#the first two were just to tide me over until this one
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danielnelsen · 1 year ago
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oh THANK GOD
there are only three quests you can use for an infinite rings exploit and the way they work is that you get rings in the text before the reward screen, so if you close the app after getting the rings but before the reward screen, it resets that part of the quest. the first one (know your friends, i think it’s called?) needs your mc so you can’t really progress the main storyline, and the second needs ezra, like so:
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he’s not required for any important quests until much later, but i’ve still got about 5 side quests sitting there that need him.
but the third one, do you know julian, DOESNT need any of the main characters. i forget if it needs any other classmates (i just know that i used it in my original game and it was sustainable), but ezra is FINALLY free!
#ok well not quite. i’ve gotta DO the quest first#but god what a relief. this is the PERMANENT ring exploit quest#the first two were just to tide me over until this one#hss#personal#oh that’s right the last req is ‘complete a party with julian’#now watch me get one of the questions wrong so i don’t get the reward#it also has infinite coins and books. all of them have coins but the ezra one doesn’t have books#so i’m starting to get low on them even after the hundreds of thousands i saved from the first quest#oh you have no idea how much of a relief this is i can finally relax#but things are picking up with hss:#i’ve decided i’m only gonna get one of each gender of classmate unless absolutely necessary (so far i’ve needed 3 jocks and that’s it)#and this week i finally got the skater girl i needed to progress the main quest#(with infinite rings i know i could just buy them but i’m committed to partying. rip ever getting a prom queen lmao)#i also unlocked kallie yesterday (and i understand why nobody ever talked about her. that took WAY TOO LONG)#(i bought pencils in my original game but the server’s shut down now. had to do it the slow way. it took MONTHS)#i feel like there’s something else i did that was significant…….#oh yeah just now (at the same time i unlocked this quest) i finished the party that officially gets me one of every classmate#of the types i can get that is. don’t have rebels yet rip#i should look up which classmate i’ll need two of next so i can start working on it#the rarer ones can take weeks (or months. but i don’t think i’ll need a homecoming/prom queen for a quest?)#sometimes i forget i played this game for YEARS and only got by with exploits (and lbr spending WAAAY too much real money on it)#(hwu was worse because you couldn’t exploit it)#but i never paid rings for classmates. i always partied#sometimes i rushed parties but i still did them#wait. hold on a second. i have phoebe. she’s a prom queen. it’s the prom KING i don’t have lmaoooo that’s easy#when i say i only get a boy and girl of each that doesn’t include main characters or vips so i’ll still eventually party for a prom queen#but yeah i do have one lmao
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foldingfittedsheets · 7 months ago
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When I was working at the sex shop I was pulling poverty wages. I loved my job but I was on food stamps and still barely getting by. When they hired the stores first male employee and he started at my pay rate after I’d been there for three years I quit.
I was initially really nervous when I saw the post for the mattress job. It listed a pay scale that I couldn’t even conceptualize and I appeared qualified. When I got an interview I was over the moon but also petrified. Reactions to my line of work often varied but most people were very embarrassed or skeptical. I worried about how I’d address it in the actual interview.
I lived far to the north of their headquarters and drove almost two hours to get there. When I finally arrived it was in the nicest thrift store clothes I could find, but I shrank inside to see a room full of older white men in nice suits waiting to be interviewed for the same job.
Why did I bother? I was decades younger than anyone else in the room, shabbily dressed, and I suspected I was the only afab person in the entire building. I stewed in my insecurities until I was called in.
The second I met my interviewer I was instantly put at ease. The man had the energy of a therapy dog, he was abound with positive, good natured energy. He was also incredibly beautiful. I grinned back at his welcoming smile as we said our pleasantries. But still. This very beautiful polished man seemed very innocent. How would the sex shop question go?
“I see here you worked at STORE?”
“Yes,” I said hesitantly.
“And that was sales? Or you just rang people up.”
“No, it was sales. I’d help people find products, we were encouraged to upsell, there was sales spiffs, and most importantly we educated customers on products to help them find what they liked best.”
He grinned approvingly and asked, “Can you give me an example of a time you successfully upsold a customer?”
I paused, wringing my hands before I asked, “How vague would you like me to be…?”
“Not at all!” He assured me. “Go for it!”
“Well. A man came in looking for something to make his fingers vibrate so when he was touching his wife it would enhance that sensation. We had cheap $10 cockrings that I showed him first. But we had a rechargeable waterproof one made of nicer material, and after I showed him a demo he bought that one.”
“How much was that one?”
“$110”
“Wow! You had an upsell of 100% from what he came in looking for! That’s incredible!”
He was so truly genuinely stoked and not at all embarrassed that for the first time I saw a tiny glimmer of a future where I didn’t have ramen and peanut butter tiding me over between paychecks.
He asked me to wait then came back to tell me he liked me so much that he wanted to send me right into another interview, if that was okay. He didn’t want me to have to drive back later, it was terribly considerate and exciting. I beamed and told him it would be lovely.
I then had the second worst interview I’ve ever had. The worst goes to the time I applied to be a store manager for a pet food place years later. The district and store manager interviewing me passed notes and texted while I was speaking. When the district manager called to inform me I didn’t get the job I told him I’d never have accepted anyway because I’d never had such a disrespectful interview.
The new man sitting behind the desk radiated an aura of a brick wall. As someone with anxiety I’m highly keyed into the emotional states of people I’m talking to. To receive no feedback at all was my personal hell. After a perfunctory greeting he asked me with no inflection to sell him a pen.
I gathered the shreds of my courage and attempted the Herculean task he’d set me. Through my whole improvised spiel he resisted all attempts at engaging him, regarding me with a cold apathy as I touted the benefits of my fictitious pen.
Halfway through I broke into a cold sweat. My smile didn’t waver but it grew strained as I projected friendliness and warmth into the black hole of his heart. My thoughts scattered and my sales pitch grew redundant in the face of his nothingness. I finally concluded with a hard close and he simply nodded.
He glanced at my resume and commented, “You didn’t ask me to touch or hold it. Though I suppose I can understand from your previous line of work why you wouldn’t.” I shriveled and died inside knowing that I encouraged people to touch dildos all day long and had been too frazzled to offer him the pen.
He bid me a cool farewell. I made it to my car before I started sobbing. I had never been so rattled. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make him so unfriendly or if my threadbare clothes were what had made him treat me like dirt. I drove an hour and a half to get home, weeping intermittently.
I was therefore taken by complete surprise to receive a call the next day inviting me on board for their five week training program. The first man who’d interviewed me gushed on the phone about how the second guy had loved me and that I was going to be fantastic.
I was in shock. When I showed up to training the second interviewer was charming my new classmates, beaming and laughing. He was an utterly different person. To my dismay I learned he was the trainer for my district and would be my point of contact if I made it through training.
He joked with me later that his interview facade was just a tactic to see how people held up under pressure and I filed him into a category of my deepest enmity. I never forgave him for how small he made me feel that day, but I never showed him the depths of my fury.
I aced every test and went on to be valedictorian of the eight people who had survived the rigorous training process to earn a sales position. When I got my first paycheck I bought myself new clothes, the first non-thrifted things I’d owned in years.
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moonxknightx · 2 months ago
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : SAVE IN HIS ARMS : :;
╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hwang In-ho x F!Reader
・❥・GENRE: Fluff and slight angst?
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆FANDOM: Squid Game
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: In the chaos of the third game, you were trampled and left helpless—until In-ho found you. Carrying you to safety, he calmed your panic, proving you weren’t alone.
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YOU’D THOUGHT THE FIRST GAME WAS BAD—Red Light, Green Light with its chilling, mechanical doll and the blood-curdling sound of gunshots that had followed anyone who dared to move at the wrong time. The sight of so many bodies dropping like flies was forever burned into your memory. But you had made it through, sticking close to In-ho and a few other players who seemed capable of keeping their cool under pressure.
The second game, Six Legs, had pushed you even closer to the edge. Six people tied together by the ankles, forced to move as one cohesive unit while completing a series of absurd mini-games. The first challenge involved a game of Ddakji, followed by Flying stone, Gong-gi, Spinning top and at last Jegi. Every challenge was absolutely nerve wracking. Every stumble risked pulling the entire group down.
“Stop panicking,” In-ho had said sharply when it was your turn to play Gong-gi. His tone was firm but not unkind, and his steady grip on your arm had kept you from collapsing altogether.
“I’m trying,” you’d whispered, your voice barely audible over the yelling of other groups.
“You’ll be fine,” he had replied, glancing at you with those piercing eyes. “Just focus on me.”
It was his calm presence that had carried you through. Somehow, your group had made it out alive, but not without leaving a part of your sanity behind.
Now, the third game was underway, and the tension was unbearable.
The platform beneath your feet spun relentlessly, the dizzying motion making it hard to stay upright. The eerie song blaring over the speakers didn’t help; its cheerful notes felt like a cruel joke, mocking your desperation.
You clung to the rail for balance, your eyes scanning the crowd for In-ho. He stood a few feet away, his tall, composed frame unshaken by the platform’s motion. Gi-hun, Jung-bea, and Dea-ho were close by, the four of them keeping together in a loose cluster. You tried to move toward them, but the spinning platform made every step feel like a gamble.
Finally, the music stopped.
The platform jolted to a halt, nearly sending you to your knees. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and shuffling feet.
“Two,” the woman’s voice announced over the speakers, detached and emotionless.
For a moment, there was silence as the words registered. Then chaos erupted. Players screamed, shoving and clawing at one another in their desperation to find a partner.
You stumbled forward, trying to push your way through the throng of bodies. “In-ho!” you called out, your voice trembling with panic.
Through the chaos, you caught a glimpse of him, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd. He was moving toward you, his path deliberate, but the surging mass of players made it nearly impossible to reach him.
“Time is running out. Please form your groups,” the woman’s voice droned on, unbothered by the chaos.
Someone slammed into you from behind, sending you sprawling to the ground. Your palms scraped against the rough surface of the platform, and a sharp pain shot through your ankle as someone stepped on it in their frantic rush.
You cried out, clutching your leg as tears blurred your vision. The crowd swirled around you, an unrelenting tide of fear and desperation.
Just as despair began to set in, a hand grabbed yours—strong and familiar.
“In-ho,” you gasped, relief flooding through you as he pulled you upright.
His face was etched with determination, his dark eyes scanning you quickly. “Can you stand?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.
“I—I don’t think so,” you stammered, clutching your throbbing ankle. “I can’t run.”
He didn’t hesitate. Without another word, he scooped you into his arms, holding you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. “Hold on,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you through the chaos. The timer on the wall ticked down mercilessly, but In-ho moved with precision, weaving through the panicked players with ease.
“In-ho, what about the others?” you asked, your voice trembling.
“They’ll manage,” he replied curtly. His focus was entirely on you, his grip on you steady despite the chaos around him. “Right now, I’m getting you to safety.”
The sound of footsteps and shouting grew louder as players scrambled to find rooms, but In-ho didn’t falter. He pushed through the crowd, heading for an empty room just as the timer reached zero.
The door slammed shut behind you, sealing you off from the madness outside. The sound of gunshots echoed through the arena, each one sending a fresh wave of terror through you.
In-ho set you down gently on the floor, his hands lingering on your arms as he crouched in front of you. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, his voice softer now.
You shook your head, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I almost died,” you whispered, your voice breaking.
“But you didn’t,” he said firmly. His hands cupped your face, his touch grounding you. “You’re safe now.”
The weight of his words brought a fresh wave of tears, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking as you sobbed.
“I can’t do this,” you choked out. “I can’t—”
“Hey,” In-ho interrupted, his voice calm but commanding. He gently pulled your hands away from your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Look at me. Breathe.”
“I—I can’t,” you stammered, your chest heaving.
“Yes, you can,” he said firmly. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his chest. “Feel that? Match your breathing to mine.”
You closed your eyes, focusing on the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. Slowly, your breaths began to sync with his, the tightness in your chest easing bit by bit.
“There you go,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheek. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
You nodded weakly, your tears slowing as his presence calmed you. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
In-ho’s expression softened, and for a moment, the hardness in his eyes gave way to something warmer. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said quietly. “I told you—I won’t let anything happen to you.”
For the first time since the games began, you felt a glimmer of hope. In his arms, amidst the terror of the arena, you felt something you hadn’t dared to feel in days: safe.
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(A/N) First Squid game fanfic! While watching season 2 i totally fell in love with In-ho (let’s forget the fact that he’s the frontman) so of course i needed to write a short oneshot of him. Feel free to drop requests in my inbox!
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onlyhyunjin · 5 months ago
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𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!
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(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT
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NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)
MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)
TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)
HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)
JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)
LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)
BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)
COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)
IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)
FUCK BUDDIES - @dimepdf (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)
TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)
PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)
RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)
I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)
VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)
10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)
RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)
CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)
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stllmnstr · 1 month ago
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sacred monsters: part four
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pairing: lee heeseung x f reader
genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn
part four word count: 15.8k
part four warnings: swearing, more blood and other vampire-y things, dark themes, descriptions of past abuse (non-explicit), even MORE tragic backstories, a little sexiness
soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood
note/disclaimer: EVERYONE DOUBTED ME. I DOUBTED MYSELF. BUT DESPITE IT ALLLLLLL HERE IS PART FOUR!!!!!!! Enjoy my friends, and then tell me about it! As always, happy reading ♡
⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖
A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.
But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.
⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖
When you wake up, it’s with a pounding headache and a deep wave of something that almost tastes like regret. 
Through the jumble of your sleep-addled mind, it takes you a few moments to locate the source of that uneasy feeling. But as soon as you do, it washes over you in a sweeping tide of sensation. 
Images, sounds, tastes. Feelings. 
You’re lying in your bed. Alone. But your mind isn’t convinced of it. 
For long, heavy moments, if you screw your eyes shut tightly enough, you’re somewhere else entirely. 
Notches of your spine pressed against the expanse of a wall. Long fingers, ones  that don’t belong to you, toying with the hem of your shirt. Tracing the skin beneath your ribs. 
Sighs that you swallow. Lips pressed against your own. Teeth. 
Desperate, heady, sordid.
A brief stinging sensation. The faint, metallic taste of blood. 
The breathy pleas that follow. 
All at once, all over again, you’re lost in it. Drowning in it. Consumed by it. 
It’s a ghost of the real thing, a mere shadow in comparison. But you’re aching with it just the same. 
Through the muddle in your mind, you barely remember getting home. 
Footsteps and movement and other mundane details are lost to memories of a much headier nature. 
Lips against yours in the cover of darkness outside your apartment door. Fervent whispers of words that sound like “Bad idea” and “Not tonight.”
But still. He followed you in. Or at least you think he did. There’s far too much room for error in the recesses of your clouded memory.
It feels real, though. The recollection of gentle fingers in your hair. Soothing this time. With the intent to calm, subdue. Creating distance from desperation instead of adding to it. 
The slow press of lips that you wish you had more time to become familiar with. Against your temple this time, the bridge of your nose, the swell of your cheekbone. 
And a final, quiet command. 
“Sleep,” he’d insisted. 
And you hadn’t wanted to, not really. But no matter how many encounters you’ve had with immortality, you’re still woefully confined to the constraints of your humanity. And exhaustion still has clutches you can’t escape. 
Eyelids flickering, unconsciousness sang to you like a siren song until you were unable to resist its lull any longer. 
And there had been no promises between the two of you, but waking up alone was not what you expected. 
It’s undeniable though, even as you sit up, sheets tangling around your hips. You’re still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. They’re wrinkled – a result of fervent ministrations and a long night of sleep disturbed only by strikingly vivid dreams. 
But even though small remnants of his presence remain, your room is empty, save for you. 
Rolling your neck in a slow circle, you wince at the stiffness, the tinge of pain you feel as it crosses above your left shoulder. 
The rest of your body carries a similar heaviness. As you ease your way out of bed, your limbs feel tight, stiff, overworked. 
Still, you force your feet to carry you to the space outside your bedroom. If you’re honest, part of you is hoping that you’ll find him waiting for you there. But as your eyes trace over the expanse of your apartment, your stomach sinks with disappointment. 
Empty. Just like your bedroom. 
It’s not enough to make you panic. Not yet. There are a thousand possible explanations for his absence. Before you start to decide which one is most likely, a knock echoes against your front door. 
And it’s almost embarrassing, the speed at which you cross your living room. 
But you can’t swallow the immediate sense of relief you feel. Coupled with a sudden swoop that reaches all the way to the pit of your stomach. 
Because he’s here. He’s here and it’s real and the surge of butterflies is enough to have you forgetting any potential complications. 
You know he can hear your footsteps, can certainly tell that your heart has just begun to beat unnaturally fast, but you don’t care. Can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. 
You wonder if he feels it too, this magnetic pull. It clutches at your heart with a soft touch and pulls at your mind like nostalgia. As if you’re a girl with a crush, writing the details of your affection in the secrecy of a diary and doodling hearts along the border. 
You pause, hand on the doorknob. With your other hand, you flatten the top of your hair, self-consciously tucking a strand behind your ear. 
It defies logic. After all, any remaining mussing is of his doing. But still, you can’t suppress the desire to have him see you at your best. 
After one last deep breath, you twist the knob. A smile is already tugging at your lips, widening along with the door. 
But when it opens fully, your lips fall flat. It’s not Heeseung that stands on the other side. 
From where he lingers in the doorframe, Jake scratches at the back of his neck rather awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. 
“Jake?” Disappointment colors your voice in obvious strokes. You might feel bad about it if you weren’t so confused. 
“Hey, ___,” he returns. His exhale almost sounds like an apology and it has your stomach swooping again. This time in trepidation. Anxiety. “Can I come in?”
“Is he okay?” It’s probably rude, the way you ignore his question entirely. But suddenly, it’s all you can think of. Why is Jake here? Avoiding your gaze and already sounding regretful. 
“Heeseung’s fine,” Jake assures. Your brow furrows. He’s fine, but he’s not here. You can’t decide if that inspires relief or something far more unpleasant. 
The silence extends for a moment. Jake doesn’t offer any additional explanation. Instead, he requests again, “I have something to ask you, but it would probably be better in private.”
“Right,” you nod, forcing the unease in your gut away. “Would you like to come in?”
Jake smiles, a tight thing, before stepping inside wordlessly. When you shut the door behind him, you keep your back turned for a moment. Inhaling deeply, you try to regain a bit of control over your mounting emotions before turning to face him. 
Jake has already made his way to your couch. Instantly, you're reminded of when another guest of yours did the same. It’s almost enough to send you spiraling again.
Jake, unaware of your inner thoughts, doesn’t let you linger in them for long. Instead he motions to the seat opposite of him. “Come sit.”
You frown, still fraught with nerves. Jake sounds far too serious for this conversation to be anything but unpleasant. Following his request, you slide down into the chair across from him. 
Once you’re seated, he doesn’t waste any time. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’ve got an errand for us today.”
Raising your brow, you wordlessly urge him to elaborate. 
Jake reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small, metal object. It takes a moment for you to recognize it, but once you do, your stomach only sinks further. 
It’s a key. The key. The same one you found last night. Along with someone whose absence is still very much unexplained. 
Jake looks at you, but your gaze is still trained on the object in his hand. “How do you feel about a return trip to New Haven?”
New Haven. You can hardly process his question, much less answer it. 
Because they were together. Heeseung gave the key to Jake. Intentionally passed it along to him. And despite all of the possible explanations, you can only fixate on one. 
He’s avoiding you.
You don't say anything, but Jake reads your expression all the same. Gently, he sets the key on the table between the two of you. Again, he sighs. It’s an apologetic sound, and you hate it.  
A beat passes. Two. He doesn’t beat around the bush. “Something happened between you two, didn’t it?”
You don’t answer. At least not with words. But the way your eyes widen is confirmation enough. 
“I—” You can’t decide if lying would serve you any good here. Ultimately, you decide to stick with the truth. You have too many unanswered questions to play any games. “How did you know?”
Jake smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “After five hundred years, you kind of just… know.” He pauses for a moment, weighing his words. And then he adds, “You don’t have to tell me, of course. But you can. If you want to.”
You can’t think of anything you’d rather do less. It’s illogical and frivolous and entirely human, but you’re embarrassed. The things that passed between the two of you hold weight in your mind. Significance. Importance. 
And now he’s deliberately avoiding you. You can’t help but feel slighted. Played. Used, even. Your voice is small when you ask, “Did he say anything?”
Jake shakes his head. “He’s been pretty silent. Even more so than usual.”
You don’t want to tell him. You don’t. But answers are still lingering far beyond your reach. Jake might not be privy to the details of your affection, but he does know Heeseung like the back of his hand. 
With a deep exhale, you push your pride to the side. 
“We…” you trail off, searching for the right words. Something that won’t feel too invasive, too intimate to share. “We had a… moment. And I thought— well,” you frown, suddenly unaware of your own expectations, “I guess I didn't know what I thought. But I didn’t expect him to avoid me.”
“Ah,” Jake enunciates carefully. “That would explain why he’s been so moody today.” He nods to himself, pausing briefly before adding, “It’s not because of you.”
You just give him a look, obviously disbelieving. 
“I mean, it’s not because of you specifically,” Jake clarifies. “It’s…  a bit difficult to explain. Heeseung is…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “guarded, as I’m sure you can tell. He’s quiet, reserved. He keeps a lot of himself locked up in his own head, and he ruminates on everything. Predicts a million terrible outcomes of every situation and fixates on them until he’s convinced himself that everything will end in flames.” 
“So a raging pessimist, essentially.”
“Maybe,” Jake pauses. “But I think that you have to consider his perspective, too. That’s the thing about immortality. It’s… lonely. Often unbearably so. We all deal with that in our own ways. Sunghoon and his bed are one extreme end of that. Heeseung’s the other.”
You frown. He’s skirting around the edges. Hinting at something without fully saying it and you’re tired of guessing. 
Jake sighs. “I won’t pretend to know everything that’s happened between you, but Heeseung’s not just acting irrationally.”
Your brow furrows. “What does that mean?”
“I…” This time it’s Jake that hesitates. A struggle plays out across his features, as if he can’t decide whether this story is one he should share. Finally, he exhales. “It’s not really my story to tell. But Jungwon had a similar situation, I guess you could say. We had only been changed for around twenty years when he met this girl. It was purely by chance. And it was completely innocent at first. She was an apprentice at the tailor shop in the town we were living in. A human one.”
Your stomach is sinking with every word. The story has barely begun, but you call tell from the tension in Jake’s expression that it doesn’t have a happy ending. 
“He never intended for anything to happen, but he met her once and then he kept going back. It wasn’t intentional, but things spiraled from there. Until he was in far too deep.”
Jake is sparing plenty of details, but even the vague picture he paints is enough to have the unpleasant feeling solidifying in your gut. 
“And there was nothing dramatic, really. No big fight or fall out.” Jake sighs. “But she got older. And he didn’t. For the time they had, they made each other happy. In a lot of ways, they were perfect for each other. Except for in the one way that mattered.”
His immortality. Her humanity. Jake doesn’t say it, but the truth is there all the same. 
“Their love fell apart in a quiet way. Slowly, steadily. Five years had passed, and Jungwon looked the same. She started getting suspicious. He was running out of excuses and had to cut contact just to keep us all safe.”
A part of your heart breaks for him, for the love that he lost, for the circumstances that were always going to dangle just outside of his reach. 
“He couldn’t help it, though. He kept tabs on her. And she did what every human does. She nursed her broken heart, and then she moved on. She fell in love and found a family. Including a daughter.
“But for Jungwon… It broke him. For almost two hundred years, he felt like a shell of himself. And we all watched it happen, but I think it hit Heeseung the hardest. Out of all of us, he was always the romantic, although you’d never guess that now.” 
Jake smiles wryly and the dread in your stomach hardens into a rock. 
“He might not have to hide what he is from you, but that will only buy you so much time.” Jake meets your eye, imploring you to understand. “No matter what happens between the two of you, you’ll always have something he doesn’t: the ability to move on. To forget. To find someone that fits into your life in all the right ways. He’ll never have that, no matter what he wants. No matter what he feels.”
Jake’s gaze settles on the side of your neck. The bite has already begun to fade, scar tissue covering what was once an angry red wound. 
“And he’s already led to you getting injured once. I can’t imagine the kind of guilt he’s probably feeling over that.”
You’re quick to protest. “But that wasn’t his fault—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Jake shakes his head. “That’s how he sees it.”
Lips tightening, you search for holes to poke in his logic. “Isn’t it better to take that risk? You can’t avoid a chance at happiness just because you’re worried it will lead to sorrow in the future.”
“That’s a nice perspective,” Jake agrees. “But it’s a human one. If you want to understand him, you have to consider what it’s like for him. His regrets and sorrows aren’t like yours. They don’t have an end date. They’ll live forever, just like him.”
“But so will the good memories—”
“No.” Jake shakes his head. “They won’t. Time will warp them, eat at them, until the good memories hurt just as bad as the awful ones. Maybe even worse.”
You flinch as if you’ve been scolded. Jake’s features soften. “I don’t expect you to understand. And I know he doesn’t either. He doesn’t expect your understanding or patience or forgiveness. He wouldn’t ask that of you, because he knows it’s not fair. Because he knows that it’s different for you.”
It’s selfless. It’s considerate.
You hate it regardless.  
Carefully, Jake adds a final suggestion, “For you and him, for the sake of your own peace, it might be best for you to do the same.”
His words settle heavily into the air. 
Do the same. It’s vague enough to be open to interpretation, but no matter how you warp it, there’s always one striking similarity. 
Jake is encouraging you to move on, to forget about last night and everything that led to it. To let memories fade and moments die before they can grow into anything stronger. 
And in the grand scheme of things, even in your limited mortal lifespan, it really hasn’t been that long. The first time you saw Heeseung was only a handful of months ago, and the taste of his name was bitter on your tongue for the majority of it. 
There have been so many versions of him. A rival classmate. A pesky annoyance. A savior. A guardian. A lover. 
A vampire. 
You don’t know him. Not really. You’ve seen parts of him, and the remaining pieces feel like something that would be all too easy to want. To love, even. 
And maybe Jake is right. He has the advantage of perspective. He’s seen history unfold and recognizes the patterns. He’s terrified that tragedy will repeat itself. 
But it doesn’t make it any easier – the thought of letting him go. 
Your feelings might be mortal. Your days may be limited, but that doesn’t make them any less significant. 
Amidst all the uncertainty, you know one thing for sure. It’s not a conversation with Jake that will give you any kind of closure, that will lead to any final decision. 
You need to talk to him. To Heeseung. Need to hear his thoughts and fears and desires in his own words. Need him to listen to yours. 
You’re not sure how to go about it. If he’s hellbent on avoiding you, there’s little you can do. 
But there must be something. Some way of getting to him. 
Before you have long to linger on it, another knock sounds against your door. It’s much sharper, more urgent than Jake’s was. 
Immediately, your eyes flicker to the vampire across from you, widening in surprise. 
Jake just sighs, shaking his head slightly. “I apologize in advance.”
Although slightly cryptic, it’s confirmation that whoever is on the other side poses no threat. Slowly, you stand, making your way back to your front door. 
Opening it, you find five overeager faces crowded in your doorframe. 
“Morning, ___,” Sunoo beams. “Hope you slept well.”
 “I don’t know,” Niki whispers, “Those look like some pretty serious dark circles.”
“Dude,” Sunghoon elbows him. “You can’t just say that.”
“Yeah,” Jay nods. “That’s super rude.” Turning to you, he gives you a wide smile. “You look great, ___. Not tired at all.”
In the center of them all, Jungwon just sighs. “Sorry to intrude like this.” Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his neck. “Is there any chance you could invite us in?”
Two minutes later, the sight that greets you would be enough to make you laugh out loud if the surrounding circumstances weren’t so dire. 
Your couch is far too small for the five vampires crowded onto it, elbows flying into ribs every time someone adjusts too far in one direction. Next to the chaos, Jungwon leans against the arm of the couch, eyes trained on you. 
His gaze feels assessing, almost. As if he’s trying to decipher the events of the previous day. Under his scrutiny, you do your best not to flush. 
From his seat at the far end on the couch, Jake’s lips pull into a flat line as another scooch sends him squished up even further against the armrest. “What are you all doing here?”
Jay smiles, nodding at you. “We came to check on our favorite human, of course.” 
“We heard you even snuck into your evil professor’s secret lair.” Sunghoon adds, nodding appreciatively. “Badass.”
“Plus we had to get out of the house.” Niki grimaces. “Heeseung is still in one of his moods.”
Despite yourself, you can’t quite help the expression that crosses your features as soon as his name is mentioned. 
As if that weren’t mortifying enough on its own, of course all six of them pick up on it. 
“Don’t worry about him,” Sunghoon waves his hand dismissively, entirely unaware of why you’re so affected by the sound of his name. “Being in a mood is just a regular Tuesday for Heeseung.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jay shudders, clutching at his neck. “When I mentioned that Jake was planning to go with ___ to New Haven so she could go back into the secret evil jail, I thought he was actually gonna throttle me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so–”
“Anyway,” Jungwon interjects. He might not have been privy to your conversation with Jake, but he is a bit better at picking up on the subtleties. “We did want to form a plan for your return to New Haven. I apologize for the sudden intrusion, but since you and Jake were already here, we thought this might be the best place for all of us to talk.”
Jungwon’s words barely register. He’s there. Heeseung is at their shared home. Of course he is. It makes sense. It’s the most likely place for him to be. 
But he’s there. They’ve all seen him. Talked to him. And now they’ve come here without him. 
“Right,” you nod, forcing a tight smile. “Well, we have the key from the professor’s university office now. And we don’t know for sure, but it just might open the chest I found last time at New Haven. As soon as we know that the professor is away from the building, I think we need to return and try to open it as soon as possible.” 
The thought of going back into that place fills you with a distinct sort of dread, but you need answers. You all do. 
Jungwon nods thoughtfully. “We can do that. We’ll get eyes on him first and establish a warning system for you and Jake.” Reaching into his back, he pulls out a pair of walkie talkies. “Heeseung also mentioned that there’s no cell service down there. The two of you can use these so that you’re not going in blind.”
Reaching forward, you take them from his outstretched hand. “These will be perfect,” you agree. 
“And ___,” Jungwon adds, suddenly serious. “Thank you. Truly. We know that none of this has been easy.” Five heads nod in near perfect unison. “But what you’re doing will save lives. There was another attack last night–”
“What?” You can’t mask your shock.
“A few miles outside of the city,” Jungwon confirms, lips pulled in a tight line. “In an area we hadn’t been patrolling. There were two victims.” Jungwon pauses, his words weighing heavy in the air. “High school students.” 
High school students. In recent weeks, death has become a familiar theme. But youth has it feeling brand new. You suddenly feel like crying. 
High school students. Kids. Children with their whole lives ahead of them. Dreams and plans and goals for the future. All lost in one tragic, horrific moment. 
Your heart hurts for their families, their classmates, their teachers. So many lives affected, changed, darkened. 
Teenagers whose worries should have extended only to homework and exams and finding a date for the prom. Not becoming headline news in an ongoing series of tragedies. 
Wait –
Headlines. News. 
Frantically, your eyes flick towards the clock on your counter. Last night really did do a number on you. You slept well past mid morning. If your clock is accurate, it’s dangerous close to one in the afternoon. Ignoring the fact that you can’t remember the last time you slept so late, you return to the more urgent matter at hand. 
Panicked, you turn to Jungwon. “We might have another problem. I’m supposed to have my first article for Professor Kim written in the next two hours. I don’t know if I–”
Jungwon shakes his head. “It’s already done.”
“What?” A confused frown pulls at your lips. “What do you mean? I haven’t written anything yet.”
Reaching for the bag he set down by his feet, Jungwon pulls out a small stack of papers. “He gave these to me this morning before we left,” he explains before handing them to you. 
Wordlessly, you reach out, accepting them. 
Fingers shaking slightly, your eyes trace the first handful of lines. 
It’s jarring – there’s no other way to describe it. 
You have no idea how he’s done it, but reading Heeseung’s writing feels a bit like looking into a mirror. It’s unsettling, just how easily he seems to be able to emulate you in his writing. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought you wrote this yourself. 
Everything is perfect, down to the last detail. Words you’ve been scolded by past professors for overusing are scattered throughout. Unique turns of phrases that are hallmarks of your style are intricately weaved between paragraphs.
And it only solidifies your determination.  
You have to see him. You have to.    
Writing has always felt like an extension of your soul, a physical manifestation of your very being. And anyone that can capture you this intimately, this intricately, is not someone you can just forget. 
Jungwon, unaware of your inner turmoil, must mistake your silence for scrutiny. “Is it okay?” He asks, an edge of concern in his voice. “We still have some time, so if there’s anything you need to change–” 
“No, it’s…” you trail off, unsure how to describe the writing in front of you. “It’s exactly what I would have written. 
“Oh,” Jungwon nods. “Okay. Well… Good, then. I have the digital copy too. I’ll send it to you and you can pass it along to the professor.”
You nod, a bit numbly, still shaken by what you’ve just read, still brimming with the urge to confront Heeseung about it.  
Logically, you know that your visit to New Haven can’t be delayed for something as selfish as this. People, lives, an entire city, are hinging on answers you might find hidden there, after all. But as soon as you’ve finished, you know what you’ll do next. 
You decide, in your living room, surrounded by a group of six immortal beings, that it doesn’t matter if Heeseung has senses and skills for evasion that far outmatch yours. You will find a way to see him, to talk to him. You have to. 
But then your gaze shifts, lands back on Jungwon. There’s a slight frown that pulls at his lips as he talks to the others, assigning patrol duties and discussing potential complications for your upcoming mission. 
The longer your gaze lingers, the more you see it. The unmistakable weariness. Telltale signs of exhaustion. Jungwon might have lost the physical need for sleep, but the exhaustion that clings to him comes from a different source. And it runs deep. 
All at once, you can’t help but wonder what Jungwon was like, all those centuries ago. Before he met her. The human girl Jake told you about less than an hour ago. You wonder if he still thinks of her now. You know he must. 
You wonder if it hurts just as bad, if the sting is just as sharp every time. And that sends your thoughts spinning to a different, far more dangerous place. 
In five hundred years, when the only memories of you that remain are left in these seven boys, you want them to remember you with fondness. The kind that aches with affection instead of regret. 
If Heeseung wants to prevent an inevitable heartbreak, then you suppose you can’t blame him for it. But to you, his avoidance is cowardice. Distance won’t undo what’s already passed between you. 
If he wants space, then so be it. You have a key in your hands and pressing matters to attend to. Heeseung will only stay hidden so long, and it’s best to do what you can in the meantime. 
You owe it to them, to him, to everyone whose lives have been touched by recent tragedies, to do everything in your power to change the trajectory of current events. 
So, with a new determination, you push Heeseung a little more firmly into the back corner of your mind, tucking all of the loose edges and pressing thoughts into a neat, tidy box to be revisited later. 
Pulling out your phone, you open the digital version of the article Heeseung has written under your name. You give it one more once over, and it’s just as uncannily you as before. 
Tucking away every feeling that inspires for later, you turn back to Jake.
“So,” you venture, eyeing him as he turns the key over between his fingers. “Are you ready to do this?”
…..
New Haven feels only slightly less ominous in full daylight. Although the remnants of winter still cling to the air like a bad omen you can’t quite shake, sunlight streams through the clouds with the steadiness of a sure thing. 
At your side, Jake appears equally uncertain. 
“Your professor has interesting taste.” It’s a joke, something meant to lighten the mood, but you hear the wariness all the same. 
“Wait until you see the inside.”
Jake picks the lock with nearly as much ease as Heeseung had the night prior, and then the two of you are inside. 
Despite his initial uncertainties, Jake handles the looming hallways and odd shadows of the publishing house rather well. Knowing that the other boys have eyes on your professor and are protecting you from afar helps to abate some of the anxiety, even if you still have to force away a handful of unpleasant memories that threaten to rise. 
When the two of you reach Professor Kim’s office, you don’t bother to hesitate. By now, you know what you’ll find on the other side of the door. 
Jake, however, does give a double take at the massive painting you and Heeseung put back into place just one short night ago. 
Gauging his reaction in your periphery, you decide to play dumb. 
“Is something wrong?”
Jake just takes another long look at the painting of the open field, filled with flowers. He tilts his head to the side, and for a moment, you think he rather resembles a curious puppy. 
“No.” Jake shakes his head. “Sorry, I just…” He takes one final look at the painting. “That painting just looked weirdly familiar for a minute.”
“Celedis, right?” You turn to face the vampire. “I thought the same thing, but Heeseung said it’s slightly different. Something about the flowers.”
At that, Jake doesn’t bother to mask his shock. “He told you about Celedis?”
“Showed me, actually. You know,” you reach your arm out towards him. “With the whole physical contact astral projection thing.”
You’re about to ask Jake to help you move the painting, but he’s still stuck in the details you’ve just revealed. 
Jaw nearly slack, he asks, “He showed you Celedis?”
“Yeah,” you frown. You didn’t realize this was new information. “I thought you knew. Back at your house, after I was attacked. He told me – er, showed me – about you guys.”
Remembering the water tower, you add, “And he’s used it, his ability, I mean, to show me other things about his past.” A memory surfaces, one of a young boy sneaking pastries from a medieval kitchen. Your heart gives a sudden lurch. “About Celedis.”
“Fuck, Heeseung.” Jake swears under his breath, but you hear it all the same. 
“Was he not supposed to?” Despite your current feelings of frustration towards Heeseung, your intentions aren’t to get him in trouble or create any sort of rift between him and the others. Suddenly, you’re scrambling to backtrack. “It was really only a couple of things to help me understand, I promise. He would never compromise your safety or–”
“It’s not that.” Jake shakes his head, interrupting. “Heeseung just… his ability isn’t one he uses often.”
At that, your brow furrows. That strikes you as odd. All things considered, it seems like a rather useful gift that should have found several practical applications over the past five hundred odd years. “Why not?” you ask. 
“It’s not…” Jake trails off, hesitating. Trying to decide how much he should share. “It’s not exactly something he takes pleasure in doing.”
Your brow creases further. That only leaves you with more questions than answers. You can’t remember him being particularly bothered either of the times he exercised his ability with you. “What do you mean?”
Again, Jake hesitates. His teeth worry at his bottom lip like that will prevent words from spilling out. “It’s not really my story to tell.”
“What story?” The corners of your lips pull downwards. “I don’t understand.”
For a moment, Jake just takes a long look at you. And then he sighs. “Heeseung explained Celedis to you?”
You nod.
“Including our origin story?” Jake pauses. “Our families?”
Again, you nod. “You were all nobles.”
Jake hums in agreement. “Yeah, we were. After peace was forged, the kingdom had to reorganize itself a bit. Our families were allies now, partners instead of enemies. Eventually, it was decided that each of our families would spearhead one sector of rulership, if you will.” Pausing for a moment, Jake gauges your reaction from his periphery. He asks, “Did he tell you about this?”
Deciding honesty will serve you best here, you shake your head. 
Much to your gratefulness, Jake just sighs again. “My family primarily dealt with the management of food resources. My father tracked annual crop production, rainfall, resources allocation, things like that.”
“Okay…” you nod, trailing off. The picture he paints is a logical one, but you don’t see a connection to Heeseung’s strange supernatural ability yet. 
Jake continues, “Heeseung’s father, on the other hand, always had a knack for strategy. It was decided that his family would be the de facto head of defense and protection of the kingdom. We were allies, but there was still worry that enemies from outside Celedis’ borders might arise. Although, his father’s methods were always a bit more… aggressive than you’d expect in peacetime.”
Frowning, it's hard to imagine. You suppose that hter may be sides to Heeseung you haven’t yet seen, but it’s difficult to think of him as anything but patient. Gentle. Hearing that his father was the complete opposite doesn’t sit well with you. Quietly, you wait for Jake to continue. 
“Even though we kept aging until we were twenty-one, our abilities manifested when we were just kids. And Heeseung, at ten years old, did what any child would do when he suddenly realized he could project his consciousness through touch.” Jake sighs again. “He told his mother.”
The memory comes rushing back unbidden. Heeseung isn’t here to project any visions, but all of a sudden, you feel like you’re back in that field anyway. Watching silently, helpless, as a tiny version of Heeseung accidentally makes his friend ill after his ability manifests for the first time. All over again, your heart hurts for him. Too small to understand what was happening, too frightened to do anything but seek consultation from his mother. 
“His father, of course,” Jake says, “eventually found out, too. And like any great strategist, he saw this newfound ability first and foremost as a tool. Heeseung wasn’t just a heir anymore. He was a weapon. And he was brought along to things no ten-year-old should have to see. War meetings, strategy sessions. Prisoner interrogations.” Jake’s eyes drop to the floor. “Torture, mutilation, executions. He was made to watch all of it.”
The small gasp you let out is involuntary. 
Jake’s eyes find you again. “And then, afterwards, he was forced to relive it, over and over and over. His hand on top of his father’s, so that the kingdom’s leader of defense could analyze every detail. Construct the perfect strategies, devise the best methods for extracting information, for making others bend to his iron will.”
Your stomach rolls with a fresh wave of nausea. 
Jake finishes with, “I’ve known Heeseung for five hundred years, and I can count on one hand the number of times he’s ever utilized his ability with me. Every single one of them has been out of sheer necessity.”
And explaining Celedis to you, sharing pieces of his long lost childhood, are decidedly not. The gravity of it all sinks in with full force, and you suddenly feel as if your knees might buckle under the weight of it all. 
You have to see him. You ache with it now, the overwhelming urge to just say fuck it and run until your feet have carried you all the way to their shared home. Until your fist connects with the outside of his bedroom door and the only barriers that exist between the two of you are easily breakable. 
But Jake has a key in his pocket, and you have the fate of a city resting in the liminal space between you. Selfish desires, no matter how strong, will have to wait. 
“I…” you hesitate for a moment, searching for the right words. “Thank you. For telling me, I mean. For trusting me.” 
Jake nods. “For what it’s worth, we all do. Trust you, that is. Even Jungwon, although he might never admit it out loud. It’s been a while since we’ve spent so much time around a human. They’re all really fond of you, you know.” Jake grins, something just a bit devious entering his eyes. “It drives Heeseung insane.”
“Well,” you return, “For what it’s worth, I’m quite fond of you all, too. Definitely my seven favorite vampires.”
“Aw,” Jake brings a hand to his heart. “You’re too kind. I’m honored, truly.”
Turning back towards the painting, it’s a sobering reminder of why you’re here, what you still need to do. Looking towards Jake at your side, you request, “Help me move this?”
Nodding, a refound sense of determination enters his gaze. “Let’s do it.” 
Painting aside and key in your hand, you find yourself once again face to face with the small opening that separates Professor Kim’s office from that horrifying dungeon of a room that sits just below it. 
Jake hands you a walkie talkie, and you eye it warily for a moment. “We’re sure these things work?’
“Positive,” Jake nods. “We tested them this morning. Oh, and I brought you this, too.” Reaching out, he hands you a headlamp. “He mentioned that it’s pretty dark down there.”
“Good thinking. Thank you.” Clipping the walkie talkie onto your belt loop, you take the light from Jake, securing the headband around your temple. Even though the gravity of the situation isn’t lost on you, you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous. Giving your front pocket a final tap, you confirm that the key is tucked away safely. “Well,” you turn back to Jake, “see you on the other side.”
“Good luck,” he nods. “And if anything, and I do mean anything, feels off, use that to talk to me, okay?” He just his chin at the walkie talkie at your waist. 
“I will,” you promise. 
And then, with just one final glance over your shoulder, you’re suspended into darkness just as surely as the previous night. For a moment, you consider igniting your headlamp. But you decide against it rather quickly. It’s probably best that you don’t see just how far beneath you the ground is. 
This time, thankfully, your decent feels much shorter. With some of the uncertainty stripped away, your feet are touching solid ground before you know it. 
Once you’re firmly planted, you reach for the light on your forehead. 
It ignites, shooting a strong beam of light straight out in front of you. 
Again, you fight the shiver that traces the length of your spine. It is quite cold down here, with a certain dampness that permeates into your bones, but that’s not why you shudder. 
WIth light revealing their secrets, the cells that line the passage are even more ominous. Dark, rusted iron lies in wait on either side of you. 
Handcuffs, chains, spare pieces of metal you’re sure you don’t want to know the purpose for, line your path as you force your feet forward. Even if you wanted to take a closer look, that’s not why you’re here today. Mission in mind, you continue down the long, dark path towards the opening where you know you’ll find the chest.  
Finally, after a few long minutes, you’re face-to-face with the locked chest again. The desk is still there, too, undisturbed. 
Taking a deep breath, you reach into your pocket, retrieving the key from Professor Kim’s university office. Forcing away any other lingering memories of the previous night that threaten to rise, you bring the key to the lock. 
Your hands are shaking. The cold, the fear, the anticipation. They all settle heavy in your bones and leave you with tremors you can’t quite stop. 
“C’mon,” you whisper out loud to the darkness, with no one but you and the faint sound of dripping water to hear. “Come on.”
Finally, the key aligns just right. 
Despite the tremble in your fingers, despite the improbability that this key even matches this lock, it slides in with ease. 
And when you turn it to the right, you hear a telltale click. 
In your shaking grip, the lock falls open. Sliding the key back into your pocket, you pull the lock out of the loop of the front of the chest. Setting it down at your feet, you take one deep inhale. 
And then, with hands that still tremble, you push the heavy lid of the chest open. 
You’re not sure what you expect. Something horrific, maybe. Some damning evidence of evildoing. Something soaked in blood, something so explicitly terrible that there’s no guesswork to be done. 
But the chest contains only two things. 
The first is a massive stash of what you assume must be distilled moonflower. Organized neatly into rows upon rows of tiny small vials that look terribly similar to the contraption he used to shoot you in the neck the first time you came to the publishing house.
This, in and of itself, feels like a revelation. According to Heeseung, moonflower is rare. And knowledge on proper distillation processes is even more obsolete. To have this much of it distilled and on hand… it must mean something. 
The chest is nearly overflowing with the small vials, save for a small space, just in the middle, where a book sits nestled amongst the moonflower. 
A book that looks nearly identical to one you’ve seen before. To one that still sits forgotten in the bottom drawer of the dresser next to your bed. 
Hands still unsteady, you reach for it. 
At first glance, it’s an exact copy of the strange book you found in the university library all those weeks ago. But as you lean closer, you notice one key difference. The title. 
The one you found tucked away on a library shelf was called Sacred Monsters: The Origins of Immortality. 
But it must be part of a set, an anthology of sorts. 
Because the book between your shaking fingers stares back at you with the title Sacred Monsters: Cures for the Affliction. 
Book in your hands, you realize you have a dilemma. The volume is far too thick to take pictures of every page, but removing it from the chest to bring with you feels risky. 
At least this time, you think as you reach for the walkie talkie at your waist, you don’t have to make all of your decisions alone. 
Pressing the button on the side, you speak into the receiver. “Hey Jake, you there?”
A handful of seconds pass before his response filters through. It’s crackly but perfectly audible. “I’m here. Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you confirm. “I found something. A book. It’s pretty hefty. I won’t be able to take pictures of all of the pages. Do you think I should bring it with me or just take a few photos and leave it here?”
“It was in the chest?” Jake asks.
“Yeah,” you nod. “I think it might be too risky to bring with me.”
“I agree,” Jake confirms. “Just take a few pictures, and then get out of there.”
“Will do,” you agree. “See you soon.” You secure the walkie talkie back on your belt loop. 
Setting the book down on the cold ground, you sink to your knees in front of it. Reaching for your phone, the first picture youtube is of the front cover.  
Deciding that they’ll want evidence of the moonflower as well, you reach up to angle your camera towards the open chest. 
And then you return to the book. Opening it to the first page, the similarities are uncanny to the one you found in the library before. The font, the slight discoloration, the ink smudges lost to time. It’s too overwhelming to just be a series of unlikely coincidences. It must be connected to the other Sacred Monsters. 
Taking quick photos as you flip through the pages, you force yourself not to linger, no matter how much curiosity eats away at you. You’ll have time to review the pages later, you tell yourself. Right now, the best course of action is to get in and out as quickly as you can. 
Still, a handful of phrases and words jump out at you as you photograph the pages. 
Moonflower distillation…
Degeneration…
Test subjects…
Nightshade…
And finally, just as you’re drawing to the end of the book, a phrase catches your eye. 
The Kingdom of Celedis. 
Your heart drops into your stomach, body going cold.
He knows. You’re not sure how much. You're not sure exactly what. You have no idea why. But your professor has a book locked away in a secret underground prison beneath his publishing house. A book that mentions a kingdom lost to time, forgotten by everyone, preserved only in the minds of seven immortal beings. 
Professor Kim knows. And somehow, that’s more terrifying than anything else contained in this dark, decrepit place. 
Taking a photo of the final page in the book, you let it fall shut once again. Placing it back in the chest just as meticulously as you found it, you close the lid again and slide the padlock through the hold. 
The key goes in just as easily this time, locks as easily as it opened. Despite the obvious age of everything else in this place, the lock has no signs of rust, no hint of disuse. 
It’s been opened regularly, you assume. And likely by your professor. 
As that realization begins to settle, the walkie talkie on your hip gives another disconcerting crackle. Immediately, your heart leaps into your throat, mind spinning with the worst possibilities. 
You’re at the very end of the passage. It will take you at least ten minutes to be back in the office and another three to be out of the publishing house. More than that if you account for the potential of your professor’s heightened senses. 
After a moment of extended silence, Jake’s voice filters through. 
“Everything still okay down there?”
Your mind swims with relief, but your pulse doesn’t slow. 
Bringing the device to your mouth, you press the button on the side. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just finished. I’ll be back up soon.”
Another beat of silence passes. And then, “Glad to hear it. I’ll be here.”
But you can’t help but confirm, “They still have eyes on Professor Kim?”
Jake answers quickly, “Yeah. Sunghoon and Niki have eyes on him. He hasn’t left his house.”
Tucking the key back into your pocket, you begin the journey back, your quick footsteps echoing against wet stone. “Good. See you soon.”
Down the narrow passageway, your phone feels leaden in your pocket, weighed down with evidence you’re not sure how to parse. You want to be out of here as quickly as you can, back in your apartment where you can compare the two books. Where you can show them to the others. 
Thankfully, again, the way out feels shorter. Despite the ache in your muscles as you pull your body up the ladder, time passes quickly as you ascend back to the publishing house. 
True to his word, Jake waits for you just outside of the narrow entrance. He reaches out a hand to help pull you back into the small room. 
Giving you a quick once over, he frowns. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You practically have. Celedis. But this isn’t the place. 
You shake your head and tell him as much. “Not here.”
Despite the brevity of your words, Jake understands. Instead of pressing you further, he helps you slide the mural back into position, once again covering the opening to the room below. 
Giving the painting a final look, you’re sure of it now. It is Celedis. It has to be. Even if some of the details are slightly wrong. 
But your head is spinning and your thoughts are jumbled and you can’t be the only one with the weight of so many revelations weighing on your mind. 
As the two of you make your way back down the hallway towards the front door of New Haven, Jake tells you, “We’ll reconvene at our place. We can go over everything there.”
You shake your head. “Tell everyone to meet at my apartment instead.” 
“What?” A flicker of confusion creases his brow as his head tilts to the side. “Why?”
“It’ll make sense soon, I promise,” you tell him. “There’s something there I need to show you. All of you.”
Jake glances at you, but he doesn’t question you further. His earlier words echo in your mind. “For what it’s worth, we all do. Trust you, that is.”
At your side, he pulls out his phone as you pull the door to New Haven shut behind you. “Jungwon,” you hear him say. “Change of plans. We’ll meet at her apartment instead.” 
Again, the questions must be short lived, and Jake is ending the conversation just as quickly as it started. 
…..
When you arrive back at your apartment, Jungwon, Jay, Sunoo, and Niki are waiting for you in the parking lot. 
Stepping out of the driver’s seat, Jake nods at Jungwon. Then, after glancing around, he asks, “Where’s Sunghoon?”
“Keeping an eye on the professor,” Jungwon answers. “We thought it would be best to have at least one of us tailing him still.”
Jake nods. 
Jungwon turns to you. “I take it you found something. And there’s something here at your apartment you want us to see?”
You nod. “Yeah. A… well, a book. Two books, actually,” you amend. “Let’s go up,” you nod at the staircase, “and I can show you.”
Jungwon hesitates for a moment. A meaningful glance that you can’t quite decipher passes between the five of them. 
“Okay,” he finally acquiesces. “Lead the way.”
Phone heavy in your pocket, you climb the two flights of stairs with the five of them trailing behind you. The distance they put between you is slightly odd, but you don’t have much space left in your mind to think much of it. 
That is, until you reach your doorstep. And find it already occupied. 
“Heeseung,” you breathe. A force of habit more than anything. 
He’s already looking at you. Heard your conversation in the parking lot and your footsteps on the stairs and your heartbeat in your chest. He knew the exact moment you would round the corner and the number of breaths it would take you to reach him. 
His dark eyes reflect afternoon sunlight in a way that looks all too much like stars, and you have no idea what to do with any of it. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, as if his words are anything more than a bandaid on a bullet wound, as if the five boys behind you can’t hear the words that pass between you. 
And you’ve been stewing in it since this morning, thinking of all the ways you could beg him, plead with him, convince him to let whatever lies between the two of you to blossom, to grow wings. 
But now, with his eyes on you and the fate of a city in the pocket of your jeans, words fail you. 
Finally, your lips part. “I have something to show you.” And now you’re the one putting up walls, building barriers. For now, he’s not a boy that kissed you until your head was spinning and you couldn’t make right from left. He’s a vampire, and the two of you have a job to do. 
Your hurt, your desires, your wounded pride still sit heavy in your gut. 
But you owe it to him – this boy that was born a prince and sharpened into a weapon and cursed with a blessing he never asked for – to bring an end to this particular bout of suffering. 
To let the tragic kingdom of his youth rest once and for all, even if you have to reopen wounds in the process. 
Across from you, Heeseung only nods. 
Stepping to the side, he lets you be the one to open the door. He doesn’t need to linger outside; he’s already been invited in, more than once. But he does anyway. He waits for your words, for your approval, and then he follows you inside. Behind him, the other five exchange long, sideways glances. 
Just like this morning, the sight of the six of them crammed on your small couch is almost enough to inspire a smile. Under any other circumstances, you’d be laughing out loud. Now, however, you just give a long exhale. 
“They key worked,” you begin. “It opened the chest.”
Five hundred years, and they all have yet to perfect their patience. 
“And?” Jay is practically tripping over himself to get the question out. 
“It was full of distilled moonflower,” you tell them. Vials like the one the professor used to inject me in the neck. Hundreds of them.”
“What?” Sunoo gasps.
“How?” Niki frowns. 
“Moonflower is rare,” Jake shakes his head. “There’s no way he could have that much of it.”
“Well, he must know some secret place where it grows or something,” you suggest. “Because he does.”
“No,” Jungwon shakes his head. “You don’t understand. It’s not only a matter of knowing where it grows. Moonflower is a magical substance, and magic is finite. It simply doesn’t grow in abundance. In order for someone to have a stash that large…”
“He’s been collecting it,” Heeseung finishes. “For a long, long time.”
“He’s been a vampire for twenty years,” you remind them. “Maybe he’s been collecting it just as long.”
Again, Jungwon shakes his head. “Hundreds of vials isn’t something that can be achieved in twenty years. Hundreds of vials is hundreds of years.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense.” You frown, wheels in your brain beginning to spin. 
“There are two possibilities,” Jake says. “Either your professor is lying about how old he is…”
“Or he’s not the only one that’s been collecting and distilling moonflower,” Jay finishes. 
Sunoo shakes his head. “We haven’t seen any evidence of him working with others.”
“Either way,” Niki frowns, “Something's not quite right.”
“The moonflower.” Jungwon looks at you again. “Was it the only thing in the chest?”
You shake your head. “No. There was also a book.”
“Right.” Jake nods. “The one you took pictures of.”
“Yeah,” you nod. “I left it in the chest, obviously, but I took photos of the pages. I didn’t have a chance to look too closely while I was there, but I think it talks about…” you trail off for a moment, eyes flickering to Heeseung, despite yourself. “I think it talks about Celedis.”
“Celedis?” Jake balks. 
“That’s impossible.” Jay shakes his head. 
But Jungwon just looks at you. “Earlier in the parking lot, you said you had two books to show us.”
“Yeah,” you sigh. “I do. I was in the university library a few weeks ago, and I found this book. It was about vampires, but it was… I don’t know. It was strange. It wasn’t vitriolic or propaganda. It was almost like a diary. The reason I wanted you all to come here is because I checked it out. I have it here, in my bedroom. But the weirdest part is the title.”
“The title?” Sunoo prompts. 
“It’s called Sacred Monsters: The Origins of Immortality. And the book I found in the chest today, it looked really similar. And it was called Sacred Monsters: Cures for the Affliction.”
A beat of silence passes. Another. 
“That,” Niki finally says, “Doesn’t feel like a coincidence.”
Standing, you nod. “I don’t think so either.” Walking to your bedroom, you open the bottom drawer of your dresser. With the events of the past weeks, part of you expects the book to have vanished mysteriously. To have been nothing but a figment of your overactive imagination. 
Despite your musings, Sacred Monsters: The Origins of Immortality lies undisturbed just as you left it. With careful hands, you pull it out of your dresser and bring it back to the living room, setting it on the coffee table in front of the boys. 
“This is the book from the library?” Jungwon asks. 
“Yeah,” you confirm. “And I don’t have a printer or anything, but I’ll send you the photos I took of the book from the chest today.”
Scrolling through the files you send him, Jungwon pauses on the cover, glancing between it and the book on the coffee table. “I see what you mean. These must be related.”
Reaching for the book, Jay flips open the front cover, frowning. “There’s no author or publication date.”
“I know,” you agree. “It’s all so odd. It wasn’t even in the library system,” you add, remembering that night at the library. “The librarian had to manually check it out to me.”
“Jesus,” Sunoo grimaces, glancing at some of the pages over Jay’s shoulder. “This is super depressing.”
“Yeah,” Jay nods. “I see what you mean. This is definitely about vampires, but it’s nothing like other human-written vampire literature. 
Next to them, Jungwon scrolls through the images you’ve sent him, enlarging photos to read pieces of text. With each and every passing image, his frown grows deeper and deeper. 
“We have a problem,” Jungwon finally says. Looking back at the photo, he amends, “Several, actually.” 
You assume he must have drawn the same conclusion as you. “He must know about Celedis, right? The professor, I mean.”
“Yes,” Jungwon confirms. “I’m sure he does.”
“But how?” Jay presses.
“I don’t know.” Jungwon’s mouth pulls into a grim line. “But that’s not all.”
“This page,” He holds up his phone. “It’s a guide. Explaining in excruciating detail how to harvest, store, and distill moonflower. It also discusses its side effects. On humans and vampires.”
Scrolling to the next photo, he adds, “It looks like they studied these side effects. Through experimentation. Most of these pages are entries. Data. Experiments.” Looking at all of you, he lets the weight of that sink in for a moment. “Whoever wrote this book tested moonflower and its effects. On humans and vampires.”
“What?” Jake frowns. “The professor tested moonflower on vampires?”
“Not the professor, necessarily,” Jungwon shakes his head. “But yes, whoever wrote this book must have.”
“The cells,” you breathe, a sickening realization beginning to build in the pit of your stomach. “The cells beneath New Haven. It wasn’t just a jail.”
“It was a lab,” Heeseung finishes, locking eyes with you. 
Jungwon holds up another photo. “I think you’re right. Look at this.” You all squint as he enlarges the photo. There’s a date at the top – September 13, 1942. And next to it, a number V029.
Beneath it are a series of notes too small to make out from where you sit. Jungwon reads them, “Dosage: 8 milliliters. Injection site: Lower throat, right side. Time of effect: 2 minutes, 19 seconds. 
“V029 continues to exhibit strange behaviors under the influence of Moonflower. Although dosages have varied, the results remain consistent. Today, she spoke again about “Celedis.” When prompted with the addition of pain, she requested drawing paper. Upon refusal, she would not speak. A second dosage was administered (6ml) and further infliction of pain was utilized. V029 did not respond audibly to any given prompt or stimuli.”
“Celedis,” Jake echoes. “One of his… test subjects,” he spits with vitriol, “was the one to mention Celedis.”
“That still doesn’t make sense,” Jay points out. “It doesn’t matter if his test subjects were vampires. We’re the only ones that know about Celedis. Every other vampire in existence is a descendant of the eighth son. None of them should have any idea that Celedis ever existed.” 
“And we don’t know that these were the Professor’s test subjects,” Niki points out, echoing Jungwon’s earlier words. The page is dated for 1942. If he is telling the truth about when he was turned, he wasn’t even alive yet.”
“There must be some way to corroborate that,” you frown. “He said that he was turned the same night his entire family was massacred. Obviously, it wouldn’t have been reported as a vampire attack, but there should be something about it. Some kind of public record of their deaths, at least.”
Heeseung nods, pulling out his phone. “I’ll see if I can find anything.”
“Um,” Sunoo interjects, holding up the original Sacred Monsters book, the one you brought home from the library. “We might have another problem.”
Six pairs of eyes turn to look at him. 
“Most of these entries just seem like personal writing, like you said,” Sunoo nods at you. “But this section towards the end, here…” He trails off for a moment. “It’s called Blood Moon Ritual.”
“What?” Six voices echo in unison. 
“ There’s only one entry,” Sunoo continues, frowning. “And it doesn't really make sense. It’s a poem, like the others,” Sunoo explains. “Here, I’ll read it.
“The Origins of Immortality
That which was lost can be gained. 
The requirements are the same. 
That which was gained can be lost.
The sacrifice goes unchanged. 
Every life can end.
Every life can endure.
Fate is always determined
By what the wish is for.”
For a moment, your living room is silent. 
Jay breaks it by asking, “What the fresh hell does that mean?”
“Literature majors,” Niki glances between you and Heeseung. “Either of you want to pipe in on this one?”
“I mean,” you start, “without context, it kind of just sounds like a bunch of nonsense.” 
Before you can turn the words around in your mind again, Heeseung speaks up from where he sits. “I think I found something,” he says, holding up his phone. 
“Really?” You ask, just at the same time as Jay presses, “What?”
“There is a record from,” he double checks the date, “almost exactly twenty years ago. It’s anonymous, but it gives ages. A nine-year-old child and her forty-three year-old mother. The official cause of death is listed as an animal mauling.”
“That matches, then. That’s exactly what the professor told me.”
“There’s more, though,” Heeseung frowns. 
“More?” Your brow creases. 
“Another death.” Heeseung matches your gaze. “The child’s great grandfather, age ninety-one. And the location of death… Didn’t Professor Kim tell you that he was visiting family outside of the city?”
You nod. “He said it happened in a remote cabin. A group of nomadic vampires attacked them there.” 
Heeseung shakes his head. “The location listed here is the city. This city.”
Your frown deepens. Heeseung sticks the final nail in the coffin. “Their bodies were discovered near a row of abandoned buildings where there have been past instances of mountain lion activity. It’s on the far side of the city. Just a few blocks away from New Haven.”
You echo his words. “His family died near New Haven?” It’s odd, the way the truth seems to mingle with lies. The way your professor seems to have chosen strange pieces of the story to be dishonest about. “Why would he tell the truth about his family dying from a vampire attack twenty years ago but lie about where it happened? And not mention a grandfather?”
“I don’t know,” Heeseung says. The reality of just how much you have yet to uncover begins to settle uncomfortably in the air. Every discovery seems like it only leads to ten more mysteries to solve, another dozen dead ends. 
“I’m still stuck on Celedis,” Jay says. “We need some way to figure out who this person was and how they knew Celedis. We need–”
“We need the whole book,” you finish. 
It’s not a question or a matter of opinion. It’s the obvious conclusion to be drawn. 
Jungwon nods. “Sunghoon should still have eyes on the Professor. I’ll confirm that he’s still home, and then we can–”
“Are you insane?” Heeseung isn’t looking at his phone anymore. His search for more information on the tragic deaths of Professor Kim’s family are forgotten for the moment. “She was just there twice, and you want her to go back again? Now?”
“Heeseung…” Jake warns, taking care to guard his tone. 
“I know it’s not ideal,” Jungwon tries to placate him, “But that book has answers that we need. Right now, all we can do is speculate. If your professor has a massive stash of distilled moonflower and knows about Celedis, who knows what else he might have access to? What else he might know? People are still dying, and he’s connected to it all somehow. I’m sure of it.”
“I know that,” Heeseung bites, visibly frustrated. “But why does she have to be the one to–”
“And how exactly are you planning to get one of us down there?” Jungwon sighs, running an open palm over his features. “I don’t want to argue with you, but unless you have a plan for getting Professor Kim to invite you into his secret vampire torture chamber, ___ is the only one of us that can get this book.”
“It’s okay,” you finally interject. Something about the two of them arguing over your fate while you sit and watch doesn’t quite sit right with you. More than that, something about him always speaking over you, acting as if it’s all in your best interest, while also not bothering to give you the time of day, is all too reminiscent of the other decisions he’s made on his own. 
Still, you choose to be gentle. “I debated with Jake, actually, about whether I should bring the whole book or not. We thought this would be safer for now, but I knew it was a possibility that I would have to go back for it. I was prepared for this.”
Heeseung looks like he wants to say more, like he wants to argue, but something in your expression has his words dying on his lips. 
“I’ll get ready,” you nod. Retreating to your bedroom, you add, “Just give me a minute to grab my jacket.”
In all honesty, your jacket is the least of your concerns. Because despite your resolve, despite the will that you’ve forced yourself to steel, Heeseung is right. 
Even at a distance, he can still read you like the back of his hand. Like an open book with nothing but pages for him to peruse at his pleasure. 
The thought of going back to New Haven, of going back into that cold, dark, empty expanse of horror sends your mind spiraling. Walking into the bathroom adjoined to your bedroom, you place both hands on the counter on opposite sides of the sink. It’s an attempt, a feeble one, maybe, at grounding yourself. 
Forcing your gaze upwards, you match your own eye in the mirror. A million emotions are reflected back at you. Determination, weariness, resolve, fear. 
You’re scared. No matter what you tell them, no matter what you tell yourself, you feel it. Swimming in your mind, nestling in your bones. A terror rooted so deep you’re not sure you’ll ever get it out. 
You don’t want to go to New Haven. You don’t want to descend down that ladder. You don’t want to risk your life or your comfort or your sanity. You don’t want to have feelings for an immortal being that needs blood to survive. 
But reality doesn’t bend to the whims of frightened girls, and ignoring the things that scare you won’t make them go away. 
Bravery, you think, as you watch your reflection in the mirror. It’s not just reserved for moments that feel grand in scale. It’s also here, in places like this. Where there’s nothing but you, your reflection, and all of the things you wish you could avoid waiting for you just outside the door. 
So with a final inhale, you force your features into something neutral, something that at least five of the boys waiting for you outside will believe. And then you walk back to your bedroom, making sure to pull your jacket over your shoulders before stepping back out into the living room. 
Jake stands from his seat on the couch when you enter the room again. Heeseung avoids your gaze. 
“You ready?” Jake asks. 
“As I’ll ever be,” you nod, forcing a false sense of cavalier lightness into your tone. 
“Good thing I left the headlamp in the car,” Jake jokes, pulling on his shoes. 
“And the walkie talkies,” you agree. 
Despite yourself, you can’t quite stop your eyes from wandering back towards your living room one last time. 
Jungwon is dictating new assignments while the others listen attentively. Well, three of them anyway. 
Heeseung just sits there, his eyes still trained on the ground. 
You’re sure he can feel it, the way your gaze settles on the side of his face, traces his profile and then does it again. But no matter how long your gaze lingers, he won’t return it. 
And maybe this is it, you think. Maybe you’ll just have to make peace with the fact that all you’ll ever get from him are closed doors and avoided eye contact. 
He’s had his teeth in your neck and your blood on his lips, and despite it all, the only thing he has for you now is a cold shoulder disguised as concern. 
And if this self flagellation is some kind of atonement, an apology for a crime he’s convinced himself he’s committed, then that, you think, is where his true selfishness lies. 
He can call it altruism and immortal wisdom all he wants. But caring for you from a distance will never be something you thank him for. 
It’s not a declaration you can make in front of an audience, so with a final sigh, you turn towards your front door and follow Jake’s retreating figure from it. 
As it so happens, you can be selfish too. You pretend you don’t feel Heeseung’s eyes on your back the entire way out. 
However, you must not be as good at disguising your fear as you thought, because Jake is nothing but apologies while the two of you walk side by side down the stairs. 
“I really am sorry,” he breathes into frigid air. The warmth of his breath creates a visible cloud. “I shouldn’t have told you to just leave the book there, but I was worried–”
“It’s not your fault.” You shake your head. “I thought it would be best to leave the book, too. And it’s okay, really. I’ll be just fine.”
“Still,” he reiterates. “I’m sorry that it has to be you. It can’t be fun going down there all alone. And especially since we know what it was used for now…”
Your lips flatten. “Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?”
“Sorry,” He laughs, apologizing again. “You’re right. No more gloomy talk. We’ll just get you in and out as fast as we can, and we can worry about the rest of it later.” 
“Works for me.” You force a tight smile, reaching for the car door. If it’s any consolation, you’re glad that it’s Jake you’re with. His presence is steady, carries a certain kind of lightness that helps to chase away some of the lingering storm clouds, even if just for a moment. 
But just as you move to slide into the passenger seat, you hear the telltale sound of footsteps on pavement over your shoulder. They’re rapid, loud. Whoever it is, they’re running. 
Turning over your shoulder, your brow creases in confusion when your eyes land on Heeseung. Again, it’s not you he’s looking at. 
Heesung is talking to Jake when he says, “Change of plans. Jungwon wants you down by the river.”
“What?” Jake frowns. “But what about–”
“I’ve got her.” Heeseung’s words cut through the air like an arrow, pierce through your uncertainties like a knife. 
“I…” Jake trails off. He’s looking at you, not Heeseung when he asks, “You sure?”
“Go,” you nod. “I’m sure Jungwon has his reasons.” It’s flimsy reasoning, and between the three of you, no one is convinced that Jungwon is responsible for this change. 
But they’re switching places all the same. Jake gives you one final glance over his shoulder, and you swear you see him shake his head before he heads back up the stairs to where the other boys still sit in your apartment.
And Heeseung still won’t look at you, even as he walks around to the other side of the car and slides into it, sitting only a handful of inches away from you. 
It’s a reflection of this morning, an echo of earlier as the car turns out of your apartment parking lot and sets course for New Haven. Only this time, it’s Heeseung in the driver’s seat, not Jake. 
The silence between the two of you extends for long minutes, nothing but the gentle hum of the car heater to fill the empty air. 
Finally, with nothing but road ahead of you, Heeseung exhales a long sigh. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You say the word, and I’ll turn this car around. We can go back to your apartment or to my place or somewhere else entirely. I’ll get you on a plane out of the country, if that’s what you want.”
You raise a brow. His meager attempts at kindness have started to lose their shine. “And the book?”
Heeseung shakes his head. “Fuck that stupid book.” 
Easy to say, maybe. But both of you know it’s not true. Besides, “I don’t want to leave the country.”
“Really?” You can’t tell if he’s serious when he adds, “I hear that Costa Rica is lovely this time of year.”
“I’m sure it is,” you concede. If he wants to skirt around admissions, you’ll run headfirst into them. “But I’d be worried about you.”
Heeseung only sighs. “I can take care of myself.”
“That’s not what I mean.” You’re sure he knows it, but being difficult on purpose isn’t new to either of you. “And we’ve had this argument before. My mind hasn’t changed, and clearly yours hasn’t either. If you get to decide how to live your life without any input from me, then I expect the same courtesy from you.”
“It’s different,” he insists. Now, at least, he’s talking. Even if it’s only to beg for a bit of your understanding. “I’ve already lived a life. Too many lives. Five hundred years worth of life with no sign of any end coming soon.”
You have to disagree. “Have you, though? You know, when people talk about having lived a life, they’re not just talking about years. They’re talking about family, friendships, community. Achievements, accomplishments.” The last word dangles from your lips. Oh, fuck it. “Love.”
Next to you, Heeseung is silent. You press on, “I understand that you’ve made up your mind. That with all your five hundred years of immortal wisdom, you’ve decided you get to make decisions for the both of us. But you know what else is a normal part of life? Kissing someone and regretting it. You can just avoid me at parties, you know. You don’t have to threaten to send me to Costa Rica.”
“It wasn’t a threat–”
But you’re not done. “I liked it, by the way. In case you were wondering. I don’t care if you regret it.” Your pride feels like something forgotten, discarded long ago. Maybe it’s a facade or false bravado, but you find it easy to bare your secrets here in the passenger seat. “I liked it when you kissed me. I liked the way it felt when you put your hands on me. I liked the way you lost control with my blood in your mouth. I went home and I laid in bed and I thought about it. All alone in my bedroom, with my hands on my skin everywhere you touched me while I pretended like it was you. I dreamed about you. I woke up thinking about you.”
Heeseung whispers your name. A warning, a plea. He might as well be shouting in your ear. 
“You can avoid eye contact and pretend it never happened all that you want. I’m not going to. In fact, I’m probably going to think about it again tonight. Do what you want. I’m not going to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you, and I’m not going to avoid New Haven,” Your chest is heaving now. Between words, it’s easy to forget that you need to breathe, too. “And I’m not running away to fucking Costa Rica.”
“You think I enjoy this?” Heeseung’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel. “You think I like having this… this war in my brain? This constant struggle? You think I’m playing with you? Toying with your feelings because I can’t make up my mind?” He shakes his head and sends your thoughts scattering. “I’m not. You used to glare at me across the lecture hall, and it would be the highlight of my day. I looked forward to every assignment Professor Kim gave us, because it meant I’d have another chance to read something you’d written. I’ve been alive for five hundred years, and I don’t think I’ve ever found anything that makes me feel the way your words do. For the first time in my life, I felt like someone else could take what I was feeling and put it into words.”
That gives you pause. He… thought about you? Even then? He read your writing?
“And it didn’t stop there. I used to go home from class imagining, praying that I could be like every other person in that stupid class. That I could be just another kid in my twenties worried about disappointing their parents and picking the wrong major. That I could waste my afternoons staring at the pretty girl in my literature course that couldn’t be bothered to give me the time of day. Fantasizing about asking her to study with me at a coffee shop or share a workroom in the library.”
Your eyes are wide now, and they’re trained directly on him. Heeseung is still looking out at the road in front. 
“You think I don’t think about you too? That I want to pretend none of it ever happened? You’re wrong. All I do is think about you, and all I do is want. But they’re things I can’t have, things I can’t be. I wish I could fall asleep dreaming about you. I wish I could wake up with you on my mind and know that I only have so many days to do something about it.”
He shakes his head, as if that will clear the errant thoughts that have clearly begun to consume him.
“But I can’t. I can’t sleep. I can’t shut off my brain, even for a second. All I do is think. All I do is remember. You think I didn't like it? You think I didn’t go home with the feeling of your skin on my hands and the taste of your blood in my mouth? You think I don’t spend every waking hour with the sound of you whimpering burned into my mind? I’ve wanted things before, but never like this. I made peace with myself a long time ago. I know what I am and I understand that ultimately, my existence is a burden to this world. I’ve learned to stop wishing for impossible things. But every time I look at you, I just… I just want.”
Your voice is small. You don’t know how to respond to any of it. “It’s okay to want things.”
“It’s not.” Heeseung shakes his head. “Not when they’re impossible. Not when it will only bring pain to the people I care about. I don’t want to be someone you avoid at a party. I don’t want to watch you move on with your life when this inevitably ends. But all of those things you talked about earlier, all of those parts that make up a life – friendship, family, community. I can’t give you any of that.”
It’s hard to hear. It hurts to see how visibly upset he is about all of it. 
“It doesn’t matter if I live for another five hundred years or a thousand years or until the end of time itself. I already know I’ll spend all of it thinking about you.  I’ve made peace with it before, and I’ll learn to do it again, but I can’t take your life from you. And even if I wanted to, I can’t watch you grow to resent me for it.”
In front of you, the road appears endless. With sunlight reflecting in the rearview mirror, the day is dying, and your hopes are going with it. 
“When I tell you that I’ll send you to Costa Rica if that’s what you want, it’s not because I’m trying to get rid of you. It’s because I want you to make the choices that are best for you. Not for me, not for the boys, not even for this city. I don’t expect you to take me up on it. Your moral compass will be the death of me, I’m sure. But the offer will always be there.”
Your emotions feel frivolous. Your desires feel petulant. Still, you can’t help but counter, “And what if I resent you now? For not even giving this a chance?”
Heeseung smiles, a wry thing that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Then I’ll take comfort in knowing you have a whole life ahead of you to get over it.”
It’s a stalemate that has the car stumbling back into silence, even as your head spins. He noticed you, he thought about you, long before you ever thought you were even a blip on his radar. 
He read your words and connected to them. As a writer, it feels as if he’s admitted to seeing your soul and finding it beautiful. As a human, it makes you want to fall in love, despite all of the ways he’s thoroughly and entirely erased that possibility. 
You’re not sure how long you sit in the quiet, mind reeling. It can’t be more than a handful of minutes, though, before the scenery around you begins to take a familiar shape. You’re close. 
Early evening has just begun to close in. Around you, shadows are growing longer, street lights flickering on as the last rays of sunlight fade from the day. 
Still a few blocks away, Heeseung pulls into an empty parking lot. 
You frown. “Surely we can get a little closer than this?” It’s seamless, how well the two of you slip into your roles. You have a job to do. In the face of that reality, it’s as if the past twenty minutes don’t exist at all. The only evidence is the lingering tension that simmers in the air. 
“It’s not that.” Heeseung pulls his phone out, frowning at the screen. “Sunghoon’s not responding.”
“What?” Your eyes widen. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Heeseung assures you. “He was responding to Jungwon just fifteen minutes ago. But that means we haven’t heard from anyone with eyes on the professor since then.” Weighing his options mentally, Heeseung finally suggests, “Why don’t we drive by New Haven first? We can make sure everything looks okay. If Sunghoon still hasn’t responded by then, we can make a decision.” 
“Okay,” you nod. 
Back on the road, it takes you less than five minutes to reach the publishing house. Immediately, you can tell that something is wrong. 
“There’s a car,” you whisper, even though you’re still inside the safety of the car, still driving down the road. “There’s a car parked out front.” 
“I see it.” Heeseung’s lips pull into a tight line. 
“I think it’s his car.” Your eyes widen. “The professor’s.”
“Yeah,” Heeseung confirms. “I think so too.”
“Why is he here now?” You wonder. “Didn’t you say Sunghoon had eyes on him at his house just fifteen minutes ago?”
“Something’s not right,” Heeseung agrees. “I’m going to turn around. We’ll head to the house and figure things out there.” He maintains an even tone, but you can sense the hint of panic in his voice, the slight tremble as he turns the car around and starts to head in the opposite direction. 
“Sunghoon…” You trail off. 
“Try calling him.” Heeseung passes you his phone, jaw tight. 
Taking Heeseung’s phone from his outstretched hand, you press the call button. The phone rings. In the quiet, each shrill ring sounds like thunder, burns like terror. 
“He’s not answering.” Your voice is quiet as you state the obvious. The call drops from lack of response. 
“Fuck,” Heeseung swears beneath his breath. But then he reasons, “I’m sure it’s fine. He’s probably just occupied at the moment or–”
The sound of a ringtone suddenly fills the car. 
“Is that him?” A wave of relief washes over his features. But it’s premature. 
“No,” you shake your head, frowning at the dark expanse of Heeseung’s screen. “It’s my phone. Hold on.” Digging it out of your pocket, the caller ID only makes the dread in the pit of your stomach intensify further. 
Again, your phone rings, the sound cutting through the car like a knife. 
“Who is it?” Heeseung asks. “Your heart just jumped like crazy.”
“It’s Professor Kim.” Your words are barely a whisper. 
“What?” Despite the task at hand, Heeseung takes his eyes off of the road and turns to you. 
“I should answer it, right?” You frown, fingers trembling. “He’s probably just following up on the draft I submitted earlier.” You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince – Heeseung or yourself. 
“Fuck,” Heeseung repeats. “I… yeah, you should answer.”
“Okay, just,” you sit up a little straighter, as if your professor can somehow see you. “Just don’t make any sounds.”
Sliding your thumb across your screen, you accept the call. 
“Hello? Professor Kim?”
“Hello,” he greets from the other end. Oily slick as always, but there’s something ragged in his voice, too. As if he’s recently exerted himself. At the very least, he doesn’t leave you wondering for long. “I had a chance to review your article.”
“Oh,” you reply, some of the tension easing from your shoulders. “What did you think?”
“Outstanding work,” he praises. “Truly. You are one of the most gifted students I’ve ever come across.”
Under any other circumstances, you’d beam with the praise. Now, your anxiety only heightens. Twists knots in the pit of your stomach. “I… I appreciate that, professor. It means a lot coming from you.”
“I’d like to discuss my suggestions for edits, of course.”
“Right,” you nod. “Could I call you back? I don’t have my computer at the moment, and–”
“I’d like to discuss with you in person, actually.”
“Oh,” you force neutrality into your voice, even as your heart gives a sudden lurch. “Okay. I’m available tomorrow, if there’s a time–”
Again, he interrupts you. “I would like to speak with you tonight. And I have something to show you. It’s quite urgent, I’m afraid.”
“Tonight?” You echo. And ‘something to show you’? At your side, Heeseung stiffens. “It’s a bit late. I’m not sure…”
“With the recent deaths in mind, I’m sure you understand that time is of the essence. The sooner we can publish your work, the sooner the victims can be avenged.”
You turn to Heeseung, a question in your eyes. Matching his gaze, you see the way his head begins to shake. His silent disapproval of the idea. But then he stops, sighs. 
In the driver’s seat, next to you, Heeseung silently mouths three words. 
It’s your choice. 
It almost makes you want to cry. His small adjustment. His trust in your ability to choose for yourself. 
Into the receiver, you ask, “Where should I meet you?”
“The publishing office,” your professor responds, approval in his voice. “How soon can you be here?”
Mentally constructing an alibi, you settle with, “I’m not too far away, actually. Probably twenty minutes. Maybe a little longer.”
“Excellent. I’ll see you shortly.”
The line clicks dead. 
“I don’t like this,” Heeseung’s voice is dripping in unease. 
Yours is no better. “I don’t either, but it’s all part of earning his trust, right?”
“He said he had something to show you. I don’t like all of the possibilities that could entail.”
“I’m sure it’s just something to do with the article,” you try to reason. “He’s probably prepared it as a mock publication or something and thinks I’ll be thrilled to see my writing in an official format.”
Under any other circumstances, you would be.
On the topic of your article, you’re reminded that the words in question aren’t actually yours at all. If this car is a place for revelations, you decide to add one more to the list. 
“How did you do it, by the way?” Your gaze traces Heeseung’s side profile where he looks out at the road ahead. “How did you write that article just like I would have?”
Heeseung just sighs. “I told you,” his voice is low, quiet, “your writing means a lot to me. I’ve spent a lot of time with it. I suppose that made it easy to emulate.”
“Well, thank you.”
“For stalking your writing?” Heeseung teases. 
“For reading it,” you correct. “For taking the time to understand it.” To understand me. 
“You act like it was torture for me.”
“Well, I do remember you calling one of my pieces ‘nauseatingly vitriolic.’” It feels like a lifetime ago, that evening in the writing workshop. 
“That was one piece,” Heeseung defends. “And it wasn’t really you.”
“No,” you agree, “it wasn’t.”
Heeseung glances at you, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine it too. A world where he’s just Heeseung and you’re just you. 
Two humans that met by chance, worried about disappointing their parents and picking the wrong major. Arguing over semantics and vying for attention from their professor. Stealing glances across the lecture hall that start to linger just a little too long. Meeting outside of class and pretending it’s nothing more than a terrible coincidence every time, even if you never fail to slide down into the seat next to his. 
Stealing kisses outside of your professor’s office. Sharing a cup of warm tea at a sporting event both of you are only pretending to understand. Falling in love. 
Simple moments. Quiet moments. Human moments. 
Heeseung reminds you just how far away that version of reality is when he asks, “Should I turn around, then? It’s already been five minutes.” His voice is quiet, like there’s a fantasy he doesn’t want to disturb, too. 
You shake your head. “Take a right at the next light, and drop me off at the bus stop. There’s a group of cafes a couple stops down that are popular with students. If he asks, I’ll say I was at one of them when he called.”
Heeseung doesn’t bother to protest. He follows your directions until the two of you are parked on the curb of the bus stop. Bidding him goodbye, you step out from the passenger seat. “I’ll meet you back here,” you tell him. “I’ll take the bus this far, just to be safe.”
“Okay,” he agrees, “but message me before that. As soon as you can.”
“I will,” you promise. The moment lingers for seconds longer, a million words and promises and declarations dying on both of your lips. You sever them all with the shutting of the car door. 
Heeseung doesn’t drive away, not until the bus arrives. And even then, you swear it’s his car you get fleeting glimpses of in the rearview mirror. 
But a handful of minutes later, Heeseung and his car are nowhere to be seen as you exit at the stop closest to New Haven. With the absence of the sun, there’s a biting chill in the air. Grateful for your jacket, you pull it a bit tighter around your body, suppressing a shudder. 
Glancing down at your phone, you send one final message before taking your last few steps towards the publishing house. 
Going in now. 
Heeseung responds in milliseconds. 
Be safe. 
Raising a fist, it feels a bit odd to knock on the same door you’ve broken into twice in the past twenty-four hours. The irony doesn’t have long to linger. Professor Kim is quick to answer the door and even quicker to usher you inside. 
Tonight, he looks every bit the well-kept professor you grew used to in your classes. With a creaseless button down tucked into dress pants, he might as well be back at the front of the lecture hall.
“Thank you,” he reiterates as he leads you down the hallway. “I appreciate you coming on such short notice.” 
“Of course,” you nod, trying to look as enthusiastic as he wants you to be. “The gravity of the situation is not lost on me. I’m excited to review your edits and get my article published as soon as possible.” 
“Right,” he nods, a bit apologetically. “You’ll have to forgive me, then, but I have something rather important to show you first.”
That makes your brow crease in confusion. Is what he’s showing you not related to your writing?
“What is it?”
Your professor just shakes his head. “I’m afraid words won’t do this justice. Follow me.” 
Beckoning you forward, he leads you to the same room you were poisoned in the first time you visited New Haven. Suppressing a shudder at the memory, you force your footsteps forward, even as your senses start to scream at you in protest. 
Pausing at the door, he turns over his shoulder to look at you. “You’ll be pleased to know that I believe I may have been wrong about Lee Heeseung.”
That sends ice spinning through your veins. You don’t like the sound of Heeseung’s name in his mouth, hate the idea that he’s been so fixated on him. “What do you mean? Wrong in what way?”
“See for yourself,” your professor grins. And then, he opens the door. 
The room is as dim as it was the last time you were here, but this time, your professor is quick to turn on the overhead light. 
But the absence of darkness only reveals a horror much worse than anything you imagined the darkness concealing.  
Because on the opposite side of the room, hunched in the corner, there is a figure illuminated under the harsh fluorescent overhead lighting. 
His system is infused with so much moonflower essence that he can hardly do so much as lift his head. But when he finally finds the strength to do so, you make direct eye contact with Park Sunghoon.  
⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖
note: Hello my loves! I am so happy to finally be able to share this with you all. I know I mentioned before that part of the reason it took so long was because of some recent changes in my life outside of tumblr, but if I'm honest, part of it too was that I was just having a really hard time continuing this story in a way that felt like it did justice to the first three parts.
There are so many moving pieces and things going on, and I really want to make this story come to life in the best way possible. Thank you for being patient with me while I agonized over that internally lol. I hope that this part was worth the wait. Love u all ♡♡♡
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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months ago
Text
For My Husband
Requested Here!
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader (no specific characterization for Jason!)
Summary: Jason has had a lot on his mind, including your relationship. You call him your husband on a night out and suddenly everything makes sense.
Warnings: brief angst, fluff, too many boat analogies? and completely justified grand theft auto
Word Count: 1.5k+ words
Picture from Pinterest/WFA Webtoon (I love him)
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It burns like a searing blade carving deep into him, leaving a scar in its eternally marking wake. The ring in Jason’s pocket grows heavier, weighing on him, and burning him like the scars lining his skin. The same scars you kiss and don’t see as marks but as part of the man you love.
As Jason sits across the table across from you, he thinks about an hour ago when you invited him on a date. He argued at first, not ready to go out in public and be asked about Bruce or see something that reminds him of the time before you. But then you smiled and told him where you wanted to go, your favorite place just outside of town that seemed to attract more tourists or people stopping on their way to Blüdhaven or Metropolis, where Jason wasn’t likely to be recognized or hear someone murmur looks like the Wayne kid. So, he agreed, and now his thoughts drift back further.
Two weeks ago, Jason returned home from a mission with the Outlaws. It was hard on him; there were moments when he thought he lost everything, and the only thing that gave him the strength to fight was the image of coming home to you. Once he was home, he talked about what he could and let your comfort carry away the rest like a tide pulling his worries away to make room for you.
Jason Todd has never felt more like himself than he does in your arms and at peace in your words, your comfort. The last few days of being with you have allowed Jason to realize just how perfect you are, how perfect you are for him. And then he remembers how much he doesn’t deserve you, and the ring gets a little heavier like an anchor, making those tides pointless to do little more than rock his once steady ship.
“What are you getting?” you ask, drawing Jason back to the present.
He looks over the top of his menu, and your smile tugs at him. “The pasta looks good,” he answers. “Hey, since you asked me out does that mean you’re paying?”
You lean forward to whisper, “Which one of us has a card attached to Bruce’s bank account?”
Jason tips his head in defeat, not that he would have let you pay anyway. He’s a gentleman through and through, something you know well, and most of the reason you get the idea to order for him. When the waiter approaches, Jason gestures for you to order first, as always, and you smile at the waiter as you request your favorite meal and a side to share with Jason.
Then, you say, “And my husband will have the pasta.”
You look to him for confirmation, but Jason doesn’t reply. He repeats your words in his mind several times, wondering what you could have possibly said that he misheard as husband. When he decides that there are no other words close enough to 'husband' that fit this context, he looks to the waiter, who is smilingly knowingly with his pencil poised over the order pad.
“Did she say husband?” Jason asks him. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes, you lucky man,” the waiter answers. “Was there anything else I could get you?”
Jason shakes his head as you fight a laugh to say, “That’s all, thank you.”
Repeating your words and voice in his head, Jason can’t think about anything else. You watch him, torn between amusement and love, as he gets lost in his thoughts. Jason thinks of your soft gaze, the gentleness and genuine tone in your voice when you called him my husband, and the weight of the ring shifts. It’s not something holding him down, threatening to pull you down with him when you deserve anything but him, but a proposal that he needs to make. It is his anchor, but it’s anchoring him to you. Until he tells you that and asks you to be his wife, you won’t truly understand what you mean to Jason Todd or how you saved him from himself simply by loving him. So, Jason shakes himself out of his reverie and starts an easy conversation with you. But your voice in his mind continues to remind him of how much he means to you.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped before,” you offer. “Calling you husband.”
“I liked it,” Jason admits with a smile.
“Well, that’s good because I like you.”
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After splitting a dessert, Jason excuses himself to pay the bill and tip your waiter.
“Are you proposing?” the waiter asks as he passes Jason the receipt. “We get a lot of people who propose in the restaurant. There’s a moment of clarity right before it happens, between the nervous movements and the actual proposal, where you can see everything shift into place and make sense.”
“I’m in that moment?” Jason guesses.
“Have been since you recovered from being called her husband, I think.”
Jason nods and answers, “I am proposing tonight. Can’t wait any longer.”
“Congratulations.”
“She could say no.”
The waiter smiles as he steps back and prepares to tend to another table. “She won’t. She had the look too, the undeniable love and desire to be with you long after this date. So, congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Jason returns to your table and takes your hand, gentle and kind as he helps you up and walks side-by-side with you. You’ve seen him fight, seen his scars, and know the level of violence he has and can inflict, but there’s something different in how he touches you. How he handles you, not like you’re fragile but like you are precious and treasured. It’s one of many things that you love about Jason.
“We need to make one little stop, is that okay?” Jason asks as he opens the passenger door of a car he borrowed from Bruce’s garage.
“Of course. But if you want to take the scenic route, you can just say so.”
Jason bends forward to buckle your seatbelt for you, and when his face is inches from yours answers, “Then let’s take the scenic route.”
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Jason parks the car on a hill before he turns off the engine. You’re on Bruce’s property. You know that because Wayne Manor looms in the distance, a dark shape against the nighttime fog of Gotham. Yet you don’t understand why Jason brought you here, especially when you’re almost sure he didn’t get permission to borrow the car you arrived in.
The door beside you opens, and Jason lowers his hand to help you exit. Here, you can see more stars than anywhere else in Gotham, and your eyes find the sky as Jason’s gaze remains on you.
This hill was once an escape for him, one of the only places he could get far enough away from his family to breathe but be close enough to know where they were. When he returned from the Lazarus Pit and took up the mantle of Red Hood, he spent hours standing on the crest and watching Wayne Manor in the distance, as if it would grow closer or Bruce would throw open the door to welcome him home, broken pieces in tow.
“There’s so many stars,” you murmur. “I thought we’d lost them all to the smog.”
“Not all of them,” Jason answers softly, watching the small lights reflect in your eyes. “I’ve always liked it out here.”
You lower your chin away from the sky and turn to face Jason just as he kneels to be on one knee.
“I came out here a lot as a kid, even when I came back, it was one of the only places that I felt like I could belong. Since then, I’ve found that feeling in you. You’re not just who I think I belong with, though…”
You squeeze Jason’s hand gently and step closer to him, your joined hands against your hip.
“I don’t deserve you,” Jason admits. “You’re too good for me, more than I could ever earn or come close to being worthy of.”
You shake your head, but Jason smiles as he adds, “But you’re everything I want, need – crave – and so much more. The night that we met, I knew that you were special, I knew that I wanted to be your husband. I’d lost the ability to do anything good. I couldn’t even sleep without seeing everything I’d done or thought I would do; I couldn’t dream anymore. And then I found you, and you came to me like you knew there was something in me that I couldn’t see. You are my everything, but all I want to be is yours. Will you marry me?”
Wiping the tears falling down your face with your free hand, you answer, “Yes! Yes, Jason. I am yours.”
Jason stands and pulls you into his arms in one fluid movement. His arms are strong around your waist as he lifts you gently and spins you beneath the stars. You loop your arms over his shoulders and cling to him.
“Thank you,” Jason whispers against your shoulder.
After he sets you down and moves his hands to hold your waist, you spread your hand over his heart and ask, “For what?”
Jason smiles in the starlight and answers, “For being my wife.”
You slide your hands up and hold Jason’s jaw, leaning forward to kiss him as you murmur, “Oh, I could get used to hearing that.”
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buzzinrusso · 1 month ago
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Unexplained love
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Based on this request, right here!! I'm actually really proud of this one, so enjoy and keep sending in requests!!
---
Leah had always been there. In ways that you sometimes took for granted, she was your constant, your companion in every chapter of your life. The two of you had known each other since childhood—since before you could even properly remember, when your parents pushed you together on playdates, only for you to bond over something as simple as a soccer ball or a shared joke. What started as an accidental friendship slowly blossomed into something unshakeable, a connection that stretched through every phase of your growth.
Your small town, just outside London, wasn’t a place where people could easily hide, and Leah and you had grown up together in that same tight-knit community. There was a park near the edge of town, and countless hours of your childhood were spent there—hours running around in the summer heat, kicking footballs with Leah, creating games that only made sense to the two of you. When it rained, the park became your personal world of imagination, where your “missions” were anything but typical. You’d build forts out of old tree branches, create treasure hunts, and spend hours lying on the grass, staring at clouds and dreaming about things that didn’t seem to matter—until they did...
Through all of this, Leah was never just a friend. She was more than that. She was someone who saw you for exactly who you were. If you had a rough day, Leah would always know before you even said anything. You didn’t need words when Leah was around. Her presence alone was a comfort. Her laugh was the thing that could break any of your bad moods, and when she spoke about her ambitions—her love for football, her dreams of playing at the professional level—it was like everything in the world could fit together perfectly.
“Promise me you’ll never leave?” you asked one summer day, as you both sat side by side on the park bench. You weren’t sure why you asked it then. But something about the moment, the way the sun filtered through the trees, made you voice the fear that had been growing inside you.
Leah’s hand found yours, her grip tight and comforting. “Promise,” she said, her voice steady as ever, “I’ll never leave.” And as a child, you believed that promise, without hesitation.
---
As time passed, however, things inevitably changed. It wasn’t just the shift from childhood to adolescence that marked a difference—it was the shift within yourself. You had begun to notice the way your feelings for Leah had deepened, but you hadn’t understood them yet. You had no idea how to process the shift, how to handle the overwhelming sensation that you felt when Leah stood a little too close or laughed in that way that made your heart do funny flips.
The first sign came when you were thirteen. Leah had always been fiercely competitive—something you admired—and when she started to take football seriously, you saw the intensity in her eyes that you had never noticed before. The practices, the matches, the way she pushed herself—it was as if she was becoming someone else, someone who had her own dreams, her own future. You were proud of her, but something else stirred within you, something you didn’t know how to explain.
It was subtle, a flicker of jealousy at first. When she’d mention a boy from the team or when she’d laugh at Ryan’s jokes (someone you’d never really paid attention to before), it gnawed at you. You tried to brush it off, to dismiss it, but the feelings grew like a tide that was impossible to outrun.
The first time Leah talked about Ryan, it didn’t seem like anything special. He was a teammate, she said, just a guy she’d been getting to know. But then, as the weeks went on, she began talking about him more often. And every time she did, a strange sensation grew inside you. It wasn’t jealousy, or at least you didn’t think it was, because it wasn’t the kind of jealousy you felt when someone took your favorite toy. This felt like something deeper, more visceral.
And then, the first real break came. You were fifteen, sitting in Leah’s room one late evening, when she told you about her first kiss. She didn’t know why it hurt to hear it, but it did. Leah’s voice was light, but there was a strange ache behind it.
“It wasn’t that special,” she said, brushing it off. But the words hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. You smiled, though it was a half-smile. “That’s great, Leah. You deserve someone who makes you feel special.”
But you didn’t feel special in that moment. You felt empty, and it took everything inside you to push those feelings back down into a place where they could hide—far away from the world. You had never questioned your feelings for her until that moment, but as she laughed about it, something deep inside you cracked open, and you realized: you wanted to be the one who made Leah feel that special.
---
Things came to a head one night that summer when you were sixteen. It had been building for months, like a storm on the horizon, and neither of you had seen it coming. Leah had been talking about football again, her eyes sparkling with the passion that drove her. But you weren’t listening to her words anymore; you were just listening to the rhythm of her voice, to the way the light from the bedside lamp danced in her hair, and to the soft rise and fall of her breath.
“I think I’m actually going to make the team this year,” Leah said, and you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, because for the first time, you were realizing that you didn’t want to lose her to football. You didn’t want her to leave you behind in her pursuit of greatness. You didn’t want to be the one watching her from the sidelines.
Before you knew it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing hers. It was a soft kiss, barely a touch, but it felt like the world had suddenly shifted. For a split second, everything around you blurred, and there was nothing but Leah and the overwhelming flood of emotion that rushed through you.
Leah pulled back immediately, her face pale. You froze, your mind racing, but your body unable to move. Neither of you spoke at first. You both seemed to be trapped in that moment, unable to do anything but stare at each other, unsure of what had just happened.
“I’m sorry,” Leah whispered quickly, her voice panicked. But the words didn’t seem like an apology, not really. They sounded more like a denial, as if she were trying to erase the moment from existence. And in that silence, you felt the weight of it all—felt the fracture forming between you that neither of you had expected but both of you could now see.
---
The next few days passed in a blur. Neither of you mentioned the kiss, but it was always there, lurking in the back of your minds. Leah seemed to pull away even more, immersing herself in football practices and talking more frequently about Ryan. The distance between the two of you was palpable now—every conversation felt strained, like you were both pretending that everything was the same.
In the meantime, you began to focus on Alex, a boy from school who had started to show an interest in you. At first, it was easy to fall into that relationship—he was sweet, he liked you, and he didn’t make you question everything the way Leah did. When Alex kissed you for the first time, it was nothing like Leah’s kiss, and for a moment, you thought you had found a way to forget. But it was fleeting. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Leah’s face, heard her laugh, and felt the ache in your chest that no one but her could fill.
Leah, too, seemed to move on. She and Ryan started spending more time together, laughing, holding hands, and it felt like a sharp knife twisting in your gut every time you saw them together. You wanted to be happy for her, but you couldn’t. The jealousy, the anger—it all bubbled up inside you in a way that made you sick. She wasn’t supposed to be with him. She was supposed to be with you.
---
It was the night everything finally broke open. The tension had been building for weeks, and you couldn’t ignore it anymore. You couldn’t sit by and watch Leah slip further away from you, especially not when you knew, deep down, that you were both still holding on to something neither of you could acknowledge.
You called her late that evening, asking her to meet you at the park. It felt like the only place you both could truly talk without the weight of the world around you. When she arrived, you could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way she avoided looking directly at you. You had been avoiding each other for too long. It was time to confront it.
Leah sat on the swing, pushing herself lightly as she stared down at her feet. The air between you was thick with unspoken words.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked, the frustration in your voice barely masked. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Why are you with him? Why are you pretending nothing happened between us?”
Leah’s face flushed, and her eyes shot up to meet yours. There was something raw in her gaze, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N,” she said, her voice trembling. “You think this is easy for me?”
“I don’t care if it’s easy,” you snapped. “I care that you’re pretending. I care that you’re with him when you know how I feel about you. You know I can’t keep doing this. I’m not okay.”
Leah stood up abruptly, her fists clenched at her sides. “I’m not pretending,” she yelled. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know what to do!”
The words hung in the air like smoke, suffocating the space between you.
“You don’t fix it by running away!” you shouted back, the anger in your chest rising. “You fix it by facing it! By facing what we both know is true. You can’t keep acting like nothing happened, like nothing changed.”
For a moment, Leah looked lost, her eyes softening, the anger and fear giving way to something else. Slowly, cautiously, she took a step toward you, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
“I don’t know how to make this right,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’ve always loved you, Y/N.”
And withthose words, everything seemed to shift in that instant. It was as if a dam had broken, and the flood of emotions you both had been holding back came pouring out, unrestrained and raw.
You felt your heart race in your chest as Leah stood there, her eyes full of uncertainty and longing, just as you felt in that moment. The world around you blurred once again, and all the years of friendship, of confusion, of unspoken feelings, suddenly rushed forward. For a second, neither of you moved, standing in the weight of the silence.
"I never knew how to tell you," Leah whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind rustling the trees around you. "I thought I could just ignore it, just focus on football, focus on anything but us. But I couldn't. I still can’t."
You stepped forward, your breath catching as you tried to process what she was saying. You had always known something was between you two—something deeper, something that you couldn’t explain even to yourself. But hearing her admit it, hearing Leah say she had been holding onto the same feelings, broke something open inside you.
"You’ve always been everything to me, Leah," you replied, the words tumbling out of you, honest and without hesitation. "And I... I’ve been too afraid to tell you. To ruin what we have, what we’ve always had."
Leah took another step closer, her face so close now that you could feel the warmth of her skin, her breath mingling with yours. There was no more distance between you, no more hiding. You could see the vulnerability in her eyes, the same fear that mirrored your own.
"I didn’t want to ruin us either," she said softly, her voice shaking slightly. "But I think... I think we've already ruined it. We've been lying to ourselves for so long, pretending that we don’t feel this way. And I can't do that anymore."
Your heart skipped a beat. "So, what do we do now?"
Leah’s hand reached out, brushing against your cheek gently, her touch soft but electrifying. "I don't know," she whispered, "but I think we should stop pretending. Stop running away from this."
And in that moment, there was no more pretending, no more fear. You could see it in her eyes—this was real. The feelings you’d both buried for so long had finally surfaced, and there was no turning back. There was no more question of whether it was okay to love each other in this way.
Without another word, Leah leaned in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that was tender, slow, and full of everything you had both been too afraid to say. The world around you seemed to fade away, the years of friendship and the years of longing collapsing into something undeniable. This was the moment you’d both been waiting for.
When you finally pulled away, breathless, both of you stood there, your foreheads resting against each other, both a little dazed by what had just happened. The awkwardness that had filled the space between you for weeks was gone, replaced by an undeniable sense of clarity.
"I don’t know how we move forward," you said, still a little shaken. "But I know we can figure it out. Together."
Leah nodded, her hand brushing against your arm as if confirming that, yes, you were in this together now. "I want to figure it out. I want to be with you. I’ve always wanted that."
The reality of it all settled in, and even though neither of you knew exactly what the future would hold, for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like an impossible distance between you. It felt like a beginning. A new chapter.
---
The weeks that followed were filled with challenges, as both of you navigated this new dynamic in your friendship and relationship. The first time you held hands in public was nerve-wracking. You had spent so many years walking side by side without thinking twice about it, but now every touch seemed loaded with meaning. You learned quickly that no one could understand the complexity of what you were going through unless they had been through it themselves.
Leah and you spent hours talking about everything—your feelings, your fears, your hopes for the future. There were times when it felt like the whole world was against you, as if your connection was something so rare and fragile that it could slip away in an instant. There were people who didn’t understand, people who made assumptions or doubted your bond. But it didn’t matter. You knew that what you shared was real, and in the end, that was all that mattered.
Football was still a big part of Leah’s life. She threw herself into it with all the passion and drive she had always had. But now, you were there with her, standing on the sidelines, cheering her on—not just as her friend, but as someone who saw her in a new light. You were proud of her. Proud of her achievements, her strength, and the way she managed to balance her dreams with this new chapter in her life.
You, too, found new ways to grow. No longer hiding from the truth of your feelings, you learned to love yourself alongside loving her. You found strength in your vulnerability, in the openness that came with finally admitting what you both wanted. Sometimes, it was hard, and there were moments where you both doubted yourselves. But the foundation of your relationship was built on years of trust, of shared memories, and a deep, unshakeable connection. That was something neither of you could ignore.
The world around you started to shift, too. You both made new friends, met new people, and began to embrace the future with all the uncertainty it held. It wasn’t always easy—relationships, especially ones like yours, took time, effort, and constant communication. But you were learning how to do it, together.
Leah and you spent many more nights under the stars, just as you had when you were children, talking about everything and nothing. You had both been through so much, and yet, somehow, you knew that the hardest parts were already behind you. It was just a matter of building something new, something that was yours alone.
And in those quiet moments, you found peace in knowing that whatever the future held, you had each other. That was enough. Enough to weather the storms, to face the unknown, and to finally, truly be free to love each other in the way you had always known was meant to be.
---
Years later, when you both looked back on those early days, you couldn’t help but laugh at the way things had unfolded. The confusion, the fear, the uncertainty—all of it had led to this point. You and Leah had grown, individually and together, stronger than either of you could have ever imagined.
Leah’s name was well-known in the football world now, and you had found your own path in a career that fulfilled you. But no matter where life had taken you, Leah had always been there—by your side, the one constant in a world full of changes.
And as you stood on the edge of the field one evening, watching Leah train for an upcoming match, you knew one thing for certain: there was no one else you’d rather face the future with. Your love, built on years of friendship, had become the foundation of everything you were. Together, you were unstoppable.
And that was how you had always meant to be—together.
---
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endless-ineffabilities · 7 months ago
Text
Chemical Override (bonus chapter)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: surprise! Something to tide you guys over until the heart-wrencher that is part five!! Y'know, gotta have some laughs before everything blows up 💣 or something like that :)
previous chapter ▪︎ series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
What happens when your castmates decide to have a drinking game based on yours and Ewan's interviews? Chaos. Absolute chaos.
"Is it just me or does my head look abnormally large in this?" comes Tom's query as they sit on the floor around the low table in Phia's living room.
Phia, Tom, and Olivia are snug on the carpet, legs strewn in varying postions, their attention on the laptop on the table.
"No, just you, mate," Phia responds.
"Nah, look at 'im," Olivia counters, "Looking like a right old egghead."
"I knew it," Tom clicks his tongue, smiling at the jab.
The friends were just having a nice time catching up in Phia's apartment, and after several coffees and rolled cigarettes, they found themselves nestled on the floor, beers in hand.
Someone made a suggestion to check up on the interviews being released as part of the media rollout. And so they watched the cast's interviews, already having done with the one from Wired, MTV, and the Buzzfeed Puppy Interview.
"I loved those pups," Olivia remarked jokingly. "But they didn't love me back. Story of my life."
"Oh, I love you, Liv!" Phia had exclaimed, pulling her friend in for a hug.
"Aaanyway," Phia says, reaching forward and scrolling through the suggested videos, "how about this one next! I miss those two." She clicks on an interview you and Ewan had done together, in that long press day where you guys were paired by the media team.
"They look adorable, don't they?" Tom says. "Here's to hoping the lad's finally made a bloody move."
"What about the goss on that girl you all were with? The one at the pub?" Olivia curiously asks, not kept in the loop due to her holiday abroad.
"All bull. You know how the tabloids are. She was sweet and everything but Ewan was practically side-eyeing her all the way into oblivion when she kept clinging on his arm. Poor girl." Tom smirks, the memory still fresh in his mind.
"Awww, look! Ewan's looking at her all gooey-eyed. Even then!" Phia simpers, leaning against Olivia.
"Of course, I was extremely excited and nervous to join the cast for season two," you can be heard saying, "being a huge fan of the book and the first season... I mean, it was such a tall order for me to step into this world but you know - "
"She did it so flawlessly," Ewan says to the interviewer. "We were so lucky to have her join the show."
"Oh, come on," you can't help but blush and shake your head. "Everyone was so welcoming, really."
"Well, it's safe to say that the audience loves your character!" the interviewer says kindly.
"Thank you so much, I'm glad to hear that," you beam in return.
"What a character, indeed," Ewan says, looking at you again.
Tom giggles, swinging his beer, "The look on his face, oh my days! Ewan is whi-ipped, I'm telling you. Just look at those stars in his eyes, you'd think she's an angel or somethin."
"She is an angel," Phia muses.
"Lovely girl," Olivia agrees.
"Oh!" Tom sits upright suddenly, leaning forward on his knees, "How about this? They've got a couple interviews up, right? Drinking game then, shall we? A shot each time Ewan looks at her or pays her a compliment!"
Olivia laughs nervously, but she's more than game to participate. "A swig of beer or... "
"Nah!" Tom scrunches his face in response. "Say, Phi, have you got vodka or tequila or whatever?"
"I... think I've got some leftover tequila," she ponders. "Are you proposing a shot of tequila every time Ewan fawns over her? Isn't that a bit dangerous? Should we stick to beer?"
"It'll be fun," Tom reassures, already getting on his feet to fetch the bottle from the kitchen. "Ewan's a professional," he says, when he returns with tequila and three shot glasses. "Surely he maintained his focus during all of that. Can't be more than - what, three or four shots each?"
Oh, how wrong he is.
It only takes another interview for them to realise that they might have been overzealous in taking on the challenge.
Most Likely To with the cast of House of the Dragon, the screen displays. You and Ewan pop up in intervals, and they eagerly await your clips with shots in hand.
"Most likely to be late on set?" you say, raising your hands when you answer with, "I'm happy to say that it was not me."
"No?" Ewan asks.
"Nope, early each day," you smile at him.
"I believe you, I mean, I wish we actually had scenes together," Ewan says, smiling right back, eyes lingering on you when you add something more to your answer.
"Shot!" Tom exclaims. The trio's faces crunch up when the burning liquid slides down their throats.
"Fuck's sake," Olivia mutters. "Ewan better keep his googly eyes to himself."
"Don't get your hopes up," Phia says, knowing the both of you well.
"Most likely to accidentally date a serial killer? What the hell is this question?" Ewan snorts, eyebrows shooting up.
"Are we even in the right show for this?" you joke, and Ewan laughs harder, his hand finding your forearm and squeezing briefly.
"Shot, I suppose," Phia mumbles. "I mean, look at his face, the sweetheart."
Another round, and everyone feels warmer and more lightheaded.
"Wouldn't be me, I don't know about you?" you ask Ewan.
"Oh, I wouldn't. I don't think Aemond would either, he would see right through that."
"Next, most likely to show up in a stunning outfit," you read from the prompts off-camera.
"Hmm," Ewan muses, "I would say maybe Liv Cooke... she's had really good outfits on the carpet lately..."
"I agree," you nod enthusiastically. "Liv's killing it."
"And you, definitely," Ewan turns to you again. "I mean, stunning would be an understatement."
"Shot!" Olivia half-yells. "And bless her, look! She's turned all red from Ewan's flirting."
"Thanks, mate," you say, tilting your head at him. "You as well! Your stylists have outdone themselves this press tour, for sure."
"Half a shot cause she gives something his way?" Tom suggests, comically shrugging. By the end of the video, the group had done three and a half rounds of shots, all growing redder in the face, their laughter turning unhinged.
"I'm actually scared to do another interview," Olivia groans. "Can those two just shag each other already? Goodness!"
"Who knows? Maybe they have? Would be about time," Tom cheekily says, ever the agent of chaos.
"Ewan did fly out to see her," Phia nods. "They're both in America right now, my darlings."
"Another interview!" Tom gets to clicking, landing on the one you and Ewan did with Rotten Tomatoes.
"We ask everyone this question - can you tell me your favourite movie from this year?" is what the interviewer starts with.
"That's a good question," Ewan says. "Uhhmm, well, it isn't from this year I think but her film - " he gestures to you, " - is one of my all-time favourites. I think it came out late last year, if I'm not mistaken?" He looks to you for confirmation, and your flustered self manages to hum a response. "I just think the whole film was brilliant. It definitely showcases her talents and solidifies her as one to watch."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Tom sighs, and they all bring the shot glasses back to their lips.
"Guys, I might pass out by the end of this." Olivia stands to fetch herself a glass of water. "Ewan's a menace!" she calls out from the kitchen.
"We shouldn't have done this," Tom shakes his head.
"You suggested it!" Phia punches his arm, laughing.
"I guess I underestimated the degree of whipped that Ewan is. That cheeky lad."
Four more rounds of shots later, and the group has their tally up to eight and a half.
Yet another interview plays on the screen, and when Ewan - with all his bloody audacity - pushes a lock of hair away from your face on camera, Tom's eyes nearly bulge right out of his head.
"Oh my god!" he cries out. "He's trying to kill us! I think I'm actually going to puke."
"I quit." Olivia slumps against the base of the velvet couch. "I can't drink any more. Ewan wins."
Phia giggles at the screen, at the sight of her two dear friends slowly but surely falling in love right before the audience's eyes. In some show of celebration, she takes another shot, the last player left in the game.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Meanwhile across the Atlantic...
"Hey, darling," you hear Ewan's voice on the other line. "I just settled in my hotel in New York."
"That's good! Did your flight go well?"
"Mhmm, my meeting's tomorrow afternoon so I've got time to prepare," he takes a breath, before softly saying, "I miss you."
You laugh, "So you keep telling me, Mitchell."
"We're still on that huh, darling? Shouldn't you be calling me something more... personal, by now?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
"Well... the internet does call you their babygirl."
"Oh come on," he complains, smiling nevertheless.
"What is it, babygirl?"
"That's how you want to play it, bunny?"
"Ewan!" you groan. "Okay, okay."
"Anyway, darling," he says. "I really do miss you. I can't wait to see you again.'
The longing is clear in his voice and it tugs at your heart so much that you need to pause and collect yourself, before finally saying, "I miss you too, baby."
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Cheers to all of yous who voted here! Baby it is ~
In the meantime...
Update! ~ part five
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lovebugism · 7 months ago
Note
hi! i saw you were looking for some eddie requests for your summer fic fest and i have a wee lightbulb
friends to lovers pool day with eddie where a) he’s never seen the reader in a swimsuit before and his head is short circuiting and b) rhey apply each other’s sunscreen and they’re all blushy and UGH
thank you for the request angel :D — you and eddie have trouble pretending you aren't in love with each other while at a beach day with the gang (friends to lovers, grumpy!eddie, grumpy!reader-ish | 1.6k)
bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)
The white sand is warm and heavy on Eddie’s feet. He buries them beneath the soft granules until his ankles are covered — until the fine grains, now heated by the merciless summer sun, start to burn his pale, delicate skin. It hurts less than how much he misses you, anyway. 
Ten minutes gone, and it feels like an entire lifetime has passed without you. Eddie’s left grieving about it, like a gloomy stormcloud beneath a very blue sky. His soft features are screwed into a very boyish pout that will likely stain his face the rest of the day. Or until you coddle him, whichever comes first.
“Jesus— Did you guys get lost on the way to the room or somethin’?” Steve Harrington chuckles from where he sits a few longue chairs down, dark eyes peeking over the tops of his darker sunglasses. 
Eddie’s head whips over his shoulder to follow his gaze. His heart swells into his throat at the sight of you.
You and Robin walk side by side, kicking up grains of white sand as you go, and looking like total opposites. The latter’s lean, freckled figure is adorned with a pair of jean shorts that go down to her knees and a plain black sports bra instead of a real bikini. 
Your sunkissed skin, meanwhile, clashes just perfectly with the pretty white two-piece you wear — patterned with an array of fruits and flowers. Peaches and oranges and strawberries. Daisies and hydrangeas and lavenders. The cups are a size too small for your breasts. The bottoms sit high up on your waist to display the expanse of your plush thighs.
Eddie forgets how to breathe.
“We got lost on the way to the gift shop, actually,” you quip when you’re in earshot again, squinting one eye to block the sun.
“Yeah,” Robin grouses. “’Cause you forgot to pack the sunscreen, Stevie.”
The boy’s scruffy face screws into a cartoonish look of offense. “You said you were bringing it!” he argues, gesturing to you with a wild hand.
“No— I said I was bringing everything else and that your one job was to remember the sunscreen.”
Steve settles back into his seat then — likely with the acknowledgment that he had, in fact,  forgotten the only thing he was supposed to do. “Oh…” he grimaces sheepishly. “Sorry…”
“It’s okay,” you sigh.
“You owe me seven dollars, though,” Robin monotones, then turns suddenly away. Her chopped locks swish around her shoulders as she squints at the water. “Here, Nance! Catch!” she shouts. The rest of you flinch at the volume of her voice.
The brunette girl looks over her shoulder from where she wades in the water with Jonathan (who’s still getting over his fear of open water, it seems, as he grips onto the girl’s hand for dear life.) Her sharp features pinch in a distant look of confusion. “What?!” she shouts back, tucking a rogue curl behind her ear when it billows in her face.
Robin opts to throw her the bottle of sunscreen, even though her eyesight’s almost as bad as her hand-eye coordination. The thing lands several feet away from its intended recipient — momentarily succumbed to the tides until Jonathan retrieves it from underwater.
In the split second of following silence, you turn to look at Eddie, who’s been uncharacteristically silent since you walked up. His face is all screwed like he’s pouting as his chocolate gaze darts up and down your form. 
“What’s wrong with you?” you ask him, laughing.
His eyes make one more pass over your body — savoring the sight of your bare thighs and tummy and chest — ‘cause he’s never seen so much of you before. “Did you walk all the way to the gift shop like that?” he deadpans.
You bounce a sunkissed shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Yeah?”
“…You didn’t break any necks on the way back, did you?” he teases, peering at you beneath his long lashes in a playfully solemn look.
Your chest warms with something more sparkling than a burn from the sun. You roll your eyes and avert your gaze to the bottle of sunblock in your fist. “Shut up and turn around,” you grumble.
Eddie watches you squeeze a dollop of lotion onto your palm and protests, “I’ll put some on my tattoos, but that’s it.”
“Putting sunscreen just on your tattoos doesn’t count,” you monotone.
“I hate the feeling of it, though…” he complains.
“Don’t care,” you lilt with a sweet smile. “Now turn around.”
Eddie concedes with less arguing than you’d expect. 
He huffs and turns his back to you, pretending to be annoyed to cover up how giddy he truly is. He knows there’s something deeper in your badgering — people don’t get so concerned about something as silly as sunscreen for people they don’t give a shit about. The thought makes his heart beat a little faster.
You warm the lotion between your palms before spreading it over his shoulders. His pale skin, glowing softly red already, is spotted with sparse freckles you could count if you wanted to.
Eddie tenses under your touch. “It’s cold,” he whines.
“Stop being a baby and move your hair outta the way.”
He grumbles like a storm cloud and parts his curls over his shoulders for you. Your hands trace the expanse of his back in a softer touch than he thought anyone was capable of. His skin buzzes accordingly.
You slap him hard on the arm a second alter. “There. All done.”
“Your turn,” Eddie insists, perhaps a hair too quickly to be casual, as he rises from the creaking longue chair. He manhandles you in front of him with gentle hands. Your feet shuffle in the sand as you let him.
“Fine— But don’t be annoying about it,” you scold with a stern look over your shoulder, passing the plastic bottle behind you.
Eddie scoffs. “Never once crossed my mind,” he promises, very playfully sincere, as he squirts a heavy glob of sunblock onto his palm. 
The cream is cold and heavy as he presses into your skin. You grimace, “Eddie!”
“What?” he exclaims in a similar tone, then smiles wickedly to himself. “It’s just sunscreen— don’t be such a baby.”
“That’s gonna take forever to rub in. You know that, right?”
“More fun for me,” he shrugs.
“Perv.”
“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”
He pokes you hard in the shoulder. You flash him a glare. “Don’t be such a freak.”
Eddie laughs as he rubs the sunscreen into your skin — warm and sunkissed and supple under his guitar-string-calloused fingers. His thumbs dip at your lower back, and he has to remind himself to breathe. It’s hard to, though, with his heart in his throat and all. 
When the lotion’s sufficiently melted into your skin, he pats you twice on the waist. “There. See? Easy peasy,” he teases. “I’d put some on your legs, too, but I don’t wanna be too forward.”
You scoff and sit in the beach chair beside him, feet in the sand as you stay facing him. “I think I got it from here, Eds. Thanks, though.”
“Figured,” he sighs and settles into his own seat. 
He tilts his chin to his shoulder, squeezing one eye shut from the sun. He watches you smooth sunblock over your thighs and tries to find something to say in the meantime. He struggles to make the words out, though, so he ends up just staring at you for several long moments.
“That’s, uh— That is a real cute bathing suit, though,” he ends up stammering. “Just, you know, by the way.”
You smear lotion over your calf with careful hands and peer at him beneath your lashes. “I figured that from your ogling,” you tease with a knowing smirk.
Eddie squirms. “Well… What about me, huh? I don’t get a compliment?”
You sit up straight again, trying not to smile too wide. “Well, you look very cute today, Eddie Spaghetti,” you lilt in a mocking tone, ‘cause sincerity’s never been your strong suit.
“Just today?” he murmurs, flashing you a doe-eyed look of expectancy.
“Maybe a little extra today,” you squint.
Eddie huffs and looks away, crossing his bare arms over his chest. His boyish dramatics are obviously meant to make a point, but really, it just gives you a chance to ogle at his happy trail without him noticing.
“Well, I think you’re pretty all the time,” he pouts.
“Shut up,” you laugh, cheeks warming.
“I’m serious!” he insists, then grows playfully sheepish. “But obviously, you don’t feel the same way—”
“Eds.”
“—Obviously, I think you’re unconditionally perfect, and you think I’m only perfect with conditions. It’s fine.”
You blink at him for several long moments, glare unwavering. Eddie maintains his pout in spite. “You’re just fishing for a compliment now, aren’t you?” you deadpan.
Eddie thinks for a moment, then nods. “A little bit. Yeah,” he confesses.
You rise from your seat with a huff, shaking your head and rubbing excess sunblock between your palms. Your body looms beside him. He can smell the coconut-strawberry concoction on your sunkissed skin from here. The summer sun shines in rays behind your head like a halo. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute, Munson,” you sigh in a honeyed voice before bending at the waist to kiss his cheek. 
Your lips just barely brush his glowing skin. He’s left buzzing about it anyway when you walk away from him, hardly apologetic for the state you’ve left him in.
He tries to come up with some stupid rebuttal to shout at you, but nothing comes to mind quick enough. His brain is full of nothing but static. He’s got a frog in his throat, too. He couldn’t say anything if he tried.
So, instead, Eddie watches silently as you saunter towards the tide with his wild head tilted to his shoulder, admiring the pretty view. (He’s not talking about the water.)
916 notes · View notes
misswynters · 7 months ago
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As the Tides Turn
Aeron Bracken x fem!reader x Davos/Benjicot Blackwood
[warnings: mdni (18+), kissing, cunilingus, blowjob, implied anal?, double penetration, riding, breeding, pronebone, rough sex, creampie, aeron & benji makeout(mxm), mating press, reverse cowgirl, degrading, praising, aftercare, fingering, barely any plot, threesome
[word count: 4.1k
[a/n: i said it was going to be short drabble, but it took a turn for the better. also let me know if i missed something. there could very well be misspellings and such, so caution!
similar | Weirwood Whispers | Surrender |
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Tensions were heavy at Raventree Hall, the ancestral seat of House Blackwood. The grand castle, surrounded by ancient weirwoods, was a place of mystery and power. Tonight, it was also a place of passion and conflict. You had been caught in a whirlwind of emotions ever since arriving at the castle. Your presence had not gone unnoticed by Davos Blackwood and Aeron Bracken, two men whose rivalry was legendary. The animosity between the houses of Blackwood and Bracken was as old as the trees that surrounded the castle, but tonight, that rivalry took on a new, more personal dimension.
It had started innocently enough, with shared glances and lingering touches. You had first met with Davos, sharing a moment of passion together. Then came Aeron who only had the goal of giving you what you needed. Aeron had been the first to approach you since then, his charm and roguish smile making it easy to fall into his arms. The night had deepened, and one thing led to another until you found yourself in his chambers, the heat of his body pressing against yours.
Aeron's hands roamed your body with a hunger that matched your own. His lips found yours, and the kiss quickly became a battle for dominance.
Just as you were losing yourself in the moment, the door to Aeron's chamber burst open. Davos stood in the doorway, his eyes dark with fury. He had known something was amiss, but seeing you with Aeron ignited a rage within him that he struggled to contain.
"What in the Seven Hells is going on here?" Davos' voice was a low growl, filled with anger and betrayal.
You and Aeron froze, the reality of the situation crashing down upon you. He moved to shield you, but Davos was already striding into the room, his fists clenched at his sides.
"Aeron, you bastard," Davos spat, his eyes locked onto his rival. "How dare you touch them!"
Aeron, ever the provocateur, met Davos’ gaze with a defiant smile. "They came to me willingly, Blackwood. Can you say the same?"
Davos’ temper flared, and he lunged at Aeron, pulling him away from you and slamming him against the wall. He looked into his eyes with an unknown amount of tension. The two men grappled, their struggle a physical manifestation of the centuries-old enmity between their houses.
"Enough!" you cried, your voice cutting through the tension. "It’s always this fighting.”
Both men paused, their eyes turning to you. You stood there, vulnerable yet strong, a force that drew them both despite their hatred for each other. "Davos," you said, your voice softer now, "Aeron and I... we love each other, but it doesn't change how I feel about you."
Davos’ anger faltered, replaced by a deep hurt. He released Aeron, who staggered back, rubbing his jaw where Benjicot had struck him.
"You know…you don't have to choose," Aeron said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "We can share them." The suggestion hung in the air, charged with a forbidden allure. Davos’ eyes flicked between you and Aeron, his jealousy warring with his desire.
"Can you accept that?" you asked Davos, stepping closer to him. "Can you share me?"
Davos’ jaw clenched, but he nodded. "If it's what you want."
You looked at both men, your heart pounding in your chest. "Then, come to me." Slowly, tentatively, they approached you. Aeron was the first to touch you, his hands sliding over your bare skin, igniting a fire that had only been momentarily extinguished. Davos followed, his touch more hesitant but no less passionate.
The three of you moved together, a tangle of limbs and desire. Aeron kissed you deeply, his hands guiding you near the bed, while Davos’ lips trailed down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.
The sensation of both men touching you, their hands exploring every inch of your body, was overwhelming. You moaned softly, the sound spurring them on. Aeron positioned himself behind you, his hands on your hips, while Davos moved in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours.
"You are mine," Aeron murmured against your ear, his voice thick with desire. "Tonight."
“Ours.” Davos corrected, his anger now a distant memory.
Their words sent a shiver down your spine, and you surrendered to the moment. Aeron's hands were firm and demanding, guiding you back against him, while Davos’ touch was gentle, almost reverent.
Aerons began to lift the hem of your nightgown, finding the sweet spot that was craving to be touched. He started to tease you, moving his fingers everywhere except inside. You whined in bliss. As you were trying to find his hand, the boy in front of you grabbed it. Stopping you from doing anything.
“Nuh-uh sweetheart, what do you think you are doing?” Davos was glaring at you as his eyes darkened with a smirk in his face. “We will take our time with you.” He then began his attack on your nape and Aeron continued his teasing.
After a few moments, Davos took your hand and guided you towards the bed. Aeron took a seat at the center of it, with his back against the headboard. You soon found yourself on top of Aeron, straddling him as you slowly moved your clothed hips with a slow pace. The clothes began have yet to get discarded, yet you could very evidently feel him. Davos, on the other hand started to untie the knots of your flimsy night gown, taking it off your body and tossed it on the floor. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as he thrusts his hips towards you with need. You could feel his hardness laying against your ass. The two men were desperate to get inside of you, however they were trying to take their time. As you started to relief aeron from his trousers, you began to kiss his neck. A small moan could be heard as you finally took his tip into your hand.
Aeron then fully removed his trousers and tossed them aside, his hands falling back to your hips. “Need you…” he panted heavily against your ear. as your chests touched. The heat between you was intense, every touch, every kiss, a testament to the desire you both felt.
Davos stopped his actions and watched, his eyes dark with a mix of jealousy and desire. His breathing grew heavier as he observed you and Aeron, the sight of you lost in pleasure stirring something primal within him. He couldn't deny the pull any longer, already removing his trousers as well.
With a deep breath, Davos joined you both in the act as he came closer. He positioned himself behind you once more, his hands sliding up your back and over your shoulders, grounding you with his touch. The warmth of his body pressed against yours as his lips found the nape of your neck once again, kissing and biting it gently. The dark haired boy began to slowly push your chest towards Aeron’s, making the both you lay on the bed. Davos continued to press his hand as it trailed down your spine until it laid on the curve of your back. His hips finally started to move against your other sweet spot, with a slight tease. Though he had yet to push his cock into you.
The sensation of being between the two men was overwhelming. Aeron's grinding movements beneath you became more rapid, his grip tightening on your hips. He started to move you upwards so he can thrust his cock into you from below. His hands started to spread you cheeks to give Davos a better view of his cock thrusting inside of you, a teasing smile creeping up on his lips.
Davos hands roamed your body, caressing your skin as he pressed himself against you, his arousal evident. "You're so beautiful," Davos murmured against your ear, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and desire. "We want to make you feel everything. Every part of us."
Aeron's hands moved to your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples as he thrusted harder. The combined sensations were too much, and you cried out, your body trembling with pleasure.
Davos hand slid down to your pussy, his fingers joining inside of you as Aeron's movements began to intensify. You gasped, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. The two men worked in perfect harmony, their hands and bodies bringing you closer to the edge.
With a final, desperate cry, you came, your body shaking with the force of your release. Aeron followed soon after, his grip on your hips tightening as he shot his cum into you. Davos’ touch was the last to leave you, his fingers trailing down your spine as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.
“It’s my turn with them,” He said as he sat up on his knees and he watched you needlessly. “Alone. Now move.” He stood there glaring at Aeron to move, and he did. He pulled you away from his body as Davos grabbed you by the waist. Picking you up like you were light as a feather.
Davos took his turn with you, his strength and urgency making it clear how deeply he desired you. He placed you down back in the bed, making you face the hot mattress. You were now underneath him, his body pressing into yours with a passionate intensity. His hands explored every inch of your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. He pushed his tip between your folds with a antagonising motion, that left you gasping for air. He was trying to remain calm, urging himself not to let go of his slow pace.
However Davos movements became more intense, his hips gaining momentum and started to pound against yours with a delicious rhythm. His hands moved to your breasts, teasing and kneading them as he buried his face in your hair, his breath hot against your neck. His kisses grew more fervent, his teeth grazing your skin as he moved lower, his hands exploring every inch of your body. Davos’ hand went down towards your folds playing with you once again. Pushing two fingers inside which left them already soaking, thanks to your first orgasm. His fingers continued this rapid pace, the squelching noises combined with your moans and his grunts, could be heard across the room. As the sensations were almost too much to bear, you cried out, your body trembling with the intensity of your pleasure.
Aeron on the other hand was relieving himself to his view. Although he couldn’t bare at the thought of sharing you with his rival, Davos, he couldn’t help but feel aroused.
You were starting to get tired as he impossibly picked up the pace, which was making a white ring develop around the base of his cock. Pushing the cum that aeron released earlier, further inside. He grasp onto your hair and pushed you deeply against the mattress as he almost pulled out and pushed himself in. The noises got louder and so did your moans, gripping the sheets with intense pleasure until your knuckles turned white. “Don’t let go just yet” he whispered, focusing on making sure you had the most pleasurable experience.
You hummed in response, too cock drunk to say a word. Davos plunged his hips into you after fully pulling out, splitting you open on his thick cock. He started to coo at your adorable attempts to trying to squirm away from his staggering thrusts. "Poor princess, are you regretting your decision…”
You hummed at his words without thinking, spit pooling in your mouth from being fucked so good that you couldn't even remember to swallow anymore. “N-no” you moaned.
He pushed your head into the mattress, as he treated your body like his personal fleshlight. The dark haired man groaned at how wet you were and the squelching sounds your cunt made. It was so filthy that it got him throbbing more and more inside of you.
“Look at this Aeron,” the boy chuckled as he spread your ass cheeks to reveal how wet you were. “Wish this was you, huh.” he grunted, voice trembling from how soft and wet your walls were around his cock. Davos slowed down as he sat in his knees, looking back at Aeron to see why he wasn’t responding.
“Are you seriously going to just stand there, pleasuring yourself like a horny bastard.” he spoke as he caressed your back as your breath began to calm.
“You said it was your turn,” Aeron rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You blackwood cunt.”
Filling with rage once again, Davos pulled out of you making your walls contract harshly. He got off the bed and walked over towards the blonde, menacingly staring at him.
He took his hand and took a grasp of Aeron’s blond locks, yanking his head against his. “Say it again” He dared staring into his eyes, with a gazed look. The boy gulped nervously as he looked at him. One thing lead to another and they both leaned in for a feverishly long kiss. Luckily, you got to catch your breathe before they were reminded that you were there.
They both pulled out from their kiss, panting and grasping for air. “Your turn, but i can’t promise to keep my hands to myself.” Davos pushed aeron by his waist towards you, following closely behind.
“Come here, ___” The raven-haired boy commanded, and you did. You walked up to them looking at their hunger-filled eyes.
Aeron reached out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face before leaning in to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His mouth moved against yours with a demanding urgency, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. He continued kissing you as he sat on the bed, at the same spot as earlier.
Behind you, Davos watched, his gaze filled with a mix of jealousy and longing. His presence was a steady, comforting force, contrasting sharply with Aeron's intense passion.
Davos stepped closer, his fingers lightly grazing your arm before moving to your waist, his touch sending shivers of anticipation through your body.
Aeron's kisses grew more fervent, his lips and tongue exploring yours with an insatiable need. His broad shoulders and powerful frame pressed against you, enveloping you in his warmth. The rugged knight's hands roamed your back, pulling you tightly against him as he deepened the kiss.
The sensation of being kissed so passionately by Aeron while Davos’ skilled fingers explored your body was amazingly satisfying. You moaned softly into Aeron's mouth, your body arching into their combined touch. The noble knight's fingers moved higher, brushing against your folds, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips.
Aeron's kisses became more urgent, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he devoured you with a fierce intensity.
The handsome rogue's hands gripped your waist, holding you steady as Davos’ fingers found your cunt. He curled his fingers inside you, pressing against that spot that made you see stars, while his thumb circled your sensitive nub. Aeron's lips found your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "Do you like this? Do you like being touched by both of us?"
You could only moan in response, your body trembling with the intensity of your pleasure. The passionate knight's kisses trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he marked you as his.
You straddled Aeron, the Bracken Lord, with your back facing him. His broad shoulders tensed beneath you as you positioned yourself over him. The fierce lover's hands gripped your hips, guiding you into place. The sensation of him filling you was intense, and you let out a soft moan as you settled your folds between his cock.
Aeron's hands moved to your waist, steadying you as you began to move. His touch was both firm and gentle, guiding your hips as you rocked back and forth. His breathing grew heavier, matching the pace of your movements.
Davos’ eyes were fixed on yours, a look of pure hunger in his gaze. In front of you, he watched intently. The noble knight's presence was a grounding force as he stood by, his eyes never leaving the two of you. As you began to ride Aeron with a steady rhythm, Davos stepped closer to Aeron, his hands finding the blonde’s face. With a mix of desire and possessiveness, he drew Aeron's lips to his, engaging in a deep, passionate kiss.
The room was filled with the sounds of your soft moans, your cunt squelching, Aeron's heavy breaths, and the quiet whispers of their exchanged kisses. As you continued to ride Aeron, your body moving in a rhythm that drove you both wild, you could feel Aeron's hands gripping you tighter, his touch becoming more insistent.
The kiss between him and Davos was passionate, their lips and tongues exploring each other with a deep hunger. Aeron's eyes occasionally flickered to you, filled with a raw intensity that only heightened your pleasure. You leaned forward, resting your hands on his thighs for a better angle. Davos hands roamed over Aeron's chest, his touch both tender and possessive.
Aeron's thrusts upward met your downward motions, creating a rhythm that drove you both to the brink of ecstasy. The Bracken Lord's lips remained locked with Davos, their kiss a blend of passion and urgency.
You could feel yourself reaching your peak, the combined force of Aeron's thrusts and Davos’ kiss creating a whirlwind of pleasure. Aeron's grip on your hips was unwavering, his hips becoming more frantic as he neared his release. He was moaning against his lips.
The raven-haired lord's hands moved to your hips, guiding you down onto the bed. You lay back propped up on your elbows, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and desire. Aeron positioned himself between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours as he lowered himself down. The fierce lover's touch was gentle yet insistent, his fingers finding your cunt and slipping inside, preparing you for what was to come.
Davos, the noble knight, moved behind you, his hands caressing your shoulders. His touch was a soothing balm, grounding you as Aeron's fingers worked their magic. The handsome rogue's touch was expert, each movement driving you wild with need. You moaned softly, your body arching into his touch, your core aching for more.
Aeron's eyes met Davos, a silent agreement passing between them. The Bracken Lord removed his fingers, positioning himself at your entrance. He entered your wet folds slowly, his broad shoulders tensing as he slid easily inside, his eyes never leaving yours. The sensation was intense, your body adjusting to his size as he filled you completely. He then settled your legs on his shoulders, drawing you closer to him and lifting you up.
Behind you, Davos positioned himself, his hands gripping your hips as he prepared to join Aeron.
The stalwart defender's touch was firm yet gentle, his fingers caressing your skin as he positioned himself alongside Aeron. You felt a moment of tension, your body tensing in anticipation before Davos began to push inside, slowly and carefully as Aeron pulled out. They both took turns with your folds, pushing each others cum back inside you.
࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗  ࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗  
You have completely lost track of how long the three of you have been fucking. You had countless orgasms and the two rivals were sure taking their time with you. After taking a good break, the tension began to rise again. Sooner or later, Aeron moved with a rhythm as your breasts bounced with each thrust that began to get harder than the last. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you deep and unbreakable. He pulled your hips down harder against his every time you tried to pull away, your orgasm coming near for the fourth time. Davos helped him by snapping your hips downwards.
“I need to make sure you are ready for later, so you might feel a bit full,” “But you can take it, right?”
You nodded as your head hanged from Aeron’s shoulders. Davos began to push over digits against your other hole. The way you were hugging his finger was going to drive him crazy. He bite his lip trying to refrain from moaning. “Fucking shut,” he exclaimed to himself. “You are tighter than before”
࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗  ࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗  
His dark eyes were intense, filled with a mix of hunger and determination as he prepared to take you. You laid back on the bed, your body eagerly anticipating the sensation of his touch.
Meanwhile, Aeron, the Bracken Lord, was already settled behind you. His hands gripped your shoulders as you laid there before him, your lips wrapped around his throbbing cock. The fierce lover's hands tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you worked to please him.
Davos approached with a firm but gentle hand, lifting your legs and positioning them to touch your chest. The Black Knight's hands were rough but skilled as he guided you into place, his touch eliciting a soft gasp from you. You felt the anticipation building as he aligned himself with your folds, his eyes locked on yours as he prepared to claim you.
The feeling of Davos's thick cock pressing against you was delicious. You let out a soft moan, the sound muffled by Aeron's length as you continued to suck him with a steady rhythm. Davos's hands gripped your hips firmly as he slowly pushed inside, his movements deliberate and controlled. As he filled you, you could feel the heat of his body against yours, his rugged frame creating a stark contrast to Aeron's more refined presence. The Black Knight's thrusts were deep and powerful, each one driving you closer to the edge.
Aeron's hands gripped your hair tighter, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched you pleasuring him. His fingers occasionally brushed against your skin, heightening the pleasure of his own experience. The Bracken Lord's moans and groans mingled with Davos's grunts and your own soft cries of pleasure, creating a symphony of sounds that filled the room.
The intensity of Davos's thrusts only heightened the pleasure you were receiving from Aeron. Each powerful push of the Blackwood’s hips against thighs sent waves of sensation through you, causing you to moan around Aeron's cock. Bracken Lord's grip on your hair was a mix of control and tenderness, guiding you with a firm yet gentle hand.
As Davos's pace grew more urgent, his breathing becoming more ragged, you felt the knot in your stomach feeling tighter. The combination of Aeron's cock in your mouth and Davos's powerful thrusts felt delicious, creating a crescendo of pleasure that left you gasping for breath.
Aeron's groans grew louder, his grip on your hair tightening as he neared his release. Davos, too, was reaching his release as his thrusts became more erratic. With a final, powerful thrust, he groaned deeply, his body shuddering with the force of his release. The sensation of his climax filling you was intense, a mixture of pleasure and satisfaction that left you breathless. He stayed in that position as you continued to suck off aeron.
“Now be a good princess and keep all of this cum inside you, ok” The raven haired man said as he leaned towards your ear. He pushed his cock out from inside you. The mixture of his cum, your own and the remnants of Aeron, began to leak out. The blonde man kneeling in front of you groaned at the sight.
At the same time, Aeron's length twitched in your mouth as he found his own release, his groans muffled by the pleasure you were giving him. His grip on your hair relaxed as he let out a long, satisfied sigh.
The room was filled with the sounds of aeron thrusting his cock into your mouth. Davos's hands gently stroked your thighs as he slowly pushed his finger inside you, his touch tender and soothing. Aeron's hands caressed your face, his touch soft and affectionate as he pulled you away from him.
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a/n: half of the time i couldn’t take myself seriously when writing this…lol
taglist: @benjicotblckwood @starkluvrr @pearldaisy @pantheonofbeauty @hueanhdang @thornsandtulips
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saeun · 7 days ago
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এ absolute failure ᪲ ﹕ changing the tides ! ᪲ jujutsu kaisen ᧔ female reader.
࣪⊹ he always wanted to hold you in a “sheep in a lion's den” (or something like that) situation, but how can he get past the barrier of a beating heart and sweaty palms?!
+ love, ‘un: featuring (gamer) megumi ⸝ (neighbour) yuta!
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megumi fushiguro’s mission: make you nervous (FAILED)
usually megumi rarely invites guests. if there are guests, they invite themselves (example: gojo satoru). it’s the main reason why his housemates were jaw-dropped when they saw a girl following behind their friend.
megumi? with a girl? money might as well grow from trees next week.
it was simply unbelievable. not that they’re calling their friend a loser—hardly, but he’s not the most sociable… in person. megumi's more than comfortable yelling into his headset’s microphone, but he never shares that energy elsewhere.
once megumi entered, he immediately gestured a “don’t say anything” to his housemates. they listened and obeyed; doing nothing more than greeting and telling you the classic: “make yourself comfortable!”
now, megumi meticulously planned the entire session with the help of his group chat. he’d invite you over, keep a cool persona, and use video games as a way to bond with you. what megumi didn’t know was that you were already familiar with video games—you’re just more of a mobile player than a pc player (his main forte).
“do you play games?” he’d softly ask, mentally ticking off the checkbox in his mind.
once you confirmed that you did, he offered you his gaming chair. at first, you denied, saying that it’s his chair and you’d be fine with just standing. what you didn’t know was that’s exactly his plan. he’d have you on the chair while he stood behind you.
he’d guide you through his pc set up, pointing at different games, chrome extensions, doing his best to distract you so you won’t pay any mind to him. when you settled on a game, megumi would smoothly lean over you, putting his hand over yours to control the mouse.
he’d do it all under the disguise of “i’ve played it before. let me show you the tricks.” slowly moving his fingers to sit between yours, stretching his other arm to hold the other side of the chair, leaning in closer til he can feel the heat from your body, talking more than he usually does.
megumi would pretend to be immersed in walking you through the game, but he’s secretly glancing to see whether you’re showing any signs of being flustered.
an hour into the session and he’s the one who’s fighting heartbeat. you weren’t nervous at all. you were calm, sometimes biting your lip to focus on the game. whenever you did something to gain an achievement, you’d smile at him brightly, cheering with an “i did it!” while he responded with his own “yeah, you did.”
you were acting as if this was a normal, friendly hang out. he hid his true intentions. you didn’t know that staring at him until he answered made his heart race. ultimately megumi’s crush you deepened meanwhile you’re excited for another gaming session.
yuta okkotsu’s mission: shojo moment while walking together (FAILED)
yuta fell victim to the unskippable event of falling for his neighbour’s daughter. can you blame him? you’re the same age (bonus number one) and you never get bored of him turning the conversation into a marathon of his interests (bonus number two).
not only do you frequently talk, you also walk together every day. whether it’s to school, to the convenience store, or just taking a stroll around the neighborhood. your parents never allow you to walk without a guardian and yuta’s more than happy to spend time with you.
today it’s walking to the convenience store, though you hold a grudge against it. you’ve ranted multiple times about the irony of it being a convenience when its prices are anything but convenient.
while yuta’s doing his usual rap about his new obsession, you felt a few drops of rain. at first you shrugged it off, thinking you’re imagining things. the sun hid behind the clouds, yes, but the sky’s relatively bright! not a grey cloud insight.
again, you felt more drops of rain. you stopped walking, opening your palm and tilting your head towards the sky.
“hey, is it just me or is it raining?”
upon hearing your words, yuta stops. he was a few steps ahead of you, unable to notice that you had stopped due to being immersed in talking. he walks to you, eyebrows raised as he’s ready to answer your question. unfortunately, the sudden burst of rain cuts him off.
taking advantage of you being in a tank top, yuta quickly slid his jacket off, ready to swing it on your shoulders.
however, you had other plans. it’s raining and you were told to get what your mother needed with haste. with time clearly being a villain today, you grabbed his jacket with one hand and held onto his wrist with the next.
“no time for that!” you shouted, pulling him behind you as you sprinted towards the convenience store.
the sudden contact caused him to be flustered; running through the rain is dangerous yet he’s allowing himself to be dragged along. he would’ve covered you with the jacket and found somewhere to shelter but you took the initiative.
so close, yet so far. the romantic moment he always dreamed of being replaced with whatever’s going on. a moment that could’ve been filled with romantic tension forever mourned. maybe next time he can take the initiative anywhere else but conversations.
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ttalgi · 7 days ago
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missent letters pt.2
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wanderer x gn! reader
part 1 || part 2
tags/cw: academic rivals to lovers, some cursing, mc is: a Vahumana student in the Akademiya, roommates with Alhaitham and Kaveh, and a pyro vision holder.
a/n: I finally finished the book a year later (lol) which made me want to make a part 2! Also, please don't mind any ooc or wrong plot details...it's been a while since I've actually played genshin.
wc: 2.1k
“It would do your remaining few brain cells some good to stop banging your head against the table. Plus this table was expensive. I can’t have the wood scratched already.”
You stop mid head bang to send Alhaitham an incredulous look. “Please!” you plead. “Have some sympathy for me at least once in your life. My life is over.” You slump your body across the living room bench.
Without missing a beat, he replies, ”I let you live here, don’t I?” Alhaitham turns to Kaveh with a raised eyebrow, “Care to fill me in on their latest tantrum?”
“It’s not a tantrum—!”
“Long story short, they asked me to send out some envelopes for them because of their busy schedule, so I told them to leave whatever they needed sent on top of their desk. Among the envelopes was one for Hat Guy, which apparently they didn’t want me to deliver.” He takes another bite of the shawarma wrap that Alhaitham brought home for dinner. 
Kaveh turns to look at your defeated form. “If you didn’t mean to send Hat Guy the letters, why were they mixed up with the other envelopes in the first place? What’s the big deal about those letters anyway?” he asks while chewing.
You perk up your head to look at him. “Huh? You didn’t read them?” you ask.
“You see, unlike some”—he sends Alhaitham a pointed look—”people, I have basic human decency.”
“Again, I let you guys live here—”
“Basically, everytime I feel anger or annoyance towards him, I just vent about it on paper pretending that he’s the recipient. Then I just stuff everything in the same envelope because it’s easy storage that way.”
“Wait!” Kaveh interrupts. “Just how many letters have you written about him? That envelope was like an inch thick. It even cost me extra postage!”
“...What can I say? I have lots of vendettas against him,” you shrug.
Alhaitham interposes, “I don’t think I understand. What’s the big deal? So what if you told him exactly how you feel about him? I didn’t take you for being a people pleaser.”
“This is why people think you’re such a machine at times, Alhaitham!” Kaveh throws his arms up in frustration. “Some people actually care about how they present themselves to others.”
“Actually!” You interject before another one of their infamous arguments breaks out full throttle. “Alhaitham’s kind of right. I did write exactly how I feel about him, and that’s the thing. I wrote everything that I felt about him..” you trail off.
Kaveh lets out a dramatic gasp. “No way! You finally confessed your feelings for him in those letters?!”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it confessing. I just talked about how I think his eyes are kinda dreamy despite being cold at times and that he has a really pretty face and that”—you almost give yourself whiplash turning in his direction—”Wait, finally? What do you mean finally? There’s no way you could have known about my minuscule crush on Hat Guy!”
“Anyone with eyes and ears could tell that you have some romantic attraction towards him,” Kaveh sighs while shaking his head before gesturing to Alhaitham. “Even this guy is aware of it.”
“You two do know that I’m not socially inept, correct?”
Deciding to ignore Alhaitham, you slump back against the bench. “I’m doomed.”
You pop up with an idea. “Wait! Do you guys think Tighnari needs any more forest rangers? I can take a break until this whole thing tides over and just help him over at Avidya Forest—”
Alhaitham quenched your wishful thinking. “Knowing how substandard you are with your vision, you’d accidentally set the forest on fire.”
You stumble back as if an arrow pierced through your body. You mumble out, “Must you always humble me.” You turn to Kaveh with hopeful eyes.
“I thought I'd never say this, but I agree with Alhaitham. You trying to help Tighnari in the forest would do more harm than good. Plus, you'd end up a victim to his lectures again. Remember that one time you—”
Feeling your body riddling with piercing wounds, you slump against the bench once more. “Yeah, I’m doomed.” 
//
It's been five days since Kaveh accidentally sent out the envelope meant for Hat Guy and you aren’t sure how much longer you have until the letters would be in his possession. Unless they already were... 
If you were blessed by the Archons, then maybe the envelope was lost or better yet damaged beyond repair in delivery, but alas, you know better. The mail system in Sumeru City is known for its attentiveness, especially since many important Akademiya-based deliveries are sent and received daily.
You haven't seen Hat Guy around much these days, especially considering the fact that you’ve been actively avoiding him. Mandatory lectures that you both share? You now sit close to the exit, far from him. The library that you guys are known to basically reside in? You begged Alhaitham to let you study in his office instead, promising that you’d do his portion of the house chores for the next two weeks.
Deciding to go home early out of your own volition (Alhaitham kicked you out because of an important meeting), you carefully tread the halls of the Akademiya making sure to peek around each corner before continuing. As you start to believe that you're finally in the clear, you hear someone behind you clearing their throat. Taking a look down at the shadows decorating the floor, you see the silhouette of the man that you have been avoiding for your own peace of mind.
"How much longer are you going to rat around the Akademiya for? It's not like you can avoid me forever, you know."
Feeling offended by his choice of words, you abruptly turn around to tell him off; however, the sudden close proximity of your faces has you taking a step back. If you hadn’t been paying attention to his face, you would have thought that he was unaffected by the action, but the slight widening of his eyes before returning back to normal has you knowing otherwise.
You give Hat Guy a pointed glare. Wanting to defend yourself against his statement, you open your mouth to retaliate but the sight of the familiar envelope in his hand causes you to simply shut your mouth and grimace instead. 
As he notices your actions, Hat Guy lets an annoying smirk grace his face. "Come on, say what you were going to say. We both know that you have a lot to say to me," he says while lazily waving the envelope around.
To try and play this in your favor, you start to act nonchalant. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘avoiding you’. Also, what’s with the envelope? Never seen it before in my life.”
Hat Guy raises a brow. “What’s with this sudden stupid, chill guy persona? Anyways, it seems like you need a reminder. Not surprising considering our perspective rankings,” he subtly gloats.
“You little—”
”Let's see,”—he opens up the envelope and starts to smooth out the bottommost letter—”Maybe reading some of these letters will help jog your memory.” He makes a grand gesture of pretending to clear his throat before reading, and you can’t help but to cover your face with your hands to try and protect yourself from the upcoming embarrassing retelling.
“Again! Again, you received a higher score on an assigned research essay. It’s only been 2 months and 11 days since you’ve been enrolled into the Vahumana Darshan, so how is it that you’re the apparent “All-Knowing” about Time-Sensitive Commodities? Who do you think you are? The new Sumeru archon of wisdom? Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t be disrespecting our Lesser Lord Kusanali by comparing you to her—” he pauses and his eyes hurriedly shift to gauge your reaction. If anything, he should be thankful. If you hadn’t been so focused on not looking at him, you would have seen the crease in his brows mid-reading.
Hat Guy recomposes himself before continuing to read. “For Archon's sake. What’s more frustrating is your subtle boasting towards me. How could such a shitty personality even emit from a pretty face like yours? Though, I’ll begrudgingly admit that I actually look forward to these interactions that I have with you.”
“ST—!”
A coy smirk fills his face. “Oh? Why so embarrassed? Do you know these letters after all?”
“N-no…I was just clearing my throat.” At this point, you curse your pride for not being able to halt this interaction.
“Stubborn as always.”
This time he picks out a letter from the top of the stack..
“It's completely and utterly unfair how your resting face looks so serene. Why must you always be in the library at the same time as I? Your stupidly, bewitching face only serves as a major distraction, like how could I not stare! It's like your face was personally carved by a god. Also, how the hell do you make a simple fountain pen look so good? The way that your slender fingers grip the—”
“OK, that’s enough! Stop with the reciting! I admit it!” You feel your face heat up from embarrassment and your pyro vision only makes everything feel hotter. You raise your hands in frustration. “It was a whole mixup! Those letters weren’t even meant to be sent to you.” You dial back your volume towards the end.
He pointedly sighs. “Well that much I figured out. There’s no chance in Teyvat where you of all people would willingly subject themself to this. So, what are you going to do about it now?” he asks while crossing his arms.
It hurts to admit, but you felt stupid at this very second. “What do you mean?”
He tskd. “Do I need to explain every little thing to you? You’re ranked right below me, so I know that you’re not stupid. Are you going to own up to your letters and finally confess? Or are you going to just cowardly dismiss this like you’ve been doing?”
“CONFESS?” You almost give yourself whiplash from how fast you check to see if anyone’s heard you. You repeat yourself in a whispering tone. “Confess?”
“You talk about ‘looking forwards’ to our interactions, staring at my ‘bewitching face’ and ‘slender fingers’ and you think it’s absurd that I bring up confessing? Or would it be easier for you if I confess first?”
Without thinking you blurt out, “There’s no way that you actually like me back.”
“Do you ever see me bothering to interact with anyone as much as I do with you? I even surprised myself when I started to catch feelings for your stubborn self.”
You try to shake off the nerves before staring into his eyes. “Hat Guy, I like—”
“Wanderer.”
"What?"
"Call me Wanderer instead; it rolls off the tongue easier than Hat Guy. It’s a nickname that the traveler gave me. Hat Guy is a silly name that happened to stick around the Akademiya.”
“Lots of names you have there, huh?” you tease.
He lets out a sound that’s the mix between a chuckle and a scoff. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Well, Wanderer. I like you. So…will you go out with me?”
“Obviously.” (Your eye roll at his matter-of-fact tone is instinctual) “I wouldn’t waste my time with anybody else. Anyways, let’s get out of here. You were on your way home before I caught you, weren't you?”
Your lips start to raise into a smile. “You’re going to walk me home?”
“Noo, I’m saying this so I can just go off on my own—”
“Oh, shut it. Let’s get out of here.”
As the both of you guys stroll out of the Akademiya, your hand closest to Wanderer suddenly can’t stop twitching every so often. Your head fills with thought pertaining to your new found relationship. 
‘Is it too early to be holding hands?…Maybe hand holding is too PDA for him on open streets—’
A cold hand suddenly embracing yours breaks you out of your stupor. You turn to Wanderer, clearly surprised by the action. Starting to feel embarrassed, you try to pry your hand out of his clutch, only for him to tighten his grip. “W-What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” He pivots his head to the opposite side, hoping that you won’t catch his ears turning slightly pink. “Your thoughts are so loud that even Mondstadt can hear them,” he scoffs. “Just lead the way.”
You start to walk with a slight pep in your step. “As you say!”
bonus scene?:
“Hey, can I give you a nickname too? Or is it too soon..”
He turns with a raised eyebrow. “Depends. What do you have in mind?”
“XxAssMaster69xX”
He lets out the biggest sigh. “Not you too.”
“Jokes, jokes—” you pause. “Wait, me too?”
He continues to walk forwards without you.
“Me too?! Hello???”
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atleastpleasetelephone · 14 days ago
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Elvis who absolutely just loves eating readers pussy and fingering her and can't get enough and whines everytime he can't have it. Sorry if this isn't good it's my first request lol
A/N: I got another similar request so I've grouped these together. I thought 1950s E was best for this one.
Picture You
Pairing: 1950s!E x reader
Word count: 840
TWs: Public sex, Elvis is pussy-eating-obsessed, kind of exhibitionism, dirty photos, smut.
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“Whaddya mean, no?” Elvis is looking at you with big, puppy dog eyes and his voice is particularly whiny. 
“The opposite of yes, El.”
“But why?”
“Because we’re going out with my friends in five minutes, and I know you’re good, but you’re not that good.”
Elvis humphs. “‘S’not fair, honey.”
“It is too. You ate me out last night and this morning.”
“But y’look so pretty in this dress…” he weedles, fingering the fabric. 
“You just wait until tonight,” you try to tell him, but suddenly he’s on his knees and pushing his head under your skirt. “ELVIS!” You squeal, backing away while his fingers do their best to get into your panties. 
“Honey…” he pleads, following you on his knees, head still under your skirt. 
You’re in the process of pushing his head away from your thighs when you both hear Gladys shouting up the stairs. Your friends have arrived. 
***
You spend the day around Beale Street, drinking ice cream floats and listening to the live music in the bars there, since you turned 21 last week so now you’re allowed in. Elvis loves every minute of it, and insists that you come back after dinner to see when things really get wild. You nod and giggle, cuddling up to him in a corner for a while. Some time in the late afternoon the pair of you come across a photobooth. None of your other friends are interested, saying they’ll meet you back at A Schwab for more floats, so you get in together, laughing and giggling. As you fiddle with the settings, trying to make sure your chair is in the right place, Elvis has an idea. He gets down on his knees between your legs, pushing his head under your skirt again. You squeak. 
“Elvis!” Your heart is beating quickly and you’re flushed. It might be a booth but it’s still kind of public. The curtain doesn’t quite touch the floor, for a start. 
“Let me, honey. Wanna photo of that lovely face ya make when ya cum for me.”
You squeak again. “Elvis! People might see!” 
“Cum quickly then.”
He pulls your panties to the side and starts to lick your clit furiously, feeling it harden under his tongue. You moan softly, looking down at the bulge his head has created under your skirt. The boy has a problem. You were the first girl he’d ever licked, down there, and it had gone from something that disgusted him to a full-on addiction in a matter of days. He wanted your pussy all the time, to lick and finger until he made you scream. You’d had sex once or twice, but this was his preferred method of getting you off, and it seemed to make him crazy too. More than once he’d cum in his pants, or against the mattress as he lay on the bed with his head between your legs. You kept trying to tell him to wear underpants so he’d stop ruining his slacks, but he wouldn’t listen. 
His long middle finger slips inside you and curls to hit the perfect spot. You let out a shuddering moan and hit the button to take the photos. Sucking on your clit now, he slips another finger inside and pumps them quickly, knowing what will get you there. The camera flashes once, twice, and then you feel the tide of your orgasm wash over you and murmur his name. Two more flashes and he licks you through it, kitten licks to your sensitive clit that almost make you yelp. 
“Come on!” Someone yells from outside. You freeze. There hadn’t been anyone else around when you’d come in, but now there must be a line. 
You sit up and mumble something to Elvis about getting out, and he emerges from your skirt, hair ruffled and lips glossy with your arousal. He grins, sheepishly. 
“Can’t wait to see the photos, baby,” he murmurs, as you try to get him to stand up so you can both leave. “Think I might haveta go home now though.”
Tugging on his wrist, you turn back to look at his face questioning. ‘Why, El?”
He giggles, pressing his lips to your ear as he follows you out of the photobooth. 
“Made a mess in my pants.”
You blush as you pull him behind you, waiting outside for the photos to come out as the girls waiting tut and look at you like they know exactly what you’ve been getting up to in there. 
“El! What did I tell you about wearing underpants?” You whisper, shame making your face even redder. 
He wraps his arms around your waist, hiding his crotch from view. “Sorry, honey.”
“Won’t let you have it any more if you don’t wear some,” you tell him, as the photos drop into the slot. 
He whines into your neck. “But honey, I need it.”
“Then get your mama to buy you some underpants,” you chide, picking the photos up and pushing them into your purse. “No underpants, no pussy.”
***
Taglist:
Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:
@arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep @nebulamorada @iloveelvis2 @18lkpeters
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the-jordas-trials · 3 months ago
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teehee. More earthmovers. Reference time aswell YIPPEE!!! This is by all means not all of my stupid war horses, theres like so many more still in the back of my brain who i gotta design, that atop doing designs for each ones final moments/ Whalefall just vibing on the surface.
more info about each under the cut (poke me about any of these guys i WILL ramble more bout them)
Benjamin: here just for a height reference. Standard Civilian class earthmover. Just a littol man (bonus points if you manage to find V1 hidden on his ref. Carefull. V1 is like five pixels tall but it IS there)
Pyroclastic: Supreme Escalation Class. Ruthless and violent, known to stop at nothing untill his targets have been eliminated. Pyro's name sake was drawn due to his size causing extensive overheat, as a result, vents were built and installed post creation, allowing him to turn the tide of most fights by dumping superheated steam/blood and vapour directly onto the field, often melting or overheating rivals. Pyro is considered a 'failed' EM, having he failed the second 'hurdle' of an earthmover's coming of age. Winning a fight against the last made, Whalefall. Disgraced, he was often chased away from his kills and only gained respect after wiping out several Supreme class herds, earning the nickname Burning Devil. Starshine: early Greater Escalation class. SS is old for an earthmover, but by far not the eldest, old enough before the design was fully nailed down. She supports a prototype canon, opposed to the usual javelin, she was designed to get up close and personal before overloading a rivals shield with a canon shot, allowing a fellow herd member to later take them down. SS pingponged between herds, and was later wounded and found by Whalefall. She's rather squeamish, shockingly kind and was known to go without refueling and resting form months on end. Both she and Whalefall survived the long night and new peace, untill the machine uprising, where Pyroclastic cut her down. Whalefall: Supreme Scavenger/Civilian class later repurposed for escalation. Whalefall is an oddity, having being a dual class earthmover, and was later upgraded before the long night set in. She's deceptively fast, known to sprint down her rivals and body slam them. She's also one of the few earthmovers known to weaponize an old targeting glitch, rearing up onto her hind legs and using the sun as cover, forcing her foe's to loose agro and lo longer class her as a 'threat' due to the sudden lack of javelin. Whalefall is also one of the few earthmovers post Hell Invasion that're still alive and is somewhat able to move, she now rests overgrown awaiting for her last maintenance machine to return from its hell dive.
Cyclone: Lesser plateau class. Cyclone is apart of the last round of earthmover's before the refineries and factories were razed to the ground. Apart of the 'colt/filly' round, small due to the lack of resources to make a herd of full sized earthmovers. Typical for his herd, Cyclone sports massive electric generators along his flanks, allowing him to electrify rivals. His herd splintered early on, joining up with existing herds, he found himself in the care of Whalefall fairly early on. Perished during the long night after tripping and unable to follow Whalefall and Starshine. Divergent: Standard civilian class. She's nothing to write home about. Born, killed, earned respect, then left alone. She's bog standard. Often living a peaceful life protected by her two sisters. Converse often with other herds, including Whalefalls, her large antenna array allowing her to do so. She's a known peace keeper, and was able to talk sever herds out of fighting multiple times. Convergent: Greater escalation class. By far one of the most hyperactive earthmovers. Known sprinter, known escalator. She was violent and hot headed, often shot first, hailed for peace second. Horridly protective over her sisters. She was wounded early on in her life, having taken an unlucky hit to her neck and surviving by the skin of her teeth. As a result she cant look down nor does she have full range of movement within her neck. Transform: Supreme civilian class. Form had by far the largest population atop her back, and as a result could hardly move faster than a shamble. Before the long night set in, she had been gravely wounded on her hind right leg, resulting in an extensive limp. Despite that Form is one of the few Civilian class movers that're willing to fight, and fight often. References still to draw are: Tsunami, Geyser, Eruption, Habitat, Freeze, Solarflair, Pompey, Hurricane, Typhoon and Tropical. yeah... theres alot of these fuckers lmao.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years ago
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hey, i've sort of a prompt in mind. The driver has a couple of shitty races and is frustrated and furious. The reader let's him use her so he can relax and take his mind off it. He does so and becomes pretty rough. In the morning, he's the first one to wake up and sees hickeys, red and irritated skin patches on her body. When she wakes up he starts to apologize.
It's probably too short for a fic, so maybe you can insert it in the ones you already have. It's up to you
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Afterglow || CS55
Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x wife!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, slight angst, roughish smut WC: 1.4k F1 Masterlist
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The night had been humid, as it had all week, and your sleep was light and fitful as you tossed and turned in the sheets. Warm hands trailed up your bare legs and you sighed at the touch you had missed while Carlos was away. You suddenly startled awake remembering your husband wasn’t meant to be home yet but he caught you before you could hurt yourself scrambling out of the bed.
“Cálmate, mi reina, it’s me,” Carlos soothed as he felt your racing heart beating against his chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
It took a moment to relax but then you returned the embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist while his large hand cradled the back of your head like he did when he needed to keep you close to him. Taking a seat on the bed, he pulled you onto his lap and kissed your forehead as an apology, one you happily accepted.
The sheer curtains swayed gently in front of the windows that had been left open all night to battle the summer heat. Beyond the balcony, the island was hazy in the watery pre-dawn light and the local fishing boats were just starting to make their way out of the bay before the tides changed.“You’re home early.” You pulled back so you could see the exhaustion in his brown eyes and you stroked his beard that he hadn’t trimmed since he left. “What’s wrong, guapo?”
He caught your hand and clutched it to his chest so you could feel his heart beating beneath it before he raised them to his lips to kiss the wedding band on your finger. “I missed you.”
Giving him a small smile, you kissed your way across his shoulder before climbing the thick muscles of his neck. “I missed you too, but that’s not why you look so sad.”
His sigh was heavy and deep, filling the four corners of the room and you pulled back to see his face. “I’m not sad, just disappointed. It was a bad weekend, amor.”
You peeked over at the alarm clock before grabbing the hem of the satin slip you wore to bed. His eyes followed your fingers as they drew the material up your body and he bit his bottom lip at the sight. “There’s still time to change that.”
“Yeah?” he asked as his hands roamed your body, his fingers digging into your skin. “You want to make me feel better, baby?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed but it turned to a gasp as he nipped at your collar before kissing the mark he left. “I’d do anything to make you happy.”
His beard tickled your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake as he made his way down your chest, nipping and sucking the skin until you whimpered his name with need. Shifting on his lap, you rocked your hips in search of friction and felt his own need swelling beneath you.
“Please, Carlos, I missed you.”
He silenced your begging with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing your lips open for him. His fingers were leaving their prints in your skin the way he held your hips tight and it took all his will power to pull away long enough to speak. “On your knees.”
Carlos didn’t even give you a chance to move as he picked you up and put you right where he wanted you in the centre of the bed. The comfortable clothes he wore for travelling were quickly discarded in a heap on the floor before you felt the bed shift under his weight and felt his hand caressing the swell of your ass. 
“I needed you with me, hermosa,” he said as he nudged your knees apart for him. “I needed you.” Your back arched as he curled two thick fingers into your cunt without warning, stretching you with the only patience he had before they were gone and his cock pressed to your entrance. “I need you.”
“You have me,” you moaned as he worked his length inside, inch by inch, until your fingers were grasping the blankets and your breaths were mere pants. “I’m yours.”
Carlos pulled you up off your hands so your back was flush against his chest and he reached around to roughly palm your breasts, pinching and squeezing your nipples until your cunt clenched tight around him. “Will you still be mine if I lose my seat?” his voice was low in your ear and you craned your neck to see the resentment in his eyes, something that had been simmering since the negotiations for his contract renewal stalled. 
Placing your hand over his, you pushed it down your body to the juncture of your thighs. “Always,” you promised as he felt the union of your bodies. “I married you for love, Carlos, not your job.”
“I might be out of it soon enough,” he spat bitterly and you felt his chest rising and falling rapidly and the heat of his breath on your neck. “Three. Fucking. Races.” His hips snapped against you with every word, stealing the air from your lungs, and you knew there was only one way to ease the anger burning in his gut. “Fuck.”
“It’s okay, baby,” you said as you reached over up and tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging the strands as you gave him permission to use you as a vent for his frustrations. “It’s okay.”
His control snapped as he accepted your offering and you gasped as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. Carlos had always loved to mark you, though not always this rough. He had liked to leave on his trips knowing that his touch and his kiss still lingered on your skin. You knew there would be a few marks come morning light.
When dawn finally broke you were in Carlos’ arms watching the coastal breeze dance with the curtains and finally bring with it some cool air. The wind was welcome on your hot skin where a thin layer of sweat coated both of your bodies where you lay entangled on the bed. The gulls were just beginning to wake with the day and their songs echoed along the beach in a peaceful lullaby that threatened to send you off to sleep.
“Mierda,” Carlos swore as the sun crested the balcony and bathed the room in its light. You blinked against the bright rays that had interrupted the dream you had almost reached and found your husband shaking his head. “Perdóname, mi amor.”
Your brows pinched in confusion and you looked up from the pillow you had made of his shoulder. “Forgive you for what?”
“This,” he whispered as he dragged a fingertip down your neck, the touch a little tender but not sore. “And this.” You followed the trail he danced along your skin and saw the deep red hickeys his mouth had made, the slight dents around your breast in the shape of his teeth and the light purple bruises of his fingers on your hips. “I’m so sorry, I got carried away.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” Sitting up, you placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. You knew he would go down to the gym and spend the rest of his day there, running until he couldn’t move because he thought he deserved the punishment. “I can take everything you have to give, baby. I want it, I want to be the one who can make you feel better on your worst night. I want to be the one you can let yourself go with.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said after swallowing the lump in his throat. 
“You didn’t hurt me,” you said with a smile before leaning down to capture his full lips that were begging to be kissed. “It was quite the opposite.”
“Yeah?” he asked as his eyes traced your curves and he saw your nipples begin to peak beneath the heated gaze. You bit your lip and nodded, giggling when he pulled you on top of him. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Carlos, you’re ruining my afterglow,” you murmured as you kissed his jawline and felt the echo of the burn of his short beard between your thighs.
Rolling over, he pinned you beneath his body and you felt his heavy length against your hip as he stared down at you, the love still as strong as the day you wed. And just like that day, he made a vow, “I promise I can fix it.”
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spinningwebsandtales · 1 year ago
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Imagine Cooking Laios A Meal After He Comes Back From The Dungeon
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Laios Touden X FemReader
Rating: T
Warnings: Suggestive themes but it's mostly fluff, reader gets a small cut
Word Count: 2.3k
(A/N:) I have just started watching Delicious in Dungeon and I really fell in love with this series. And it's funny that I got this idea while I was cooking lunch today! It wouldn't leave me alone until I got it wrote and true to fashion when I'm really inspired it turns into a monster of an imagine! So I hope my fellow fangirls can enjoy the craziness that goes on in my mind! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
Word always travelled around fast whenever Laios and his party finally returned from the dungeon. You had kept close tabs on the tall blond man and how he and his brave team faired against the creatures they battled and all sorts of tasks they faced. It wasn't unheard of people perishing within the dungeon, so every time he and his group left you became overwhelmed with dread at the thought of never seeing him again. It was only until they burst through the tavern doors were you ever to fully rid yourself of the stress. Seeing him sit around, talking, and laughing with everyone made you happy. While you were only a waitress in the establishment you worked at, it was no secret around town that you knew your way around a kitchen yourself. So it didn't surprise you when strangers would come up asking about your food or pleading for you to open up your own place after trying one bite.
It was another evening and several parties were beginning to gear up to return to the dungeon as many others were about to return themselves. You were giddier than normal, cause deep in your heart you knew that one of the returning parties had to be Laios and his crew. Customers could see you practically dancing around the establishment, setting down plates and glasses with an extra flourish. It was no secret in town that you had a slight crush on the tall man. But whenever they brought it up, you'd blush bright red before denying it quickly. But deep down inside you knew that you were lying to yourself and everyone else. So when the door slammed open and Laios walked in heading straight towards you, his gait filled with purpose you swallowed noisily. Grabbing onto your hands and pulling them to his chest he leaned downward, golden eyes barreling straight into yours. You were ready to scream until a giddy little smile parted his lips.
"I want to taste your cooking," he shouted letting everyone around hear his request. "I have heard all throughout the dungeon about how tasty and wonderful your culinary creations are, that I must try them for myself."
It wasn't unknown that Laios loved to eat and had a strange pallet but this was shocking, that he was being so forward. His stomach grumbled loudly, causing the whole tavern to chuckle. He blushed deeply, quickly stepping away knowing how the position you two were in looked to everyone else.
"Umm," you were sweating nervously, "I wouldn't mind cooking for you. Though I do have twenty minutes left of my shift."
"I can wait," he announced though his stomach grumbled in protest.
You giggled, snatching a roll from a basket on the bar counter. You held it out hoping that he would take it to tide himself over until you were able to take him to your home for his requested meal. Though you didn't just take anyone back to your home, you didn't mind cooking for others and you actually found some fulfilling enjoyment when they melted at the first bite. You loved making people happy with your food. So Laios waited (though a bit impatiently) for you to finish working so he could finally have his long awaited special meal. The other waitresses giggled towards you, elbowing you in the ribs until it was finally time for you to leave. Patrons gave you a thumbs up, others wished you luck, and the other waitresses made inappropriate gestures about the size of Laios. You rolled your eyes, slamming the tavern door closed behind you. Laughter erupted from within and you drug Laios away quickly.
Your little home wasn't anything special, but it had a nice kitchen and it was a easy place to keep clean. You also didn't have to worry about your neighbors and it was a good part of town. You didn't have to worry about bandits or ne'er-do-wells. With Laios standing in the little sitting area, the reality of the situation finally hit you. You almost fainted right there, until you smacked your cheeks and took a deep breath. Laios seemed a little concerned until you gave him your most confident smiled, that honestly wavered a tad, before you lead him to your kitchen. Luckily you did have a dining set that could accommodate him well.
"It's not much," you announced while he took a seat. "But it's home."
"I like it," he replied with a gentle smile. "It's very cozy."
"Thank you. You feeling anything in particular to eat, or have any allergies I need to know about?"
"No to both questions," Laios replied. "Whatever you feel like cooking, I feel like eating."
Something told you that the tall blond man didn't discriminate when it came to food. You giggled, knowing exactly what you wanted to cook. Rummaging around for your ingredients, you looked back to see him looking around absentmindedly, taking in his surroundings.
"Feel free to get up and look around. I don't mind and have nothing to hide."
"Oh sorry," he sheepishly rubbed his neck. "I didn't mean to seem nosey."
You laughed, "You aren't. But it is a new place. I can't say that if I visited someone else's home I wouldn't want to look around."
"Thank you but I'm okay sitting her for the time being. I'd actually like to keep talking with you if that's okay."
"Absolutely!" You started patting a good portion of ground meat with a disposable napkin. Sopping all the blood you could out of the meat. Laios watched in fascination. While he knew how to cook a little, he was no chef and his creations were barely edible.
"Why are you doing that? And what is it?"
"It's something my mother always did. It takes the stink out of the meat while it cooks. And part of me thinks it takes a little impurity out of the meat. Like soaking wild game and fish in salt water after it's cleaned." You began to season the meat heavily in the bowl. "A local hunter gave it to me. It's deer from his last hunt, he's very nice to me."
Laios stiffened in the chair, a sudden twinge of jealousy running through him. While he barely knew you personally, he couldn't lie that every time he visited the tavern, you caught his eye. Though he knew you had many admirers as you were very kind to customers and handled situations with patience and grace. Though it was known that if situations got out of control or men couldn't keep their hands to themselves you were able to fend for yourself.
"I'm no professional when it comes to cooking, but I make a pretty decent home chef," you smiled portioning the meat to make patties. You patted out two bigger ones for Laios and a couple smaller ones for yourself. Next you wanted to focus on cutting up some veggies for a flavorful but simple stir-fry. You also planned to make a flavorful gravy from the drippings from the meat. Though deer meat was very lean and dry, so you would add some butter to help it along. You just wanted the flavoring from the seasonings from the meat patties to soak into the gravy. Laios could see your brain turning, so he took it as a sign that he could take a moment to go look around. He already had permission and it wasn't like he was going to through anything private. So he left you to it, though he didn't want to stay away long as he was learning a few things from you.
It didn't take long to cut up the cabbage, carrots, and squash. You left the onions for last, since they were getting old you knew they were going to be a little more stout than they were a couple weeks ago. First cut went fine until you removed the outer peeling before the stinging started. You were so used to cutting onions that normally it didn't bother you, but this particular onion was not being nice to you. Tears leaked down your cheeks, while your eyes stung and began to blur. You thought you could still see well until you missed an onion slice and found your finger instead.
"Yowch," you yelped.
Thundering footsteps from Laios sounded from the sitting room coming towards your direction, before Laios basically skidded around the corner into the kitchen and came to your side in mere seconds. As soon as he heard your yelp his heart skipped a beat.
"What?! What is it," he panted.
Tears were still streaming down your cheeks, because of the onions and you held your bleeding hand to your chest. Without another word Laios took your hand cupping it in his larger calloused hands. The long healed nicks and scars from his sword gently scraped at your softer skin. You shivered at the different texture, but you loved his gentle touch. It soothed you while blood dripped from the cut.
You gave a pained giggle, "It doesn't hurt bad. The stupid onions made me cry and I couldn't see what I was doing. I wound up cutting my finger instead of the onion. But it'll be okay." You wiped at your wet cheeks with the heel of your hand that wasn't being held tenderly by the larger man.
"We still need to clean it," Laios lead you towards the sink where he turned on the faucet and placed your cut finger in the cool water. He started looking through the pockets of his pack, searching for a healing salve and a cloth strip to bandage your finger. It didn't take him long to find some before he was back at your side. He carefully patted your finger dry before smearing some of the soothing salve down the shallow and clean cut before winding the small strip of cloth to bind everything together. You thought he was about to step away when Laios leaned down, leaving a lingering tender kiss to your newly bandaged digit. You stammered but Laios, though clearly a little embarrassed, didn't step away.
"Can I help you," he offered.
All you could do was nod in reply before he took the knife from the counter where you had laid it. Before he started cutting the rest of the onion for you, he quickly sterilized it with some water and soap. You both worked quietly, a comfortable comradery coming between you both. With two working on the food, it went by much quicker and though your finger throbbed a little from the slice and heat from the stove. Everything was set upon the table in pride and you placed your hands on your hips. Laios once again took his seat and waited for you to take yours. He watched you in confusion when you didn't immediately sit down but stepped by his side. His golden eyes watched you take a plate and set it before him. You started placing food on his plate and he started to protest, but a quick stubborn look had him quieting down immediately.
"My mother told me when I was younger that if I wanted to win the heart of my future husband, it would be through his stomach," you scooped veggies beside the meat patties, before placing the gravy over the meat. You realized that Laios was blushing deep red, it made your cheeks and ears red as well. "Silly huh?"
"Yeah....silly," he rubbed at his neck. In all honesty he didn't think it was silly, but it hurt him a little bit to think of someone else enjoying a calm and beautiful home life with you.
After you had finished serving Laios did you finally take your seat across from the table and made your own plate. He waited patiently for you to finish before tucking in, though you made it known that he didn't have to. But he wanted to, meals were enjoyed better together, though it was a little hard to wait when everything smelled so good. Finally you finished making your plate and held up a glass.
"To shared meals and the people who make them more special," you said. Laios held up his own cup and you air clinked them together. Laios scooped up a huge bite and placed it into his mouth. The flavors burst upon his tongue and it had him moaning loudly. He melted into his seat and you giggled at his reaction, though it did make you really happy.
"Marry me," he blurted and you dropped your fork.
"What," you chuckled nervously picking your utensil back up.
He shoveled in more food, scarfing it down quickly to keep himself from saying something else stupid. You couldn't help yourself at his ridiculousness. You began to laugh uncontrollably. Laios could only watch speechless before he too joined in. You both laughing heartily over the meal before you were finally able to control yourself. Your sides aching and chest heaving. Finishing off the last bite you picked up your plate and swooped in to give Laios a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you for the compliment," you whispered in his ear. This time causing him to shiver. He could only sit there in shock while you cleared the table, before setting a piece of fruit tart before him.
"I hope you'll come over more for dinner," you said suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.
Laios quickly returned a kiss to your cheek before he cut a big piece of tart ,"Nothing would make me happier."
That's how you found yourself cooking many more meals for the golden haired man that had quickly stolen your heart and you hoped that one day that maybe a real marriage proposal would come from Laios lips one day. But tonight he made you the happiest girl in all the town and you hoped to enjoy many more meals with him no matter what came in the future.
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