train actually worked exciting you more. “Who drives this then?” you stepped in and looked around the small space. 

“No one,” the man explained and his breath caressed the back of your neck. When you looked behind your shoulder you realized he was staring at the goosebumps on your exposed skin. 

“Why is there a chair here, then?” you cleared your throat and walked around it. 

The Conductor wore his jacket and put his hands on the back of the big chair. “I like to sit here and look outside.” 

You lifted your gaze towards the small window in front of you. You hadn’t even realized you could see outside. 

“Do you want to try and sit down?” he asked. 

You bit your lower lip. “Would that be alright?” 

“I thought you didn’t care for rules,” he smirked. 

You lifted your chin and sat down. It wasn’t much, just the railroad in front of you and some trees on each side. But it was peaceful and your curiosity got fully fed.

Now you wondered when it was the time to be killed like a cat. 

“Why are you really here, Miss?” 

The Conductor’s voice was so close to your ear that your spine curved. But you didn’t move away. 

“Don’t-” you gulped. “Don’t flatter yourself or anything. I came here because I was curious and I had to give your jacket back.”

His index finger touched one of your hairs near the ear and you jolted in place, moving your head away. The man was smiling. He was holding a small feather that was probably stuck there. 

“I hope you’re satisfied at all times, Miss,” he replied. “And I am here to make sure all of your future needs are fulfilled as well.” 

That tone and those polite words were meant to be professional yet your mind went to Mark’s ruffled hair and half naked body. You imagined the Conductor’s dark hair on your pillow and his scent engulfing you all as his touch made your spine curve. And his hand, would he also use his hands on you like Mark did with his woman?

You shook the thoughts out of your head and got up quickly, feeling it hard to breathe in that narrow space. 

“Thank you. I will leave now,” you voice was wavering and if he noticed it he didn’t say anything about it. 

“I hope you have a pleasant journey,” he wished as you exited the car. 

He didn’t mention anything about finding a soulmate this time. 

__________

Your scent lingered on Haechan’s body the whole day.

It was in his hair, his nostrils, his skin, around his neck and his hands. He wondered if you slept with his jacket the whole night and the thought of your naked body pressed against the material of it made him almost knock heads with a passenger. 

“Good day to you, Sir,” he tilted his hat last minute.

The young man barely noticed him, as his eyes were directed towards another person in the corner of the car.

Haechan was very acustomed to that gaze. He saw it every day for the past few years - the look of someone madly in love at first sight. 

That was how your eyes looked like the first instant he saw you on the platform waiting for the Train.

Waiting for him. 

He wondered how that gaze looked on his face but he was sure you didn’t notice it.

He wasn’t even sure it was there in the first place. 

His instincts got the best of him and he worked on autopilot. Polite face, good smile, distance.

Hell, he even took the sign away from your windows for five minutes. But then you almost opened the damn curtains - as he intended for you to - and he realized he couldn’t physically let you go.

It was probably a mistake, he thought the first seconds of seeing you. He took the job of the Conductor because his old grandpa couldn’t work anymore. Haechan lived on that train since he could remember. It was always him and his old grandpa, in the middle of the swarm of people looking for soulmates. It made him sick to death to see all that love around him. 

I wish you didn’t hate your parents for falling in love, Haechan, his grandpa used to say.

But it would have been different if they fell in love with each other.

But they didn’t. 

The boy has been told the tale of his family of Conductors many times. It was a curse, they said. No one in his family had soulmates and they were tasked with assisting the Train instead. 

How did you and grandma decide to be together then? small Haechan asked at the time. 

Sometimes you just choose who to spend your life with. This is how your parents met as well. Your father came on this train often and never met his soulmate. Your mother understood he might be a good husband choice so she approached him and that’s how they got together. 

But then dad met another woman on the train and left my mom. 

The grandpa sighed deeply. He just met his soulmate. He didn’t do anything wrong. 

Haechan as a child couldn’t know what to say to that.

He knew something was not right but he didn’t have the vocabulary to argue back.

But as a teenager he finally understood. 

He abandoned my mom, your daughter, and he abandoned me. Don’t speak about that man ever again. 

Haechan’s grandpa would only sigh and pat his shoulder. You’re growing into a fine young man. I am proud of you. And I am sorry that happened. When you’ll meet your person you’ll understand their choices. 

I will never understand it because I don’t have a soulmate. And I surely as hell won’t marry a woman that might meet her rightful soulmate years later and leave me.

Your grandma never left me, he used to remind him. And I wish for you to have children. Who’s going to assist this Train otherwise? 

To hell with this fucking Train, Haechan would explode and run away. 

He didn’t hate the Train.

It was his home.

So when he’d calm down, sitting on the outside metal stairs and looking at the scenery no one besides him and grandpa were allowed to see, he’d realize he didn’t hate his parents either.

His mom remarried and left the Train after dad left.

Haechan wasn’t sure if she was actually in love although from her letters she seemed happy, but the memories of her time closed off in a coach on the verge of death were still haunting him. Haechan stopped reading his father’s letters altogether and started to burn them in the Locomotive. 

A young woman approached him and Haechan shook off the memories and the convoluted thoughts about you from his head. 

“How may I help you, Miss?” he placed his hands behind his back with the best custom service expression plastered on his face. 

The woman seemed embarrassed. 

“If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate to ask me,” he tried to reassure her. 

She inhaled and took a step forward. Haechan leaned down to hear her better. “Well, you know how you said the coaches makes appear everything that you want? I was-, well, I met a man and- I know he’s not my soulmate but it’s not against the rules and we’re doing fine together for now and we were well, we were wondering how to make- how not to-” 

“Get pregnant?” Haechan simply asked and the woman’s pale face turned purple from embarrassment.

She surely didn’t expect him to be that straightforward. “Usually if you really don’t want that to happen, it doesn't,” Haechan continued. “If you’ve encountered difficulties then maybe you or your partner have-,” he interrupted himself. “-a breeding kink?” 

The young woman placed her palms to her cheeks and gave him a little bow. “I understand. I think I need to go now, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” 

“You just have to-” Haechan tried again but the woman already ran away. 

“I see I’m not the only one you’re being not so professional with,” a voice made him turn around. 

__________

You were on your way for lunch. Or dinner? You lost track of time. You’ve been on that Train for less than 24 hours yet you felt like a lifetime already passed. To think you had to stay there until meeting your soulmate made you almost throw up. 

“I thought you were very excited to meet your soulmate,” Mark commented that morning, eyes closed under the fake sun in the fake seaside car.

You sighed. 

“I am.”

You were.

Or you thought you were. But somehow you lost interest. You imagined yourself inside the Train for so long that the moment you actually got on it it all lost meaning. 

And how was it possible that none of the men looked interesting enough to even have a mere conversation? The only ones approaching you were trying to get under your dress and you soon realized that romance was not the way you imagined it to be. 

“You don’t sound like excited. It’s as if you can’t wait to get off of here,” he opened one eye then turned to his side to see you better. “If you haven’t met the one yet, then what about enjoying it to the fullest until you can? It’s a place with free food and entertainment.” 

You gave him the side eye. “I do not intend to sleep around with random men. I’m a lady.” 

Mark rolled his eyes. “I’m also a gentleman and going down on people doesn’t make me less gentle.”

You almost spat your water. The Train somehow made everyone change or it opened your innocent eyes because you had no idea your childhood friend had that side of him. 

“Did you really not find anyone who’s kinda attractive? You don’t even have to know his name,” he insisted. 

Actually, there was a man whose name you didn’t know who you found very attractive. That was probably the worst part of that experience. Was it normal to be attracted to the Conductor like that? 

You shook your head. “Nonsense. I will wait for my soulmate. And no, no one around is attractive enough.” 

Mark exhaled and went back to his previous position. “I just don’t like seeing you sad.” 

“I’m not sad.” 

“Then angry.” 

“I’m not angry.” 

“You’re angry now.” 

“Because you’re pissing me off,” you sat up. “I’m going to eat.” 

You were already too confused for your liking. You didn’t need Mark Lee to investigate further.

The desire to have a soulmate was still there deep inside, the longiness and the need, yet for some reason you also felt numb to everything around you. 

Still feeling like Mark rubbed you the wrong way you almost missed the figures of the Conductor leaning down to whisper in a young gorgeous’ woman’s ear in the middle of the Library wagon. 

The woman seemed scandalized and so red that she looked like a tomato. The Conductor’s face was unfazed but a bit confused as she ran away. 

“I see I’m not the only one you’re being not so professional with,” you couldn’t help but say. 

The car was empty safe for the two of you and when he turned around you smelled his ever present scent.

It drove you insane. What kind of damn cologne was that man wearing?

“What do you go flirting with passengers for?” you crossed your arms on your chest. Maybe Mark was right and you were actually angry but seeing the Conductor’s face just added to the whole irritation, especially catching him flirting with your shy women. 

The Conductor tilted his head to the side as if genuinely surprised but also intrigued at your reaction. 

“What if someone else besides me saw you? What would happen to your position and reputation?” you went on. 

The man took his time to open his mouth and talk. “I don’t understand if you’re mad at me or if you’re worried for me.”

You lifted your chin. “Maybe both.” 

“It takes a good amount of care for both. Do you care about me?” 

He took a few steps towards you and the closeness made his voice quieter. 

You didn’t let him intimidate you with his charm. 

“I was raised a lady of good principles and seeing the Conductor of a Train meant to help people find their soulmates flirt with its passengers is not appropriate and I have to speak on it.” 

The Conductor’s smile widened. “And lurking at the time of descent in a skimpy night gown and nude feet is appropriate?”

His dark blue eyes were more stormy than usual and the moles on his face reminded you of the nightsky above you as you were waiting for the Train. 

“Coming all the way to my coach with a dizzying cleavage is appropriate?” 

His voice was so deep and close that you had to avert your gaze to catch your breath. 

“Shaking like this in my presence and being unable to look me in the face is appropriate?” he whispered so close to your lips that you inhaled and took a few steps back. 

“You’re also here to find a soulmate, Miss. Concentrate on doing that and leave other people’s business to themselves,” he added in his usual calm voice and walking around you he left you breathless and alone in the middle of the Library. 

________

Haechan reached for his tie to undo the knot and he realized his fingers were slightly shaking.

Your scent made him more on edge than usual and the fact he could still smell you on his jacket made him unreasonable mad.

And your face and expression, your hurt eyes seeng him talk to that woman, as if you were jealous, was driving him insane.

What were you thinking roaming around him like that? With your delicate blue dress and your cleavage moving up and down in that damn corset with every quick breath your took? 

He should have let you move the curtains and never see you again. 

Haechan walked the distance from the entrance door of the car to the Bar and without caring about anyone he walked behind it and poured himself a shot of whiskey. 

“Hard day?” a voice made him sigh deeply before turning around. 

He forced himself to smile. “I am not in service right now,” he lied to excuse his drinking on the job. 

The young man waved his hand. “No one would care anyway. They’re either on a date or uhh fucking.” 

“Would you like one?” Haechan indicated the bottle, ignoring the man’s choice of words.

The other nodded. “I’m Jeno.” 

He expected Haechan’s name in return but the Conductor never tells his name to passengers. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay,” Haechan said instead, pushing a glass towards Jeno. 

The latter took it and winced after downing it. “I’m not here for that. I’m actually a journalist.” 

Haechan fought the urge to roll his eyes. There was one of two of them every year trying to gather some kind of hidden information about the Train. Haechan also thought there were some secrets about it growing up but it was a pretty straight forward thing. Just a Train in which you can meet your soulmate. Nothing more.

Well, that until he met you and your scent got under his skin. 

“Is there something specific you’re writing about?” Haechan politely asked. 

“Is it true that soulmates understand they’re soulmates because of each other’s scent?” he asked, and a writing pad materialized in front of him. 

Haechan eyed his pen ready to take notes then his face. “You should ask the passengers. I am not someone who has a soulmate.” 

“So it’s true that the Conductor has no soulmate.” 

“Yes. It’s not a secret.” 

Jeno nodded, not writing anything as if that wasn’t the information he was actually seeking out of him. 

“My parents said there’s no such thing as scent. They’re also divorced,” he said. 

Haechan sighed. Another young man hurt by that Train and his parents. “Sometimes people come here and go home together even if they’re not sure they’re actual soulmates. Maybe your parents mistook their union for a soulmate bond but it was just infatuation.” 

“Shouldn’t this place guarantee a soulmate union?” Jeno asked. He looked very angry and Haechan could understand why. “What’s the purpose of this Train then? Let people choose each other on land at this point.” 

“It’s called free choice. The Train knows who’s an actual soulmate pair and usually it doesn’t stop for couples who are not actually bonded. This is why the train is not stopping now for all the people who are- uh, fucking.” Haechan was too exhausted to choose a more gentlemanly term for that. 

Jeno didn’t seem to care. “Then why did it stop for my parents?” 

“They probably insisted for it to stop. The Train doesn’t go against the free choice.” 

Jeno poured another shot, gave it to Haechan and took a deep gulp straight from the bottle. 

“Nice chat, Conductor. Can I ask to leave now?” 

Haechan kept quiet for a moment. “You should stay until you meet someone or until the Journey comes to an end. If you leave now you will not be allowed to come back.” 

“There’s no such thing,” Jeno whispered and got up, walking towards the windows. With one quick hand he moved the curtains away. The Train stopped slowly on its tracks and Haechan sighed. 

“Please follow me. I’ll escort you to the exit for going against the rules."

__________

Is it true that soulmates understand they’re soulmates because of each other’s scent?

That phrase has been haunting you for the following hours.

You were rolling in bed from the moment you decided to try and sleep after pacing your coach for a while.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

You didn’t even mean to follow the Conductor but his pace was urgent and the curiosity still hasn’t killed you, especially after that heated conversation you had in the Library.

Shaking in his presence and being unable to look him in the face? He could see that? What was going on and why were you feeling like committing the biggest crime you could think of?

No, why was the Conductor with his deep eyes and his pillowy lips and his smooth voice the only thing you could think of when you were on that dam Train to find your soulmate?

The Conductor walked towards the Bar and you remained back in the smaller corridor, watching his throat gulp that brown liquid like it was water. Why did he look so upset? Was it you? Or was it his missed opportunity with that lady that you interrupted?

You felt stupid spying him like that and you were about to turn around and walk away when the voice of a second man made you stop in your tracks. 

I’m actually a journalist, the man said and you wondered what the Conductor would say back. Would he accept to give the journalist information?

Is it true that soulmates understand they’re soulmates because of each other’s scent? You felt your blood turn to ice. What did he mean by that? Scents? Your parents didn’t tell you anything about that. 

But then the following exchange of information made you feel even worse. 

You should ask the passengers. I am not someone who has a soulmate.

So it’s true that the Conductor has no soulmate.

Yes. It’s not a secret.

Mark looked like a baby chick with his hair ruffled around his face. But you could tell it was from simple sleeping and not messing around with someone’s daughter’s insides. 

You pushed him back into his coach after he opened the door and you sat down. 

“Wow, when I told you to look around and decide who to fuck I didn’t think that someone would be-” 

You interrupted him. “Mark, tell me everything you know about the Train, soulmates, and-” you stopped for a second, “the Conductor.” 

Mark blinked hard as if unable to keep his eyes open and laid back in his bed. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

“Actually I’ve been trying to keep track of the time and it should be middle of the afternoon.” 

“Well, everything here is fucked and for me it’s middle of the night. Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” 

You sighed and relaxed in the dark red velvety couch. “Have you ever heard of people feeling their soulmate’s scent more that other people’s?” 

Mark hummed, one hand to scratch his forehead. “Yes. Johnny talked about it but at the time I thought it was something stupid people in love notice about each other. He said his partner smelled like patchouli and warm spices.” 

You lifted your legs up to warm them under your night gown. “And your parents?” 

“Dad said mom smells like lavender and mom said dad smells like woody herbal amber or something like that,” he chuckled, shaking his head. 

He then opened his eyes and got up to sit, mirroring you. “Why? Did you meet someone whose scent is intense for you?” 

You wondered if telling him the truth. “No, I just-” you played with a loose string along the hem of your gown, “I overheard a man talking about his parents never mentioning any scent and they’re divorced now.” 

Mark leaned forwards. “Are you worried that your parents are not real soulmates since they also never mentioned scents?”

Actually that didn’t even cross your head but you realized that might be a possibility. You didn’t want your parents to divorce or anything. 

“Oh, come on. I’m sure that’s not the case at all,” Mark came to sit beside you and wrapped your shoulders with his arms. You weren’t there because of your parents but Mark felt warm and comfortable to lean on so you didn’t correct him. 

“What about the Conductor?” he then asked and you hoped he couldn’t feel the way you tensioned in his hold. “What did you want to know?” 

You gulped and sat straight, letting Mark’s arms fall to your waist instead. “I’ve heard he doesn't have a soulmate.” 

Mark nodded. “I’ve heard that too. Honestly I thought he would be some kind of very ancient man. At least, my parents said he’s very old, but maybe this is a new one.” 

You kept quiet, biting your lower lip. 

“What is it that you’re not telling me?” Mark whispered. 

You lifted your gaze and his big sparkly eyes gave you the courage to open your mouth. 

“If the Conductor has no soulmate, and soulmates feel each other’s scent, then why do I feel the Conductor’s scent everywhere I go?” 

________

After Mark collected his jaw from the floor and you kept him up brainstorming the whole night, you met both early in the morning over breakfast to further discuss the possibility of you and the Conductor being soulmates. 

“Not to put you down or anything,” he repeated, “but I’ve never heard of anyone bonding with the Conductor.” 

You sighed staring down your coffee with no desire to drink it but knowing it would wake you up. 

“I know, Mark, this is why I’m so dumbfounded.”

“I mean, also the original Conductor was a mummy of an old man. Maybe that’s why no one bonded with him. Maybe he was married already and that's how the rumour of him not having a soulmate started.”

You had a sip of the bitter liquid and winced. You were glad Mark was playing devil’s advocate with himself because you had no more force to discuss all the different points of view. 

“I don’t even think it matters. He warned me multiple times to leave him alone and find a soulmate. How would being soulmates with him even work? Where would the Train stop? Would I be forced to stay here? Being the Conductress? Forever?” you felt like descending into madness. 

“Listen, calm down. I think the solution is to check it myself first. We find him, I smell him. If it’s just his high quality cologne then you can put your mind at ease.” 

You didn’t want to ask what would happen if he couldn’t smell anything but maybe your desperate eyes told him your feelings because he sighed.

“And if I don’t smell anything, I try to rizz him up and I’ll be like dang you look like you know your cologne. Can you show me your collection? And I go to his coach and I smell all of the bottles and if it’s any of them we know it’s just his perfume and not his actual scent.” 

You opened your mouth. 

“And-” he interrupted lifting one finger, “if it’s none of them then we will come back here and brainstorm together. He’s an attractive man. Maybe you’re just sexually attracted to him. I bet that if you tried and fucked-”

“I will not fuck the Conductor,” you said, perhaps too loudly. You both looked around. 

You lowered your voice. “I don’t know what’s going on but having that kind of relation with him doesn’t sound like a good idea.” 

Mark leaned back in his chair. “Okay then. I’ll start by going on with my plan then we’ll see.”

You exhaled and nodded once. “That sounds like such a stupid plan.” 

Mark’s smile widened. “At least something fun is happening in this stupid Train besides drinking and sleeping around.” 

________

Haechan finished his morning routine walk across all wagons and sighed looking at his pocket watch. Soon everyone would be done with breakfast and would go about their business. He had to go and assist in the enternatinment wagons in some time as well. 

Then he felt a pair of eyes on his back and lifted one eyebrow. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” he turned around to see your little friend fake confidence leaning on a wall.

If Haechan didn’t know better he’d think the young man was trying to flirt. 

“Oh, hello there Conductor. Or maybe I should say-” Mark stopped his phrase as if waiting for Haechan to say his name. 

“Conductor is fine,” he smiled, joining his gloved hands together in front of him. 

“Right right. I will not push any boundaries. I was just wondering, like from a gentleman to another gentleman, if you can aid me choosing a cologne.” 

Whatever Haechan expected that man to say it wasn’t that.

He had to suppress a laugh. 

“A cologne, sir?” 

Mark walked around him casually. “I mean, I am here to meet a soulmate and I thought damn what if I don’t smell good? That’s my biggest fear actually, you know?” he put his hand on the chest to convey how intensely he felt about not smelling good. 

“When you’ll meet your soulmate, sir, they will think you smell like their favourite scent, so no need to worry.” 

Mark stopped in his tracks and his stupid fake expression fell. “You said soulmates smell like their favourite scents just now?” 

Haechan exhaled. “That’s what I said, sir.” He really hated repeating himself. 

Mark kept looking at him so Haechan was about to excuse himself and bid the weird man farewell but then the awareness of his behaviour washed over him like a cold wave and he stopped in place.

Haechan lifted his gaze and met Mark’s intense black eyes. 

“Are you not curious why I am asking you about scents, Mister Conductor?” his voice suddenly became lower. 

“I am not a curious man, sir,” Haechan straightened his tie with the intention of leaving. He didn’t like where all of that was going.

But Mark took a step to the side, blocking his way. 

“So what’s your favourite scent?”

Haechan fought the urge to grab the dude and physically move him away. “I like clean and fresh scents, sir.” 

“And what does Y/N smell like?”

Haechan put his tongue in the cheek and flared his nostrils. “I wouldn’t know.”

_________

Mark thought about keeping this all a secret from you. Being soulmates with the Conductor of the Soulmates Train didn’t sound like a great time. It was like falling in love with Death when it comes to kill you. But he wasn’t going to be a bad friend. 

He told you to wait in the Seaside wagon in hopes you could relax hearing the sea waves, but when he entered he found you fidgeting instead. 

“How did it go?” you walked up to him but he exhaled and dragged you towards the lounge chairs.

He didn’t know what you wanted to hear, if confirmation that the Conductor was your soulmate, or if you wanted nothing to do with him. 

“First of all, he doesn’t smell like anything to me,” Mark said. “He just has a normal clean person scent. Like any other person.” 

You swallowed and inhaled shakily, letting the information sink in. 

“Second of all, he said soulmates smell like each other’s favourite scents.” 

You opened your mouth but nothing came out of it.

“What does he smell like to you, Y/N? Is it flowers?” 

Mark knew you’ve always loved that scent. The sweet but fresh perfume of flowers with their infinite colours. 

He didn’t need you to answer, he saw it in your pupils. You watched Mark close his eyes for a moment and exhale then open them again. 

“It’s not all,” he said. “He behaved weirdly when I mentioned you. I have a hunch that he can sense your scent as well.” 

________

I think you should talk about it together, Mark suggested, but you couldn’t just do that, could you? He was the Conductor after all. Such thing was impossible. 

Also, for how much you loved Mark, risking such improper behaviour only because of a hunch was too much for you. 

You thought you were afraid of not finding a soulmate. Growing up that has been your everlasting fear; yet your brain has never even taken into consideration the perspective of finding your soulmate in a man you could not have. 

For how much you’ve been wanting to see him, bump into him, or exchange a few stupid words to each other in the past days, your felt the same equal amount of desire to avoid him at all costs. 

You thought you wanted Mark to come back and tell you that it was just the Conductor’s overbearing cologne. You wanted him to say he smelt it too and that is confirmation that he couldn’t possibly be your soulmate.

Yet when he fed your idea that the Conductor might be your man the relief was so intense that you almost cried. 

It drove you insane. 

The following days you haven’t seen the Conductor once. Perhaps the encounter with Mark made him uncomfortable and he decided to avoid you as well. What if he though you were some kind of creep? He did warn you to leave him alone and concentrate on finding a soulmate instead. Was it possible to have a one sided soulmate? 

Somehow you felt like that situation was all your fault. Maybe that was the death moment of the curiousity saying, because you kinda felt like dying slowly if you thought about any other man. Maybe if you didn’t go to see the descending moment, maybe if you didn’t sleep with his jacket, maybe if you didn’t go and find him in the Locomotive, maybe if you didn’t confront him in the Library, you wouldn’t feel like that.

Maybe maybe maybe. 

“I know this is not good friend advice, but you could get your mind off of him by, you know, using someone else,” Mark shrugged, peeling an apple with a knife.

You sighed, pulling your summer hat lower on your eyes. The seaside car soon became you and Mark’s favourite. “You know what? Maybe you’re right.” 

“You finally gave in my temptation?” he wigled his eyebrows. 

“Yes. You’re the little devil sitting on my shoulder.” 

Mark cut a piece of apple and ate it off the knife. “I can introduce you to some fine gentlemen.” 

You snorted. “I saw the gentlemen you have around Mark Lee.” 

“And? Are they not fine?” 

“You can have them.” 

Mark rolled his eyes. “Do you want to have fun or not?” 

“I do. But I’m not sure if fucking random men is what I consider peak of amusement,” you replied. Mark didn’t say anything so you kept going. “Although, I noticed that the light brow hair man is not bad. I think his name is Jaehyun. He has nice hands and a great smile. I do enjoy a good dimple.” 

You expected Mark to laugh at you but he remained quiet safe for a little nudge he gave you. You sighed. “The other J name man is not bad either. He’s tall and he looks gentle like a puppy.” 

“Uhm,” Mark said and nudged you again. 

“What? You said I should sleep with one of them,” you slid away the hat to give him a venomous side eye when your mouth dropped open. 

Mark was looking at you with a little tight smile and in front of you, almost covering the artificial sun of the wagon, was standing the Conductor. 

“I apologize, Miss. I didn’t want to interrupt your- uh lovely monologue,” he tilted his stupid hat. 

You sat up feeling your body on fire. Then you looked at Mark who gave you a small apologetic smile. 

Your mouth was dry and you had no idea what was the appropriate thing to say to someone who overheard you talk about fornication. 

His scent should have told you he was there, but maybe you got so used to it that you were feeling it everywhere, messing with your perceptions. 

“Good day, sir,” you stupidly said. 

“I was just making sure you’re enjoying your stay,” the Conductor looked at you first, then Mark. “From your conversation I assume everything is fine.” His eyes looked black in the shadow and the little line between his eyebrow looked like a crack in his otherwise perfect face.

You gulped and bit your lower lip. 

“Just a precaution. I told this the lady that stopped me in the Library the other day also, if you remember. As a contraceptive, please make sure to strongly desire to not get pregnant, so the Train can take care of you.” 

________

The fact that useless friend of yours ambushed him like that told Haechan that you probably felt his scent everywhere as well.

And you must have spoken about it in such a way that made Mark investigate.

It made Haechan’s fingers tingle and they’d tingle ever more when he’d slid them underneath his covers at night, and fuck his fist to the image of you until he had to push his face into the pillow to muffle his groans. 

Everything was a mess and for the first time in his life Haechan didn’t know what to do. 

The letter he wrote his grandpa asking for advice was still unsent, looking at him from his desk.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to expose himself like that to his family. His grandpa would be nothing but supportive.

I knew you’d find a partner. See, now you understand it. It makes sense how your parents felt, doesn’t it?

Because no. Haechan didn’t understand it and his parents’ behaviour still didn’t make sense to him. Also, he hated to hear others say I told you so. 

But also, his family never mentioned the possibility of a full-on soulmate. They said someone random. Someone that couldn’t find anyone else. Someone who would accept Haechan as a second choice. 

He rolled in bed, the stickiness of his desire still coating his hand. Then he huffed and got up to wash.

His desire. It was such a foreign feeling to him to leave him breathless.

Yet it felt so familiar that he felt like he could finally breathe deeply. It felt like things were finally right, like he was finally home. 

That morning he didn’t follow with his duties thoroughly as usual. The Train stopped twice and he looked behind his shoulder to check whether you were there, in your skimpy underdress and nude feet.

But you weren’t. 

He tried to ignore you for the past few days and apparently you were doing the same. 

Yet, he could feel your scent in the whole Train, as if you’ve just left the wagon he entered.

He wondered if you felt him everywhere as well. 

In the afternoon, he couldn’t take it anymore so he followed the trail. He would just give you a short look, something to further fuel his autodestructive night fantasies. 

You were in the Seaside car, as usual, your dress ridden up your thighs on that chaise longue and Haechan wondered how could Mark concentrate on cutting that apple without cutting his finger when you looked like that besides him. 

“I know this is not good friend advice, but you could get your mind off of him by, you know, using someone else,” Mark shrugged. 

Haechan stopped in place. He wasn’t eavesdropping. You were talking loudly enough for everyone to hear. But he didn’t want you to sense him.

You wanted to get your mind off of whom? Haechan?

“You know what? Maybe you’re right,” you replied and Haechan tightened his fist in his white glove. The image of you sleeping with someone else suddenly appeared in front of Haechan’s irises made the seaside car look like the north pole instead. 

“You finally gave in my temptation?” that useless fellow asked and Haechan has never wanted to have a fist fight with a passenger more.

Of course, he wondered already if Mark was your soulmate and you both dumb idiots didn’t notice.

Maybe that’s why Mark even inquired about scents in the first place.

But why was Haechan sensing your scent if you were taken and why did the Train not stop for you two if that was the case?

Could the Conductors curse be that cruel? Making Haechan fall in love with a woman he could not have?

“I can introduce you to some fine gentlemen,” Mark said and Haechan didn’t know if he should feel relieved Mark wasn’t offering himself for your entertainment or be jealous at the idea of someone else touching you. 

He decided to intervene. 

“I do. But I’m not sure if fucking random men is what I consider peak of amusement,” you replied right when Mark lifted his gaze and a piece of apple fell from his mouth on the fine sand at his feet.

Haechan gave him a venomous look and opened his mouth to interrupt your scandalous monologue. 

But you went on. “Although, I noticed that the light brow hair man is not bad. I think his name is Jaehyun. He has nice hands and a great smile. I do enjoy a good dimple.” 

Haechan felt his jaw muscles twitch. “The other J name man is not bad either. He’s tall and he looks gentle like a puppy,” you continued. 

Mark had the decency to look scared. 

“I apologize, Miss. I didn’t want to interrupt your lovely monologue,” Haechan finally said as you finally realized what was going on. 

He came there like a thirsty man to have a single drop of water and you were thinking of sleeping with other men instead.

Haechan felt like stopping the Train and descending himself. 

Your eyes were glossy when you looked up at him, maybe from the sun but also from the embarrassment.

Haechan felt like making you feel even worse. 

________

Your gaze followed the Conductor’s spine as he exited the wagon and you let a single pained whine as you burrowed your face into your palms. 

“Mark Lee.” 

The poor Mark got up and away from you as if he could sense you might take your frustration out on him. 

“It’s not my fault.” 

You let your hands fall in your lap. “Now he thinks I’m a whore.” 

“I don’t think that changes anything. You don’t need his opinion or approval.” 

You got up with another whine. “He ignored me for days and now that he approached me again he overheard me talk about who of your friends I might fuck.” 

Mark finished his apple. “Hey. Wasn’t that your intention? Getting rid of him? Forgetting him?” 

You exhaled.

Yes, but why did it feel so bad?

_______

They all eyed you the following night - the first ball party of the season, the little card said.

This time the ink didn’t smudge when it appeared on your nightstand out of thin air and it didn’t look like it was written by hand.

One detail made you bite your lower lip. Wear masks, the card said.

The car that was hosting it was huge and you realized it must have been some sort of optical illusion to make the space feel so big. The center was empty and you assumed it was for dancing. Most people were standing near the refreshment tables or near the walls and the exciting but nervous air made your skin shiver. Everyone from the train was there and you realized it was the perfect moment to meet a soulmate. 

With uncertain feet in your high heels you reached towards the drinks but the glasses didn’t move from the tray. 

“You need to say what you want and the glass unglues itself,” the Conductor said and his long fingers appeared in front of you. They wrapped the leg of a glass. “Champagne,” he said and the glass remained in his hand. 

You didn’t dare to look at him. “I didn’t know Conductors were allowed to drink,” you tried, remembering the time he felt the need to have that wiskey shot in the bar. 

“How do you know I am the Conductor?” he asked. His voice was low but light and amused. 

You turned around quickly to see a black mask, leaving nothing but an anonymous jawline and a pair of lips. His hair was covered by a silver crown and in his elegant suit no one could have noticed who he was.

But you did.

You cursed at yourself.

The Conductor leaned closer. “Is it because of my scent?” he whispered. 

You gulped and looked away towards the drinks tray. 

“So you admit it,” you murmured, wondering if someone was looking at you. 

“Admit what?” he asked. 

The crowd of people cheered and you assumed a new couple formed.

The intermission helped you cool your head. 

“I don’t know the names of all the drinks,” you changed subject. 

The Conductor didn’t seem surprised. “Which one do you want?”

“I don’t know. The least dangerous looking one.” 

“Bubbles,” he ordered and then gave you the glass full of sparkly liquid. It smelled fruity. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

“Do you always go for the least dangerous looking thing?” he turned around and looked towards the hall.

Some brave couples started to dance and you enjoyed the way the ladies gowns flowed under the golden lights. 

“Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” he smiled once before taking a sip of his drink. 

“Yes,” you took a sip of your bubbles as well. They buzzed on your tongue. 

“So you didn’t avoid me because you were afraid of me the past few days.” 

It wasn’t a question.

“You knew where to find me if you wanted to see one of your passengers. This is your Train.” 

The Conductor let his gaze fall on your face. “I did find you. You were talking about very interesting arguments.”

You gimaced, thinking of the Seaside Wagon incident. “It was just talk. I did not-” you started to explain the you realized how stupid it sounded trying to justify your actions, or non-actions, to him. 

The Conductor sipped from his drink in silence. You couldn’t read his face normally, and with that mask you really had no idea what he was thinking. 

“Are you upset I didn’t contact you all of these days?” he asked instead. "It was my understanding you were trying to forget someone by engaging in those actions and I am self centred enough to think that someone was me."

His honesty left you breathless. You considered lying. Admitting it would have been too humiliating. “No. I understand why you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 

“Which is?” 

“I look like a crazy woman who claims you’re her soulmate because you smell like flowers,” you blurted out before realizing what you just said.

Your hands in your white lacey gloves started to shake. 

The man remained quiet for a moment then he chuckled. “Really? I smell that nice to you?” 

You exhaled. “This is not a laughing matter.”

The Conductor analyzed your expression. “I apologize. I didn’t realize how this made you feel.” 

His tone gave you the courage to look him in the eyes. Even behind the mask they looked alive, torbid like the dark deep sea. 

But looking was a mistake. 

“I suppose it’s something common for you,” you inhaled, starting to hate the everlasting flowers perfume surrounding him. “Women with soulmate claims over you, that is,” you explained. 

The Conductor looked in front of himself and took another sip. “Yes. I am a charming man afterall.” 

You hated him. Was he punishing you? Or did he actually not care about you at all?

“Well, I avoided you because I wanted to say I had no claims. Take this as a compliment on you smelling decently and let’s move on.” 

“And what moving on means for you?” he inquired. 

“Acting as normal Train Conductor and Passenger,” you took another sip of your bubbles. It started to taste too sour. 

“Tonight many couples will make the Train stop,” he announced. “Would you like to see?” 

You turned towards him and you locked eyes. “Does that sound like normal Conductor and Passenger behaviour to you?” 

The young man laughed at your scolding. “I just know you’re curious.” 

“Why would you be kind to me like that? Do you want to push me out of the Train as you’ve expressed your interests towards doing before?” 

“I wouldn’t mind getting rid of you actually,” he joked and you could tell he didn’t mean it.

But the tears that secretly collected in your eyes during that conversation were close to falling to your cheeks. You left his side quickly but not before hearing him call out your name. 

________

Y/N. 

For some reason you thought he didn’t even know the names of every passenger.

Was that normal behaviour? From Miss to nothing to your actual first name. 

He pissed you off. 

He pissed you off so badly that the tears streaming down your cheeks were tears of anger, you decided. 

“Oh heavens. Are you alright, dear?” a young woman stopped in tracks with her man. 

“Yes, thank you, Miss,” you bowed a little holding your skirts. You wanted to get out of that car.

No. You wanted to get out of the damn Train. 

Was it normal for love to hurt like that? Was all of that even love? 

You had no idea afterall.

Everyone said you would just know and everything would fall into place. You’d have the best experience and make the Train stop to settle down with the love of your life. Then why all of those people felt like nothing around you and the only man your heart ached for you couldn’t have? 

“Hey hey hey,” Mark stopped you by putting his hands on your shoulders. 

You were barely seeing where you were walking. 

“What happened?” he asked. “Did you see him?” 

Bless Mark and his everknowing third eye. 

You gave him a little nod and he pouted his lips, holding you into his arms. “There there. It’s alright. It’s okay.” 

The people walking around you gave you some looks as they tried to reach the ball hall but you didn’t care. 

“Mark, can you be my soulmate so we can go home and live together in a cottage?” you joked, your voice was muffled against his shoulder and you heard him chuckle.

“Actually-” he trailed off and you let him go, rubbing your eyes and finally eying the person on his side who was patiently waiting for you to calm down. 

“I want to introduce you to my-” he added then interrupted himself again, looking at the smiling person with eyes you’ve never saw him have. “-the love of my life,” he finished. 

________

Your coach felt like the safest place on earth and your cell at the same time. 

After the congratulatory moments and after starting to cry again because you realized how happy you were for your best friend to have found the person he was going to spend his life with, the sad tears came along again as you realized that he was probably going to leave the Train that same evening. 

We’ll come visiting often. Afterall I’m leaving my parents and friends behind as well and I want to see them again, he assured you. 

You sighed and sat down on your bed.

The reflection the mirror in the corner gave you back made you jolt a bit. You cleaned the running mascara from your cheeks and laid down waiting for the Train to stop, trying to empty your brain.

The Conductor’s voice echoing in your head couldn’t let you fall asleep. Why was he behaving like that? Was he that cruel? Couldn’t he actual see what was going on? 

When the Train’s rumbling stopped and you heard the chatter of some couples walking down the corridor you sat back up and opened the coach’s door. 

Mark squeezed you in a tight hug then gave you a thumbs up as he passed in front of you with his luggage and, after some other people, you saw the Conductor closing the line.

He stopped in front of your door and opened his mouth as you locked eyes but then he probaby changed his mind because he closed it soon after in a tight line and followed the rest of the people. 

You remained quiet behind his back and none of the passengers looked like minding having another spectator, so deeply lost in their partner’s eyes. 

“Thank you for traveling with us. I wish you happiness,” the Conductor said, repeating the same phrase you heard him say that first time you witnessed a passengers descent. 

Mark lifted his hand to wave and you exhaled, waving back, feeling tears prick your eyes as he turned around and walked towards the Station.

The Conductor remained there for the following moments and you somehow knew he did it for you. 

“He’ll do fine,” he said after a moment of quiet. 

“I know,” you simply replied. 

“Y/N,” he turned around and you inhaled taking a step back. 

“Don’t call me by my name. We’re not on those terms.” 

The Conductor hesitated but then he took a step inside and the doors closed behind him.

Your gaze was on his shiny shoes so he hunched his back a little to make you look at his face instead. 

The cry and the other events calmed you down by now but seeing his face made all of those feelings resurface.

You forced yourself to look at his eyes the way he cleary wanted you to. 

“My name is Haechan,” he murmured straightening his back. “Would that make us be on those terms now?” 

Your fingers fidgeted at the sound of his name and your lips fought the urge to say it out loud. 

“Why?” you asked instead. “Why are you being mean to me?”

“I’m not trying to be mean,” he got closer to you and you took a few steps back again. 

“I don’t want to be close to you. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to be on first name terms with you. I wish for you to leave me alone if you don’t want anything to do with me.”

Haechan kept moving forward as you moved back until you hit the wall with your blades. He got as close as to rest his palms near your head on the wooden wall.

And when he leaned in and rubbed your cheek with the tip of his nose you forgot how to breathe. 

“You smell like fresh cotton and linen,” he whispered with the most desperate tone you heard a man speak. It was so tender that it clouded your mind. “It engulfed me the same instant I opened the doors that night. You’re not insane, I feel it too.” 

He straightened his back and looked you in the eyes. “The soulmate bond,” he added. “This is why you’re irritable when you’re away from me. This is why no one seems interesting to you, why this Journey feels boring. It’s not because you haven’t met the one yet. It’s because you have.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“And? What now?” you didn’t let his sweet words sway you although all you wanted was for him to wrap his arms around you and press those pillowy lips on yours. 

“The truth is I am as lost as you are,” he let his arms fall to his sides. “This is not supposed to happen.” 

“I figured.” 

“I come from the Conductors family,” he started. “Traditionally we do not have soulmates. Our people-” he stopped, as if unsure of how to explain. “-breed by choosing random people they want to be with. Sometimes the couples stay together. Sometimes they don’t if the person who’s not from this family actually meets their rightful soulmate.” 

“Do you know of anyone who separated that way?” you asked although from his eyes you could tell that he did. 

“My parents.” 

You bit your lower lip. “I am sorry,” you wrapped your nudes arms. 

“Are you cold?” he asked but you cut him off seeing his hands going to unbutton his outwear. 

“Don’t you dare giving me your jacket,” you warned him. “It-” you stopped suddenly very embarrassed. “-was a lot to handle the first time,” you settled for, as drove me insane felt too much. 

“I know,” he looked as nervous and for a moment it made you feel better. You also never realized how young he was. He was probably just around your age. “It made me feel a certain well, too,” he added. 

You looked behind him and you realized your coach was just around the corner. Haechan let you walk around him and open the door, grabbing a shawl to put around your shoulders. 

“Come inside. It’s warmer here,” you let your head peek around the corner. 

Haechan felt too big for your coach, you realized, seeing him sitting on the deep dark chairs.

As if knowing to not give you any kind of temptation, there was no bed inside.

You made a mental note to ask Haechan how did the Train knew such stuff. 

“I am as unprepared as you are,” he spoke after a while, resuming his discourse. 

You knew that conversation was due to happen but it didn’t make you feel less nervous. 

“My grandfather never mentioned something like this happen to me. He just assumed I might end up seeing someone with no soulmate. My grandmother was one of them and they haven’t separated. Although now I wonder if she met someone else and actively chose my grandfather instead because of some kind of principle sentiment.” 

All of that raw information made your heart ache. You’ve never thought about the Conductor’s family growing up. You’ve never ever heard of people with no soulmate whatsoever. 

“Would that be that bad?” you asked in a tiny voice. 

His eyes were fiery when he looked at you but you knew he wasn’t mad at you. “Would you enjoy the thought of someone being with you because they feel sorry or because of a promise they made although they’re madly in love with someone else?”

You gulped and looked down at your hands in your lap. 

“You think that would be our situation?” 

The man didn’t reply. You took it for a yes. 

“Or are you afraid I’d leave you after a while? Because you think you’re not my actual soulmate?” 

“I don’t know,” he exhaled. “You’d think for a Conductor of the Soulmates Train I’d be more well versed in these heart affairs,” he chuckled bitterly. 

He closed his eyes and you felt brave enough to stare at his face. You’ve never had the opportunity to see his features for that long. He was so gorgeous that your heart felt like bleeding and the thought of you meeting someone else that would make you feel more than that that felt inimaginable. The thought of him with some other woman felt even worse. 

“If I can’t have you-” you started unable to keep your mouth shut. “I think I’ll just not have anyone else. I can’t even imagine-”

The man smiled and opened his eyes. They were the same deep blue that made you feel like suffocating the first time you saw them. “I am flattered you think this way now.” 

“I’m not going to change my mind.” 

“I love a challenge.” 

He was pissing you off. You told him just that. 

His laugh was so pristine that you felt a little smile bloom on your face as well. 

“Then what? I’ll just finish this Journey and go home? Then I’ll see you next year? Does this make sense to you?” you tried to reason. 

His story was so sad that it made your heart bleed but the relief that washed over you felt so good that it was making you dizzy. He was into you too. He could sense your scent too. He desired you too. You would not let him go away. 

“Sounds good,” he replied with a tiny breathy voice. 

You rolled your eyes. “No, it doesn’t.” 

“Then what? You wish to stay here with me? Forever? On the Train?” he asked instead. 

You bit your lower lip. “Where do you stay when it’s not Soulmates season?” 

Haechan sat lower on the chair and his extended and spread legs made you curse at yourself for finding that attractive. “I live on the Train. Always had.” 

“You just stay here alone? The whole year?” you leaned in surprised. 

The man shrugged. “I had my Grandpa before. It wasn’t that bad. And I don’t know another world besides this one so I don’t miss it.”

“Where is he now?”

Haechan looked towards the window as if actually seeing what was behind that curtain. He probably knew what was behind it, you realized. 

“He’s living with my mother. He couldn’t work anymore as he was too old.” 

You leaned back in your chair as well and lifted your legs to rest them near him.

Haechan turned his head towards them and lifted one hand, letting his fingers trail the arch of one of them making you twitch. 

He looked at your surprised expression and his eyelashes were heavy on his eyes. 

Then he inserted two fingers between the hem of one of his white gloves and took it off, letting it fall to the ground. Then he did the same with his other hand. 

You couldn’t speak.

No, you couldn’t think. 

His fingers were slender and his touch was warm as he caressed your arch again, this time making you fully shiver. Seeing his bare hands shouldn’t have made you feel that way. 

“Haechan,” you murmured, maybe as a warning, or maybe because you simply wanted to say his name. 

“Y/N,” he said back, taking your feet and placing them on top of one of his thighs. He then looked down at them, slowly touching your ankles too, going up as much as he could reach which was too much for your dizzy head giving the crampness of the coach. You could have sworn it wasn’t so small before. 

You hummed as he reached your knee, letting your skirts fall to your thighs in the movement. And when he reached the clasps of your garter keeping the tights up you jolted. 

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” your voice wavered. 

“I know,” he breathed out, yet his hands didn’t move away and you didn’t push them away either. 

They kept going up, over your skirts this time until reaching the back of your corset which was starting to feel way too tight. 

Haechan slowly slid down between your legs, on his knees, as if guided by a string coming from inside of you. The view made you mewl and the thought of doing this with anyone besides him sounded abhorrent in that moment.

The first pull made you inhale and put your hands on his shoulders. They felt firm. 

The second pull at your corset made you bite your lower lip and Haechan’s pupils darted to it. 

“Haechan,” you called out again, this time softly, like a prayer. 

“Yes, darling,” he leaned even closer to you, attentive to your expression and reactions. 

The pet name knocked the air out of your lungs.

“If-” you swallowed thickly, “if we have to separate-, please, I want-” 

Haechan patiently waited for more. His eyes, his fucking eyes, they were so deep, and his lips, so so close to you. You could have just leaned forward and tasted them. 

You felt like going insane. 

“Remember when you said that you’d-” you changed the route of the phrase thinking it would be easier but you stopped again.

Haechan exhaled and pulled another string from your corset. “What is it that you want?” 

“I want you to be my first.”

________

Something inside Haechan’s brain was screaming that it was all a mistake, that he was doing something he shouldn’t have.

But Haechan has been a very good boy his whole life while everyone around him made mistakes with not a single worry in the world. Warm between your legs he didn’t care if he’ll regret it. 

But hearing you he stopped, inches away from your mouth. Your heavy breath was matching his and your cleaveage still tightly restricted in that corset made him wonder if you could feel how hard he was against the heavy skirts of your dress. 

“I need to hear you ask me again, explicitly, and I need to hear you say that you’re aware this might be a mistake and you might regret it,” he grunted. 

You fanned your lashes at him with that pure expression of yours. 

“I want you to make me yours and I am aware of all of the consequences,” you murmured. 

Your tone and the polite choice of words made him want to scream. 

“Please,” you added and Haechan couldn’t take it anymore.

He leaned towards you and grabbed your chin with one hand, tasting the tender skin of your neck instead of your lips. 

You exhaled and trembled against him, your pulse beating so fast underneath his tongue that he wondered how plump and wet you were between your legs. 

So soft and malleable in his arms you let him gently push you into the bed that materialized underneath you. 

________

The Conductor’s eyes were so deep that they looked almost black. His body felt so good on top of yours that you wondered if he could let his weight down even more to fully engulf you with his presence.

You couldn’t imagine feeling such intensity with someone else. He didn’t trust you with your feelings but the moment his lips pressed on yours you were sure he had to be your soulmate or nothing in life would have made sense. 

And when you finally slid your hands in his hair you found it was as soft as you imagined.

His wet velvety tongue on your throat made you mewl in ways you’ve never heard yourself sound before.

Then he kissed your boiling skin on your clavicle and when he reached the swell of your breasts you felt on fire. 

“Hng,” you whimpered, feeling his warm and wide palms press on your waist and slide underneath until he pulled up to sit. He never stopped kissing your body, not even when he pulled harshly at the corset strings to finally undo it. 

You gasped at the sudden freeing sensation and shyly let your arms up for him to drag it up and let it fall to the side. 

He cupped your free breasts soon after under the thinner dress material and you threw your head back. 

Not in a million years you would regret that. It wasn’t possible. 

And when your back hit the mattress again Haechan finally kissed you, slowly, brushing your lips together first, then delicately taking your upper lip between his, letting you taste his bottom one. Your fingers deepened the pressure on his shoulders the same moment you felt his tongue nudge at your mouth. You opened further and timidly let yours meet his. It tingled all over your body and when he slid it fully inside your mouth you moaned.

You couldn’t breathe nor think. You couldn’t even move. 

Was this the love everyone was talking about? Because you were starting to understand. 

In that moment it didn’t matter what you two would end up doing. The only thing you could concentrate on was the ardent kiss and his hands on your arms, reaching up to slid the dress straps off your shoulders.

Then he touched the spot with his lips and you finally gasped, taking in as much air as you could, extending your neck in the opposite direction, giving him more space to fully drive you crazy. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured against your skin as you twitched ever so slightly. Your breast was almost bare and the thought of him seeing you as no one had before made your nipples poke the dress fabric until it hurt. 

“Tell me to stop anytime and I will,” he added. 

“I don’t want you to stop. Please,” you found yourself saying. 

________

You were so warm. You were warm and soft and Haechan desired you so much that he had to bite his lower lip almost to blood to prevent himself from devouring you completely.

Insane, he thought, you were insane to ask him to fuck you like that, and he was also insane for going with it.

His cock was so hard that it was painful and he imagined you felt the same, so he leaned down and wet your hard nubs making you gasp so deliciously that he made a mental note to do it often.

The thoughts of that being your first time together but maybe also the last was banging into his brain but he decided to ignore it. Your little sounds were grounding him and the way your breast felt underneath his hands, overflowing between his fingers as he squeezed just added to his brain haze. 

He was starting to feel feverish and if he didn’t ended up with his mouth between your legs soon he thought he was going to go insane.

Your hands on his shoulders made shivers go down his spine and when they moved to his hair, he hummed with your nipples against his tongue. 

He wanted to make you feel good, he wanted to make you feel so fucking good.

And he told you, murmuring it on top of your skin, sliding down your torso and letting your scent and warmth guide his clouded brain. 

Haechan took your dress with him and when he couldn’t take it anymore he lifted himself on his knees and dragged it up your legs, throwing it as far as he could.

Your chest was falling and dropping so fast underneath him and he took a moment to enjoy the view, letting his gaze caress you where his hand was, slowly from your ribcage down your navel until reaching the slit between your legs. 

You gasped, the little O on your face making his almost growl. 

“Have you ever touched yourself before, darling?” he asked with a voice he barely recognized. 

You shivered and he leaned back down to shelter you with his body, his hand still lazily drawing circles around your plump and soaked clit. 

__________

You tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck but he was quicker.

You couldn’t believe you were completely naked in front of the man you desired so desperately. Was that the cruel joke of the destiny? Giving you all before taking it away from you?

Haechan kissed your lips, this time deeply and rougher than the first. Then he breathed on them. “Answer me,” he demanded. 

You melwed, unable to think. His fingertips were so delicate and gentle that they almost weren’t there, yet you felt them so well that you couldn’t concentrate on anything else. 

“Only outside,” you admitted. 

Haechan rubbed his nose against your cheek. “I thought you were a curious person. You never felt the need to know how it feels inside?” 

You swallowed thickly. Not in your most depraved thoughts you imagined a gentleman talk to you like that. And you loved it. 

“I was afraid,” you admitted. 

Haechan hummed, kissing slowly alongside your neck then licking your ear. “You’re so sensitive. Were you afraid it was going to hurt?”

You nodded as a reply. 

“Are you afraid now?” he looked you in the eyes, his fingertips never stopping for a moment. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Haechan’s wet lips were open as if to let more air get inside his lungs and the thought of you being the cause to that decadent expression made the wetness between your legs just get worse.

You bit your lower lip, wondering if he noticed and when he dropped his hand by a mere centimeter you could feel his finger nudge at your hole and collect every drop of it. 

You closed your eyes in embarrassment, clasping the material of his shirt on his bicep, and it just made Haechan more eager to rub your clit in ways you never even thought of. 

“Show me,” he said, his voice so thick and rough that you felt like swimming in it. “Show me how you touched yourself.” 

“Please,” you begged unsure yourself for what. 

“Don’t be shy. Put your hand on top of mine and guide me, love,” he murmured with a twinkle in his eyes that made your insides burn. 

You let one of your hands slide down his arm and you reached the back of his hand between your legs. It felt so erotic that you felt like combusting. 

“Yes, just like that,” he prompted you, his lips now back on your chest, gently biting the softness of your flesh. 

You gulped and pressed your fingers on top of his, moving them in little circles you knew felt good. Haechan hummed. “Yeah? Do you like it like this?” 

The little nod you gave him made him smile. Then it turned into something more ferocious. 

“What about this?” he changed the movement, his fingers now gently flicking your nub up and down as well, pressing a bit more that you did it yourself, sending jolts of pleasure across your body. 

“Yes,” you stuttered. 

“Yeah?” he spoke in the crook of your neck. “Did you make yourself cum as well?” 

You threw your head back at the sensation and his tone and his words didn’t help you feel grounded at all. “A few times.” 

Or at least you thought you did. Because the way Haechan was making you feel didn’t even come close to the way you managed to make yourself feel alone. 

“May I?” his words buzzed against your lips, so polite in contrast with the way his fingertip felt like nudging at your core. 

You bit your lower lip and Haechan rubbed his lips on you as a in invitation to bite his lip instead. You inhaled and nodded, pressing your hand on top of his.

He sucked the air between his teeth and kissed you deeply, letting his tongue smack against yours in the wettest and most desperate kiss. 

And when you felt his finger slide inside of you it felt so overwhelming that you clenched so hard he had to break off the kiss to shush you. “You need to relax for me, baby, yeah?” 

You felt your whole body shake and Haechan kissed the corner of your mouth then your cheek, doing on your jaw and neck.

“It’s going to feel very good, I promise,” he murmured against your clavicle. “That’s right,” he exhaled, feeling your melt in his hold. “My sweet sweet girl, just like that.” 

The praise went to your head so badly that you almost didn’t realize the way he managed to move inside and out of you slowly and when he reached a specific spot and curled his finger upwards you jolted in place, grabbing his shoulders with a strong grip, the moan that escaped your throat probably loud enough to wake up the neighbouring passengers. 

“You like that, darling?” Haechan kept fucking you on his finger until you couldn’t close your mouth, the sensation sending the most intense jolts of electricity up your legs and torso. 

“Fuck,” you exhaled and Haechan chuckled. 

“Yeah? My lady became this dirty for me?” 

“Shit,” you couldn’t stop yourself. “Oh, heavens.” 

The wet sounds and Haechan’s quick breaths made you curl your toes, and when he stopped his hand and you felt his finger exit you mewled a protest. 

“More, please?”

Haechan gave you a cocky smile, lifting himself on his knees in front of you and letting you stare at the way he took off his jacket then slowly, so fucking slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt.

His pristine skin peeking underneath the white fabric made your mouth water and you had to sit down as well, leaning in and pressing your lips on his chest. 

________

Haechan exhaled and cupped the back of your head and when he felt your delicate fingers open the rest of his buttons he thought he’d cum on the spot. 

Your touch was heaven on his chest and your lips started to get too low, very low, down his abdomen until reaching the band of his dress pants.

Your ass was full on display the way your were crouching on all fours and when you lifted your gaze up, your mouth so close to the tip of his clothed cock, he reached and gave you a light spank that made your eyes shine and your tender throat mewl. 

He desperately wanted his cock down that throat but he knew it would be insanity. 

So he grabbed your chin instead and pulled you upwards to kiss your mouth again, and this time when he pushed you into the mattress he didn’t care to be gentle.

The grunt that left your chest made him worried that he had been too harsh but the way your grabbed his hair and pulled him into the kiss again, wrapping your thighs around his waist told him you weren’t a porcelain doll. 

And when he left your gasping mouth to devour your cunt the moan you made and the way your body curved almost broke him. 

“Haechan,” you called out and he has never heard someone pronounce his name in a sexier way. 

He hummed back, deeply, licking a stripe up from your hole to your clit and resting on it heavily before rolling the tip around it, tasting you, flicking it until he felt your nails dig in the forearm he snaked around one of your thighs.

He pressed his palm on your lower stomach and the way you inhaled deeply made him suck ever more. 

________

Legs around his head - the Conductor’s head - and his mouth on you, his arms around your limbs and his scent all over your body, you’ve never felt more ready to die. 

“God,” you moaned, shaking in his hold so much that he added more pressure on your hips and when you felt his fingers nudging at your hole again, this time two of them, gently pushing past the rim, you grabbed the sheets underneath your until you had no more strength.

“Please please please,” you mumbled, his fingers hooked in so deliciously that you couldn’t see anymore. You had no idea there was such pleasure out there. 

Haechan hummed, almost growled, his mouth full of your and his deep blue eyes staring at you with such intensity that you just had to let go or you would go insane. 

“I feel-” you tried, your voice rough. 

The man let your clit go for a mere second. “Yeah? Come on, cum for me darling. Come on, my love.” 

It was like a switch, his tongue back on you and his fingers stretching you so well that you could only bury your had in the pillow and scream, coming undone until the only thing you could hear was your own breaths and the gentle rumbling of the Train underneath you. 

Haechan’s little kisses made your shaking thighs relax and you realized you were clasping his wrist so you let go with trembling fingers. 

“My good good girl,” he came towards you, peppering kisses all over your body, his fingers still deep inside of you, feeling the way you kept rhythmically clenching around them. 

His lips were wet and red when he reached your mouth.

You exchanged a deep look that made all the hairs on your body rise and when he kissed you slowly and you tasted yourself on his tongue you felt like pouty in his arms. 

“I want to make you feel good too,” you whispered against his lips. 

Haechan hummed and slid his fingers out, making you hiss. Then with his wet hand he grabbed yours gently and directed it towards his pants. 

“Open the buttons,” he ordered and you gulped, sliding your second arm between your bodies and obeyed, opening them one by one and feeling the heat coming from his body. 

“Now touch me,” he breathed against your temple and you felt like rolling your eyes back from the sheer intensity of that energy. 

You looked up and saw the man of your life close his eyes and furrow his eyebrows almost in pain when you caressed his length from tip until base. 

“Fuck,” he gulped. “Harder,” his order made you bit your lower lip and you added a second hand, grabbing it loosely and moving them both up and down. 

Haechan wrapped your hands with his and you inhaled shakily at the darkness of his eyes. He guided you, making you squeeze more until his breath went missing. 

“Like this?” you asked. He was hot and hard but so velvety that you were afraid to hurt him. 

“Just like that, darling,” he reassured you and when you felt the drops of something sliding under your palm Haechan’s jaw clenched. “You’re making me feel so fucking good, good heavens Y/N.” 

You picked up the pace, loving his sounds and his expressions and he groaned.

You wanted more. You needed more.

“Please, I need you,” you murmured against his cheek. 

Haechan leaned in and bit down on your neck, sucking on your skin and the sting felt so good that you felt your cunt pool up again. “Say that again, darling.” 

You exhaled. “I need you, Haechan, please.” 

“Where?” he breathed on your open mouth. 

“Inside of me,” you choked on air as he reached down and slid his cock out of your hands with a wince, letting it rest between your fold instead. 

“Yeah?”

You nodded and gasped, feeling the heaviness on if rub against your sensitivity. 

“I need you to stop me at any given moment of discomfort. Do you understand me?” 

His tone and demeanor made you almost chuckle. He drove you crazy. 

“Yes, sir,” you whispered and Haechan put his tongue inside his cheek at your choice of words. 

He intertwined his fingers with yours while the other hand held the base of his cock to align himself with you.

It was so big and thick, two veins running down it similar to his forearms and it made you swallow dryly at the sinful thought that came inside of your head. 

But you felt drunk and you didn’t care.

“I want it in my mouth,” you locked eyes with him and Haechan visibly crumbled between your legs. 

“You’ll be the death of me,” he inhaled sharply through his teeth and pushed inside of you slowly making you gasp and squeeze his fingers. 

“Mmmm,” you furrowed your eyebrows and Haechan stopped, leaning down to shush you, kissing your neck and guiding your breaths until you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him forward. 

“Does it hurt?” he murmured, moving his hips ever so slightly, making more and more space for himself. 

“It stings, outside, but it feels good, inside,” your phrases were broken and Haechan chuckled against your lips, giving you a quick kiss that you couldn’t concentrate on as he was getting closer and closer to the spot you oh so desperately wanted him to reach. 

“It’s going to feel better soon,” he reassured. 

“I know. How does- it feel-for-you?” your tiny voice, stuttering because of his shallow thrusts made Haechan dig his other hand in the mattress. 

“It feels like heaven, my darling.” 

You hummed and then gasped as Haechan felt you open even more, swallowing him so well that he had to compose himself before he could start losing it and ram inside of you. 

“Does the thought of me feeling good turn you on, love?” he grabbed your waist, keeping you in place and finally bottoming out. 

Your face scrunched and the moan you let out sounded like music to his ears. 

“Haechan-” 

“Yeah?” 

_______

Your breath was so irregular that you felt not enough oxygen getting to your brain.

There were no words to describe how he felt inside of you, intoxicating, sinful, full, so fucking full, he was all over you, inside your body and mind and heart, you wanted him more and more, you wanted him forever. 

You stared at him between your lashes and you hoped he could see all of that. You hoped he could understand how he made you feel and you hoped he felt the same. 

“I know, baby,” he shushed you, his hips picked up the pace and he was heavy and deep, the sound of his skin slapping yours making you hide your face into the crook of his neck in shame. He let you do that and lifted your hand above your head, pushing into it as much as he wanted to push into you and couldn’t for fear of hurting you. 

Your brain went to the image of him fucking you desperatly and animalistically, fast and with no worry.

You desperately wanted that.

You wanted him again. That couldn’t be the last time you saw each other.

No way. 

“Haechan, kiss me, please,” you managed to speak between the gasps. 

The man leaned down and kissed you deeply, fucking you both with his tongue and his cock, until you moaned into his mouth. 

His eyes were feverish and his forehead shining with a thin layer of sweat.

You let his hand go to wrap his neck and dig your hands in his soft messy hair, not breaking eye contact until with no words you both orgasmed and you lulled each other’s shaking bodies to sleep. 

---will continue---

[loserboysandlithium]

x boyfriend thoughts PLEASE

*I’m tipsy. This might not look pretty.* 18+ hoes

Ex boyfriend Eddie knows that every other Sunday you’re forced to attend church with your Grandma. You’ve been avoiding him for weeks. Ignoring his calls. Turning him away every time he popped up at your window.

You shift in your seat on the wooden pew staring ahead as the choir sings until you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look down to see the familiar rings glinting beneath the lights. Shit.

Within minutes you’re on your knees in the church bathroom choking on Eddie’s thick cock as his head falls back against the wall. “Oh god, oh my fucking god.” he pants breathlessly as you look up at him through your lashes.

You take him deep in your throat as you watch him carefully, taking in every single movement he makes. His brown lashes fluttering, the small bite of his lip before his jaw falls slack, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The fucker even threw on a red button up shirt and fuck he looked good.

“Just like that, baby. You’re such a little slut. My pretty little slut.” he grunts as his hand moves to your head, pressing down, making you gag on his cock even more.

“Didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart. But fuck you look pretty when you do.” he chuckles before bucking his hips just a bit, really starting to fuck your throat, making your tears fall even faster as you splutter around his member.

“How long are we gonna do this, baby? J-just come back to me. You know you want to. You know you can’t fucking stay away.” he taunts, his brown eyes almost black as they stare down at you. You glare back at him as you bring your hands to his thighs digging your nails deep into his skin.

Your attempt at causing him a little pain simply sends him over the edge as his cock twitches, his warm cum spraying down your throat. “F-fuck, shit baby.” he groans as he fills your mouth with his release. You stand up, wiping the excess cum from your mouth, a small smirk playing on your lips.

You spin on your heels and leave the bathroom without another word to him, leaving him standing there with wide eyes, his chest heaving violently as he hurries to pull up his slacks.

Okay byeeeee

[saturnville]

stolen moments, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan x black fem oc (amelia mae egan)

content: john manages to call amelia after not hearing her voice for weeks.

an: this was the top choice in the poll so far. I've been anxious to write so we knocked this off the list first lol. enjoy!

“Are you alright, Major?” 

They’d just arrived at a new station. It smelled like sweat and fear. Men streamed throught the doors like a school of fish. Their deep voices shook the brick walls as their conversations bellowed throughout the building. Dozens of men struggled to keep their composure. He was one of them.

He was overwhelmed. Tired. Desparate. His clothes felt tight against his body. The scent of gasoline and fumes clung to his vest. His hat damp and chilled against his forehead. His shoes were coated in black soot.

John’s eyes caught the telephone in the corner of the station. It was secluded from the rest of the quarters, in a corner, protected by a frosted glass divider. John's shoes grazed the dirty floor as he strode purposefully towards the telephone.

“M’fine. Head in and get your rest. Long day in the morning.” He didn’t know how he was able to make out coherent sentences. Gale stepped in, noticing his friend’s disheveled state and guided the men to the resting quarters. 

John’s shoes kissed the dirty floor as he stood long strides to the telephone. He shrugged off his backpack and slid it by his feet. His hands trembled as he plucked the phone off the hook and typed in the number he had engraved in his heart. 

It rang. And rang. And rang. His heartbeat was in his ears. His nails scratched as the black paint around the phone as he succumbed to his anxiety. He sent a silent prayer to God above. 

Then he heard it. “Hello?” John’s forehead tapped the frosted glass as he rested against it. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He’d never been particularly sensitive, but he was overwhelmed with emotion, good and bad, and hearing her sweet voice made his eyes well with tears. 

The words were stuck in his throat and all he could release was a heavy sigh. That seemed to be enough for her to identify the caller. “Johnny?” 

He shut his eyes. A lone tear fell from his eye. “Hey, Rosie.”

Amelia let out a soft cry. “Oh, thank God! I-I thought something happened to you; I hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Are you okay, where are you now? Is Gale alright, when are you coming…” His first instinct was to cut her rambling short, but the sound of her voice was the choir-like song his soul ached to hear. 

He’d gone three weeks without hearing her voice. It was the most tortuous three weeks of his life. For 21 days, he survived by remembering the last words she said before they hung up, Whatever you do, do not die on me, do you understand? I love you, John. I love you. I love you. I love you. It kept his heart beating.

A small smile tugged on his lips. “I’m okay, baby, I promise. Things got a little rough; didn’t stay in one place too long. I didn’t mean to scare you.”  

“I’m just happy to hear your voice…are you okay?” 

His stomach churned at her question. A feeling of despair threatened to creep upon him. Thirty men lost. A plane in the middle of the ocean. An uneasy stomach and even more uneasy mental state. His head pounded, his body shook with unwanted adrenaline, and his hands craved the feeling of her hot skin. He was not okay. 

“No,” he replied honestly, rubbing his eye with the stump of his palm. “I’m not okay but I will be. Especially because I get to talk to my favorite girl. Tell me about your day..”

He heard her heavy sigh. “Deflection won’t rid you of what you’re feeling.” 

“Talking about it won’t do too much good, either. It’s…it’s hard, Rose. I just.” John’s jaw clenched as he struggled to articulate what he felt. “I just can’t talk about it right now, Amelia. If I do, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together.” 

Silence stretched on, interrupted only by the sound of her shuffling on the other end. She was probably sitting at the edge of her bed. He imagined her, looking pretty in her long-sleeved pajamas and satin scarf, with a blanket tucked under her chin.

“Then how about this,” she started. “You make it home in one piece to tell me about it later, yeah?” 

“Always making demands,” John laughed. The first genuine sound of joy he’d made all day. And it made her smile. So wide that her cheeks were sore and her dimples made an appearance. “But you’ve got a deal.” He readied himself to speak again, but a tap on his shoulder interrupted him. 

Gale. Meeting with the CO in five minutes, he mouthed. John nodded. He ran a hand through his dirty hair. “Darlin’, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes; I’m sorry.  If I don’t call in the morning, know I love you, alright?” 

“I know. I love you, too. Don’t apologize. Just make it back to me.”

“Always.”

[thewaysoundtravels]

(Deep Throat Choir - Ada by Bella Union)

Harmony, voices in chorous accompanied by minimal instrumentation.

Full album: https://deepthroatchoir.bandcamp.com/album/be-ok

[anxiousnightmare]

Fic about oc surprising Andrew in the crowd of a show and him seeing her and messing up lyrics❤️❤️❤️❤️

hi anon, thank you for being my first ask! love the idea, enjoy!!

Lost in your Eyes -a.h.b

pairing: andrew hozier-byrne x oc (no name mentioned tho)

word count: 438

warnings: none, fluff, one suggestive line at the end

While performing Andrew would often close his eyes or look down. When he talked to the crowd, his gaze would travel further and he would find himself absolutely amazed at even the mere thought of all these people listening intently to him speaking.

Today, however, as he sang, he felt the sheer volume of the voices humming in harmony. He could feel it deep down in his bones. It was the exact reason he liked choirs so much.

As he looked up, the crowd stretched out as far as his gaze could travel. All of them enjoying themselves, singing along with him. Not yelling too, they were properly singing with controlled voices.

For a moment he fell silent, only his fingers working nimbly at the guitar strings. The crowd continued for him and he nodded along, eyes sweeping across hundreds of faces. His gaze locked on one particular set of eyes and he felt his heart stutter.

She only grinned at him, delighted at having caught his attention. He couldn’t take his eyes off those eyes, her lips singing aloud words that, he suspected she knew he’d written for her. He was only barely aware of feeling the microphone beneath his lips as his voice picked up the words once more.

She had been staring at him throughout the concert like she did on mornings when they lay in bed, nestled together and not wanting to face the world just yet. And suddenly, as he looked at her lone face among hundreds, her lips stretched into a broad cheeky grin as she gestured at him.

With some difficulty, he managed to look back at Alex and the band as he realized he’d messed up the lyrics. He’d started singing the third verse when he was supposed to be singing the first. He cleared his throat and addressed the crowd, laughing it off.

He started over, eyes slipping to hers when he’d take pauses between verses. That smile, oh her smile. Every word he uttered next until the very end of the concert seemed to be for her and only her.

Later, when he found her backstage, she’d teased him incessantly about having forgotten the lyrics. All he could do was hug her close and tell her how much he’d missed her beautiful smile. They had laid tucked in bed together that night, sharing each other’s warmth.

Only three more concerts, he told himself more than her, then he’d have his love all to himself. She retorted back with something along the lines of him forgetting his words when he was beneath her. He’d blushed furiously and hadn’t responded.