#this series is going to be so fun to watch

[thatgothsamurai]

they didn't kiss?? god's strongest soldiers fr

[tarotsoul]

ghost in the wind — part three

summary: as feelings progress and truths unfold, you're left with a decision that could end your entire existence as you know it. the mother has a path for every soul, perhaps this was where yours was supposed to end.

warnings: swearing, mentions and brief descriptions of sexual abuse, consensual sexual themes, mentions of death and suicide.

word count: 5.8k

series masterlist

Feyre Archeron could never begin to imagine the pain and horror her older cousin had faced in the mortal lands. Rhysand hadn’t shared that image, hadn’t shared the memories he’d witnessed when he took some of that pain away from you. 

She didn’t need her mate to share those visuals. Not when she felt every ounce of anguish through their bond. And every day since then, she had not been able to forget it. 

Another two weeks had passed since your arrival, three in total of your being in the Night Court, and you were finally beginning to work through your trauma. 

The offer had been there to find your own place of residence, to have that independence if you so wished. But after speaking with Feyre and Rhysand, after learning it was in fact Nesta who had imposed the leave Y/N be rule… you realised just how much you loved living in the House with your family. 

Your friends. 

So when you’d finally accepted Mor’s desperate pleas to take you shopping and fill your empty wardrobe…

“You’re going to need another dresser.” 

You blinked, taking in the mess around you. Your entire closet was stuffed to the brim with dresses, blouses, sweaters, coats…

And the pile on your bed…there was no chance of those articles of clothing fitting in the closet too. Nesta was right, you definitely needed another dresser. 

“Rhys is going to lose his shit when he finds out how much we spent.” 

Your eyes widened at Nesta’s words, not quite picking up the teasing tone she spoke in. Mor shot her a look and threw a sweater at her face. 

“She’s kidding,” Mor reassured. “My dear cousin has more money than sense. This won’t have even made a dent in his wealth.” 

A relief, but that guilt began to creep its way into the pit of your stomach nonetheless. You were ashamed to admit that while you had fun shopping with Mor and your cousin, you hadn’t even taken a moment to realise how much everything had cost. 

Nesta threw herself onto your bed, right on top of the throng of clothes you needed to find a place for. “I’m thinking we raid Rhys’ wine cellar tonight…”

A gleaming smile radiated off Mor’s face in agreeance and they both turned to you with upraised brows, expectant. 

You pursed your lips, an apologetic smile on your face. “I told Rhys and Feyre that I’d babysit Nyx tonight.” 

Nesta huffed and threw herself back on the mattress again, clothes bouncing and crinkling as she did so. Mor raised another brow, as if that wasn’t a good enough excuse. 

“So? I’ve gotten drunk while watching Nyx loads of times.” 

Nesta seethed at her. “One, that’s my nephew and I never want to hear you doing that again. And two, Y/N’s tolerance to alcohol won’t be as strong as ours. Two glasses and she’d be borderline incapacitated.”

Despite the slight insult, a laugh bubbled up your throat at just how right she was. Because you’d never even drank a sip of wine in your life, and Nesta knew that. 

“I’m surprised you don’t have plans with Azriel…” 

Mor was prying, you knew that. But you had no control over the heat that made its way across your neck and face. 

“We’re just friends.” It wasn’t a lie. You’d spent a lot of time together the past couple of weeks, and he was one of the only people you felt truly comfortable around. 

Mor gave you a knowing look. “Mhm, tell that to his shadows.” 

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nesta scoffed, sitting up again. “Az’s shadows are basically an extension of himself.”

Mor hummed. “They don’t do anything unless Azriel commands it. Or sometimes, they’ll do something based on his emotions or thoughts. They’re so friendly with you because Azriel likes you.” 

Your cheeks burned. You hadn’t realised his shadows touching you was a product of Azriel’s emotions. And the more you thought about it, there hadn’t been a time since you met him that they hadn’t touched you in some way. 

You didn’t say that, though. No. Azriel clearly had no qualms about other people noticing, but that did not mean you were willing to gossip about it. 

You did not need to allow silly fantasies to root their way in your mind. Azriel was your friend. And you were okay with him only wanting you as such. 

Within an hour, Mor had disappeared to tend to her own duties and just as Nesta was about to leave for hers, she grabbed your wrist and motioned for you to look at her. 

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

She didn’t need to say anything more. Those words were enough—more than enough. She saw you, she recognised everything you had been through and everything you did every day to overcome it. 

I’m proud of you. 

The last and only person to have ever told you that was your mother. 

And because you saw her too, because you remembered fhe young mortal woman she was before her own struggles of turning Fae and adjusting to her new lifestyle, you found yourself saying, “I’m proud of you, too, Ness.”

Nyx had been wonderful to look after that night. 

You’d gotten all the cuddles and boyish giggles, the beautiful little smiles and a few stinky diapers to go with it. You loved every moment with the little babe, and when Rhys and Feyre returned from their night off early in the morning, you offered to sit with him again whenever they needed it. 

But despite how fulfilling and wonderful it had been, it had also hurt. You wondered if you’d ever be blessed with the opportunity to carry and birth your own child. Wondered if you’d ever even find someone to want you in that way. 

Especially within Prythian. 

It was another late night for you, though your reading sessions had taken you from the lounge to the library. And you no longer spent them alone. 

Azriel sat on the couch opposite you, his nose deep in a book as you watched him. In the past week, you’d spent a lot of time together. It ranged from walks into the city to sitting and reading in the library until early hours of the morning. 

You’d grown accustomed to his presence, his scent often able to calm any anxiety or qualms you felt. He had noticed, of course, he wasn’t a Spymaster for nothing. But Azriel did not mention the change in you whenever he was around. 

He basked in it, in the way you appeared so much more comfortable with him. You weren’t afraid to speak up, to ask questions or acknowledge whatever was on your mind. 

You were coming out of your shell and it warmed Azriel’s heart to know that he was somewhat of the cause for it. 

“What does salacious mean?”

Azriel blinked repeatedly as your voice broke him from his thoughts. Salacious? His throat tightened. You’d often ask for definitions of things you were unsure on, sometimes even asking how to pronounce words you had never come across. 

But salacious? 

“Are you reading Nesta’s romance novels?” He quirked a brow. 

Your lips involuntarily pouted at him, your own brows furrowing just slightly as you rested the open book back into your blanket-covered lap. “Yes. Why?”

Anxiety creeped its way into your stomach, rooting deep into your flesh from the inside out. Reminders of how this used to go flashed through your mind and suddenly, it felt like you were back in the village, back in the mortal lands and living with Rafe. 

A tendril of darkness peaked at the corner of your vision and you focussed on it, watching it slowly dance across your knuckles and weave between your fingers in a calming manner. 

Shadows. Azriel. Library. Velaris. Safe. 

And just like that, the anxiety un-clawed its roots and crept away. 

Azriel nodded ever so slightly to the book, knowing exactly what had just happened with you but acting as if he didn’t. “Salacious means…having inappropriate interest in sexual matters.”

There was no hiding the heat on your cheeks—the way it burned your soft skin. You tore your gaze from his as quickly as you could, unable to contain your slight shame and embarrassment. 

But Azriel did not mind one bit. 

Azriel had secrets. He supposed that being the Night Court’s Spymaster, it was to be expected. But these secrets were different from the others, something he kept locked tight in his mind for the past month. 

And it wasn’t the secrets that had him moving closer and spending all of his time in the lower level of the House. No. That was very much you and your presence and whatever it was in your soul that called out to his. 

He couldn’t stay away—though, it wasn’t like he even tried—for that pull was far too strong for even his willpower. 

He had suspicions. Suspicions of a golden thread that started in his chest and ended in yours. He knew it was far fetched, knew he was only hurting himself by entertaining the complete insanity of the idea. 

You were human. Mortal. And mortals didn’t have mates. He told himself so every day, and right after, like clockwork, he countered his own sound advice with the one thing that had been troubling him the most.

Because what mortal could plant and bloom a patch of tulips with nothing more than a thought and a touch. What mortal could speak so clearly to the earth and create life right before another’s eyes. 

Despite the possible threat that could pose for his court and his family, Azriel had kept that tidbit of information to himself. Just for now. Just until he could make sense of it. Then, and only then, would he bring that information to light. 

Because Azriel did not feel any ounce of danger or ill intent from you. He did not feel anything but warmth and intrigue and that godforsaken sensation when you grew excitable over something. 

He couldn’t take that from you. Not when you were finally coming out of your shell, finally talking and laughing and going as far as joining him and Cassian for training twice a week. 

“If sex makes you uncomfortable, there are other romance novels without that.”

Heat warmed your skin again. Shadows dared to intertwine with your fingers. 

“No, it’s not that.” You played with his shadows, allowing them to caress your skin. “Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I’ve just never had a good enough experience to understand much.”

He didn’t push, didn’t ask further questions. You wouldn’t be embarrassed for this, for something that was not your fault. You wouldn’t cower anymore, hide what you felt or thought. No longer would there be repercussions for speaking your mind. 

So you spoke again. 

“Rafe was the only person I’d ever…it’s just different to read it, to have it described as something enjoyable.”

Azriel’s knuckles turned white. Something enjoyable. He’d never experienced it to be anything but. His soul almost cleaved in two at the thought of what you’d endured. 

Azriel dared to glance at you again. “Sex with the right person can be very enjoyable. It should be nothing but beautiful.”

He stiffened then, blood thumping in his ears. His shadows stilled, noticing the shift in your scent just as their master had. Sweet, all consuming arousal, and Azriel did not miss the way your thighs pressed together in impulse. 

He swallowed thickly. 

You broke his gaze, your own heart thumping sporadically as you stared at the pages on your lap. You couldn’t help your mind wandering to thoughts of him, of experiencing that with him. You knew it was wrong. So, so wrong. 

“The thought of being intimate like that with someone new…” You couldn’t find the words to express the fear and anxiety that came with that thought.

Azriel listened intently, breathing deeply. 

“I want to experience life the way it should be experienced. Not the way others have pushed it upon me.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his book on his knee. “You control your life now, nobody else. If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.”

You wondered then if he could see into your mind as Rhysand could. If he could feel that shift in the air. If he could smell it on you. That want and desire. You would not apologise for it. Not anymore. 

“But if it feels wrong, is that not my guts way of warning me?” You countered. 

Azriel smiled, just barely. His knuckles still white. “It’s your guts way of protecting you. Because you’ve never experienced anything beyond what others bestowed upon you.”

Gods above. 

An ache fluttered in your chest, just above your breast and you absentmindedly rubbed at it, disrupting the neckline of your shirt. Azriel’s eyes squinted at the exposed skin, at the mark that adored your flesh. 

“Are you hurt?” His tone was primal, protective. 

You paused your movements, following his gaze. “Oh, no.” You pulled your shirt a little lower. “Just a birthmark.”

He needed to compose himself, needed to stop allowing his mind to wander about other areas of your concealed skin. He felt like nothing more than a big brute. 

Your soft, airy giggle woke him from his daze and he looked over to find tendrils of darkness caressing any inch of your skin that they could. Gods, if he didn’t have a leash on his emotions around you, how could he control his damned shadows. 

“It’s like they have a mind of their own.”

They didn’t. But he couldn’t correct you. Not without exposing the fact that they only fed off their masters emotions and desires. Not without exposing the fact that Azriel wished he was the one touching your skin and not his shadows. 

He swallowed again, throat dry. 

“Nesta told me that they’re an extension of yourself. That they only act if you will it.” You didn’t know why you said it, why you thought you had the right to speak that truth. 

But you would not apologise, even as Azriel remained silent for a few moments. Partly out of shock, partly in awe. But that was another thing he would not speak aloud. 

“Sometimes they can act on behalf of my emotions. My desires and wants.”

You dared to meet his honey eyes. “And that’s what you want?” You were breathless, a feeling in your stomach that you’d never once experienced before. “You want to touch me?” 

Neither of you knew where this confidence had come from, but Azriel did not question it and you did not apologise. 

He shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t repeat the words that echoed in his mind and soul and body. But, Gods…he could not seem to regain any semblance of control when he stared into your eyes. He could not lie to you, could not hide what he felt. 

“I want to do a lot of things.” The admittance was barely audible, nothing more than a breath he’d been holding but you heard it all the same. As though you’d demanded the words out of him. 

You couldn’t look away, even if you tried. Your entire being was encapsulated by him. Your chest heaved, legs ached. The shadows slowly left your shoulders and neck, returning to their previous position at your fingers. 

“But above all, I want you to be comfortable. Happy.” 

Something compelled you to stand, the shadows seemingly guiding you to their master as your book toppled to the couch. He watched with a hungry gaze, one full of faltering self-control. 

If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.

Take it. 

Take it. 

“I’m comfortable with you.” 

The shadows moved like a breeze between you both, tugging you closer and closer. Nothing else mattered, not in that moment. Not when your soul felt like it was singing, like it was exactly where it longed to be. 

Azriel stood slowly, towering above you once at his full height. You strained your neck to meet his gaze and he bent his to come closer. You could feel his breath dance with yours, could feel his hard chest press upon your soft one. 

No part of you felt nervous, no part of you felt unworthy. 

But Azriel…he didn’t know what to do. For weeks he’d been dreaming of this moment, dreaming of the taste of your lips, the touch of your skin. He slowly raised a scarred hand to caress your warm cheek, and you didn’t cower or shy away from his touch. 

A test, perhaps. To see if you really could handle the intimacy of another male so soon after what you’d endured. You didn’t falter, didn’t break his gaze. He wanted you, more than he ever wanted anything else before. 

“What you went through…”

“I don’t want to talk about what I went through,” you cut him off. “That was then, this is now. I don’t want to live in the past.”

Take it.

Take it. 

Your lips…so close to touching his. 

The shadows swirled in delight, excitement.

Azriel knew this wouldn’t be just a kiss. This wouldn’t be meaningless. He felt it, in every part of him, he felt the way your entire being sang to his. He wanted to lay his soul bare before you. 

He itched to brush your hair behind your ear, to hold you and taste you. But Rhysand’s voice echoed through his mind, beckoning him for his assistance. He closed his eyes, huffed out a breath.

“Rhys is calling for me.” 

Azriel stepped away, removed his palm from your skin. You swallowed, stepping back and letting your eyes fixate on the rug beneath your feet. He cleared his throat, struggling to reign in those shadows of his. 

“I’ll come to you tonight…we can talk then.”

But had Azriel waited just a few moments longer, had he given into the urge to brush your hair from your face, he would’ve noticed the slight point that had formed at the top of your ears. 

Azriel didn’t meet you in your chambers that night. And you didn’t see him the next morning. Or the day after that. 

Cassian had mentioned that Rhys sent him on a mission. That he would be back in a few days. 

But something was wrong, you could feel it in every inch of your body. An ache that only got worse with every passing moment. You tried to ignore it, tried to relax in a hot bath with soothing lavender oils. Nothing relieved the pain. Nothing soothed the ache.

And when you left your bathroom and found your once round ears now pointed, and a trail of tulips following in your wake, your legs carried you toward the kitchen before you had a moment to consider it. Cassian and Nesta sat at the table, giggling over their breakfast when you stumbled toward them. 

“What’s happening?” Your panicked tone caught their attention, eyes wide as they stood and took in what lay before them. 

From the stone ground, moss and grass and flowers bloomed as though you stood in the middle of a field. Daisies and buttercups sprouted in your hair, roots of trees tangling around your limbs. 

Everything was so loud yet muffled. Like every word was screamed in your ear but somehow underwater as Cassian called out frantically to Rhysand. Neither of them went near you, even when Rhys flew through the open balcony doors, Feyre in tow. 

They looked at you with nothing less than concern and fear. 

“What in the Gods is happening to me?!” You demanded. 

Rhysand held Feyre back as she attempted to near you, his gaze locked on you as he assessed the situation. But it wasn’t the flowers or grass or roots that he watched. It was you, and the way your crescent-moon birthmark glowed something violet. 

Rhys had known, had suspected something lay dormant within you. From that moment he entered your mind, when he gazed upon that luscious field that seemed to call to you with promises of something new. 

He’d never witnessed such before. Not in the most powerful of Fae had he ever stumbled across that. 

With a very careful step forward, his gaze demanded yours. Feyre had told him of your mother, of her death and your marriage to Rafe. And his voice was soft when he finally asked the question that had been on his mind ever since. 

“What happened the night your mother died?” 

The world went still, cold. Feyre whirled to him in protest. 

“Rhys—“

“—it was a house fire.” 

All eyes turned to you, to the patches of bloom that haltered their growth. 

Rhysand took another step closer. “Where were you?” 

“I—“

A heat unlike any other licked at your skin, waking you from your peaceful slumber. A heat so unwelcomed that you bolted upright in a sheen of your own sweat. 

You could hear the wood of your cottage crackling under a burning flame, and smoke quickly infiltrated your room. You coughed, attempting to swat it away as you squinted in the darkness. 

“Mama!?” You called out, panic stricken in your voice and body. 

Fear began to cripple you, began to take away any sense of self preservation. You couldn’t leave your bed. Your door now engulfed in flames, you screamed. 

“Help! Someone, please help!”

No one was coming. This was the end. You couldn’t move, couldn’t get to your beloved mother. A shrill cry, unlike anything you’d ever heard before, split your heart in two. 

A scream of pure agony and fear tore through your throat, your eyes clenched shut as you gave your body over to the fire. 

Only the next breath you breathed was clean and cold. And your sheets were no longer beneath you, no. Now you laid on the rich soil outside of your home, your fingers rooting themselves into the dirt. 

You screamed and sobbed, unable to do anything but watch as the fire claimed your home and your mother. 

You were sobbing, collapsed to the ground as you struggled to breathe at the memory. 

Rhysand dared another step closer, kneeling before you now and his eyes held such sorrow, such remorse. 

“Y/N…” he spoke softly. “Was your mother ever accused of being a witch?” 

Nesta seethed, threatening. “Rhysand, that’s—“

“How do you know that?” Everything felt very, very still. No one should have known that. No one of these lands should have known that. 

Rhys didn’t answer your question. And despite the sound of large wings breezing through the sky, you did not look away from the High Lord. Not even as Azriel rushed into the House and his heart sunk at what he bore. 

“The day I entered your mind and took some of your pain away, I felt something. Something within you that I have never, in my 500 years of life, felt before.”

Azriel took a step closer. He should have said something when he first noticed the flowers. Because now, whatever power you had…it was consuming you. 

“I’d like to try something,” Rhysand proposed. 

You struggled to keep your breathing even. “What is it?” 

Another step closer, a warm hand on yours. 

“I’d like to enter your mind as far back as it will allow me. Just to see if I can find something.”

Violet eyes watched yours. “Find what?”

He squeezed your hand in reassurance. “Something to make sense of this.”

A moment of pause, to take in your surroundings. The flowers and soil had sprouted to cover the entire expanse of the lounge floor, your friends and cousins standing just beyond the brush of it. 

Eyes flickered to something hazel. Azriel. He stood in the soil, flora coating his ankles and he struggled to keep a tight leash on the shadows that fought to reach you. 

You looked back at Rhysand. 

“Will it hurt?” 

He shook his head. “No, not if you don’t resist.” 

That suddenly sounded an awful lot like your past. Memories of Rafe pinning you to the bed—scolding, reprimanding, promising no pain if you didn’t resist. 

This wasn’t like that, you had to remind yourself. You were safe. They only wanted to help. To understand. 

Azriel stepped closer, ignoring the silent warning that Rhysand whispered into his mind. A scarred hand out held, you took it. And Rhysand took that moment of distraction to enter your mind. 

The first memory he saw was one from just days before. You and Azriel reading in the library, the shadows that swirled your fingers and arms, the near-kiss that escalated into nothing. 

He dug deeper. The next, of you and Azriel again, exploring the city where you left a trail of green and brown tulips in your wake on the embankment of the river. 

Deeper and deeper, until the memories showed you living in the mortal lands. A blow to the face, to your stomach and your head. Rafe seething above you as he shouted and belittled you. 

Deeper, to a memory of your husband pinning you to the mattress, of his body crushing yours as he stole everything you never offered. 

Every memory Rhysand met, you re-lived them. 

A little deeper and he was watching you at the Archeron household, helping Elain plant seeds, watching Feyre paint, reading with Nesta. 

Deeper and deeper he went, passing the memories of the fire, of your mother, until he found exactly what he was looking for. 

“She is my child too, Selenthia. You cannot keep her from me.” A voice you did not recognise. A memory you did not recall. 

“For her protection, I will do what I must.” Selenthia seethed, coddling you closer to her chest. “No one can know what she is, or she’ll be hunted for the rest of her life.”

The unknown male huffed. He was beautiful. Tall and lean, strong and commanding. But there was something about him. Something not quite right. 

“So you plan to lock her away for the rest of her life?”

Selenthia bared her teeth. “I would never lock my child away. She will live her life as a mortal. I won’t subject her to a life like mine or yours.”

A moment of silence. “You cannot hide her from what she is.” He spoke softer now, edging close to peer at you, his daughter. 

“What do you plan to do when she first bleeds? When her ears point and her power grows—“

“That won’t happen.” There was no room for discussion in Selenthia’s voice. She placed a finger over your heart, a familiar violet glow permitting from her skin to yours. 

“What are you doing?” That male’s voice, cold once more. 

“I’m burying her power. So long as this wyrd remains on her skin, she’ll be safe.”

Selenthia pulled away, just enough to take a look at the mark that marred your skin. A mark two shades darker than the rest of your flesh, the shape of a crescent moon and no larger than a fingernail. 

“There. Nothing more than a birthmark.”

Rhysand retreaded from your mind, panting and shaking. Tears streamed down his flushed face, your own skin staining with silver, too. 

“What is it?” Nesta demanded, daring a step closer. 

But those tulips and daisies and buttercups…the soil and grass and roots, they all began to sink into the ground until nothing but the florals in your hair remained. 

“My mother…she…she was a witch. A healing earth witch. And my father—he…”

“Your father was Fae.” Azriel breathed, his eyes focused on the point of your ears that peeked through your hair and flowers.

“He was of the Night Court. A High Fae male.” Rhysand added gravely. 

Azriel’s hold on the shadows loosened and he allowed them to caress you, comfort you. Your hand never left his. 

You pulled away from Rhysand, clutching at your chest—at that crescent moon you always thought was a birthmark. Your mothers protection all along. 

“When you crossed the wall into the Fae lands, your power tried to break through. It was your mothers mark that had been keeping it buried with you all these years.” 

You dared a look at your cousins. But they looked at you with nothing but sorrow and anguish. No fear. They did not fear you, they did not pity you. In their eyes all you could see was longing. A longing for you to no longer live in such agony and hardships. 

“Our mothers were sisters. Does that mean—“

“I don’t think so,” Rhysand cut you off. “If they held the magic you do, I believe their power would have shown by now. They were Made. So it’s possible the Cauldron could’ve interfered with it if that were the case.” 

It was too much. All of it. Reliving those memories again, seeing your father… You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t have magic and powers. You could not be half Fae, half witch. 

It would be easy to give up. It would be so easy to ignore it until it killed you. So easy to just let go of everything. But a pounding in your soul begged you not to. Begged you to fight with everything you had. Begged you to live. 

“Burn the mark.” 

All attention snapped to you, flickering from your face to the mark on your chest that finally stopped glowing. 

“Are you insane?” Nesta seethed. 

You looked at her. “I don’t think I’d be far off to guess that if I don’t burn this mark, this…power will consume me entirely. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be so lost because I have no idea who I am. This is who I am, whether I like it or not. I won’t run anymore.”

Feyre stepped closer, crouching to your level and taking your spare hand in hers. Azriel still held tight to the other. “If you wish to burn it, it will unleash whatever power you have at full force. You don’t have any training, any control over it.” 

You felt sick to your stomach. “I don’t want to die, Fey.” 

And that was enough to enrage Feyre in a way she’d never once felt before. “You are not going to die. Do you understand me?”

Azriel squeezed your hand, begging for you to look at him. You couldn’t. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him looking at you any different than he had three days ago. 

“Rhys, fetch Madja. We will burn the mark in a controlled environment. Where any fallout can be contained.”

You shook your head, not willing to risk a single soul because of your selfish decision to live. 

“No,” you said. “Drop me to the mountains and I’ll burn it myself.”

Nesta scoffed. “Oh, you are insane.”

You seethed at her. The first ounce of anger you’d truly shown. The first time you’d ever directed it at anyone but yourself. 

“This isn’t your decision. I will not risk anyone. Azriel can take me to the mountains and you can all keep your distance. At least until it’s safe.”

Until it’s safe. As if you knew for certain you’d survive it. You truly weren’t sure you would. There was nothing more to discuss, your tone made that clear enough. 

“Fly me, winnow me…whatever. Just do it now before I change my mind.”

Within a blink, your body was shivering and you were no longer in the House of Wind. Shadows encased your entire body, darkness swarming every inch of you. You said nothing as Azriel held you, nothing at all as he flew you across Velaris and toward the highest mountain just outside of the city. 

Only when he landed, when he refused to remove his hold from you, did the darkness dissipate and hazel eyes gazed into yours. 

“I’m staying with you.” 

“No, you’re not. I won’t risk your life, Azriel.” 

He set you to your feet, holding your hands now to keep you close. A plea of desperation swam in his eyes, his entire body yearning to take you and find another way to fix this. 

“There is no other option. If I don’t burn this mark, I don’t know what my power might do. It might kill me, it might destroy this city. I cannot risk anyone’s life for mine.”

Azriel parted his lips to speak but you shook your head, squeezing his hands. 

“If I don’t survive this—“

“Don’t.”

“Please, listen to me.” Silver lined your eyes, blurring your vision. “If I don’t survive this, I want you to know how special your friendship has been to me. How much I care for you, for your family.” A sob tore through your throat. “And I am so incredibly sorry for burdening you all in this way.” 

You reached on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his. Warmth and love and the most raw emotion could be felt between you both. An apology for not having longer, a prayer that there would still be time. 

A fuse lit within the pit of your stomach, in the pit of Azriel’s. Tears stained your lips, stained his. In that moment, you were one. Whole, as though you always should have been. 

You pulled away first, forcing your hands from his hold. You took several steps back, blinking through the distorted vision and swiping away and evidence of the fear that crippled you. 

A puff of violet darkness misted beside Azriel as Rhysand winnowed to the mountains. Pain flicked through his eyes, regret and the same sorrow you saw in your cousins. 

You did not meet his gaze. 

“Summon a fire.”

He did as you asked. And handed you a blade. 

You did not grant them another look, did not give into the pleading in your mind to watch them leave. Or else you would’ve seen Rhysand drag Azriel off that mountain. You would’ve seen the anguish on the Shadowsingers face. 

Alone. As you had been your whole life. Though the weeks spent in Velaris had given you a taste of what could’ve been. You’d treasure those memories in the Hereafter. Those and the precious ones of your late mother. 

For they were all you had left. 

You did not allow another tear to fall. Not as you hovered the blade over the flame, not as you tugged your shirt down and took a deep breath. 

For if all you were ever meant to be was a ghost in the wind, you were content to know you’d reunite with your mother soon. Where you would no longer feel such pain. 

You didn’t want to die. But if this was all the time you were fated to have, then so be it. Better you than someone else. 

“Keep them safe.” A whisper to the winds, if they deigned to listen. 

With a final breath, you pressed the scorching blade against the mark on your skin and the entirety of your captive power unleashed upon the mountain as your body allowed it to consume you. Until you saw and heard and felt nothing at all. 

From below, the city shook, a thundering boom and a gust of aftershock and pelting mountain debris that blew the Inner Circle back. 

Then there was silence. 

And Azriel’s soul bellowed. 

a/n: so a LOT happened in this chapter and there is still a lot more to happen, i'm hoping i can fit it into two parts but it may be stretched into three, we'll have to see!! i'm so grateful for all the love you guys have been giving this series and i am so excited for you to find out how it all ends!!

if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated <3

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[jjunbug]

THE DOLLMAKER ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸  𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!

you were sunghoon’s muse, his flawless, perfect wife that he dresses in frilly dresses and makes sure you always looked like the idealized woman. that much was evident from all the dolls he made of you that sat proudly throughout your home. but, when sunghoon isn’t there, the dolls move and show you things that would otherwise be hidden in the shadows. one day, they show you something so frightening, something completely sinister that you force yourself to believe that it isn’t real. your beloved husband wouldn’t do something like that, would he? you weren’t so sure about your answer anymore.

pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ established relationship, angsty & mature themes, smut, some fluff, husband & dollmaker!sunghoon, gothic vibes, supernatural elements

warnings ⸝⸝ dark content, heavy dubcon, dollification, mentions of murder and kidnapping, really creepy dolls, sunghoon is actually insane lmao, heavy gaslighting, possessiveness, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, heavy body worship, slow sex to rough sex and back to soft sex (you’ll see), manhandling, handjob, cumshots, clit stimulation, fingering, brief somnophilia, slight dacryphilia, mentions of oral (f. rec), praise, petnames (my love, darling, doll), hair pulling (m. rec), cockwarming, a lot of skinship, teasing, brief nipple play, mentions of aftercare, they are very very codependent, traditional marriage aspects

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ went a bit insane writing this because why is the smut scene alone 5.4k words??? but it’s finally here!! my first post on my new blog (that’s not part of a series) and my first darker content fic!! this was really fun to write and opened a primal lust within me for sunghoon that made me crazier… hehe enjoy loves!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 14.8k ❩    ╱    ❨ 𝓶. list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

You always strived to be nothing short of perfect, and you were immensely proud at the fact that you have never strayed from the path of the idealized woman in the eyes of their beholder.

And you were perfect. The perfect person, the perfect woman, the perfect wife. It was what you were born and bred to be, and with a smile you lived your life knowing that not a single frizzy strand of hair was out of place nor was there a single wrinkle in your dress. You were pretty, pristine, perfect. You’d ask for nothing more.

But, as the days started to pass—and your husband was out later and later for work—you started to hate the idea of perfection. You clawed at it like a noose wrapped around your pretty throat. Gone were the days where you’d be set alight with how well you presented yourself—with how much your husband loved to stare at you. These days, you just wanted to be.

In the beginning, you loved to be under Sunghoon’s watchful eye. You loved how he’d dress you in perfectly fitting clothes suited to what he loved to see you in—frills and lace. Loved how he’d fluff your hair if it was too flat or if it wasn’t up to his standard, or smooth down the fabric of your dress. You loved when he treated you like his perfect little doll. It meant the world to you, especially when it came from such an expert dollmaker like your husband himself. In his eyes, it meant you were the best of the best, that no other doll that he has made could compare—his perfect creation.

Now, the more you think about it, the more your throat closes up. But, as much as you’re growing to hate the idea, you just can’t let go of the deeply rooted perfectionism you still strive for. It’s as if it’s embedded in your skin, as if it’s in the marrow of your bones and in the blood that pumps through your veins. You don’t know how to live a life that isn't perfect, and at this point, you’re too scared to find out what that life entails.

So you put on the dress Sunghoon lays out for you before work and you style your hair just the way he likes it—and you be perfect. Because that is all you know how to do.

You stare at yourself in the mirror in your bathroom, your brows knitted together. Confusion spread throughout your body as you tried to put a name to what you were feeling. Disgust, maybe? Hatred? You didn’t know. Sighing softly to yourself, you picked up your makeup brush and dusted more of the blush onto your cheeks.

Sunghoon had already left for work, so it didn’t even really matter what you looked like right now. You stepped out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. Dolls of various sizes greeted your sight. Some had intricate and realistic outfits, the same ones that you wore, and some of them were more plainly dressed. There were dolls everywhere in your home, even some perched on the open shelves of your kitchen. It was a little girl’s dream home. The most unsettling thing about all the dolls around you no matter where you turned was how much every single one of them resembled you in some way.

It was as if Sunghoon could never quite capture your likeness exactly. With some dolls, their eyes were too big, their lips were too small, or the arch of their brow wasn’t quite right. Sometimes he couldn’t accurately carve the curve of your nose. You knew it drove him mad, not being able to immortalize you in his craft.

“You’re too flawless,” Sunghoon had told you once. You were laying in bed together and the tips of his fingers trailed along your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He used to always give you goosebumps, the good ones. Now it feels more like a chill down your spine.

You stared up at him from your pillow and watched as his eyes devoured your frame. His fingers twitched, briefly stopping their descent back down your arm, and you could tell he had the urge to test his hand at making you again. “I don’t think I’m flawless,” you smile at him, “I’m just as flawed as everyone else—just as human.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked up to your face, specifically to your smile, like he was committing it all to memory. He moved the hand that was trialing your shoulder up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently caressed the soft skin before he grazed it along your lips. There was a certain glint in Sunghoon’s eyes that you knew all too well.

“You’re flawless to me,” he stated. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and pulled it down a little. You watched as his pupils dilated and the mix of lust and fascination that swirled in them grew. Ever so slightly, his eyes widened, too. Sunghoon moved his thumb down to your chin before leaning down to press his lips to yours.

He captured them with a certain roughness—the type that always shocked you with how gentle it initially seemed. Sunghoon’s hand grabbed your chin harder, his fingers creating soft indents into your skin as he leaned your head back and further into the pillow.

You were so moldable for Sunghoon, a shiny lump of clay ready for his skilled hands to turn you into a masterpiece. He hummed into the kiss and his teeth delicately bit down into the flesh of your bottom lip, only enough to not leave a mark. You moaned into his mouth, your arms raising to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer. In response, Sunghoon pulled his lips away from yours. He pressed feather light kisses to your cheek and up to the shell of your ear. “You’re my muse,” he whispered, before his head dipped to the crook of your neck to leave kisses there too.

You suppose that being so perfect wasn’t so bad if it meant that Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off of you—if it meant that he couldn't keep his hands off of his tools to try and remake you over and over again. Perhaps you were viewing it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a noose around your throat, but a pretty handmade necklace crafted by his nimble fingers. If it meant that Sunghoon never leaves, then you could be as perfect as he wanted forever. If it meant that he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes on, then you would be his doll for as long as you lived.

Maybe it wasn’t perfectionism at all, but an act of complete devotion—an act of love.

Sunghoon left open-mouthed kisses along your chest and moved further and further down until the lace of your lingerie blocked his lips from your skin. He pulled away from you fully and looked down at it like he was offended. You squirmed beneath him, your chest heaving as you tried to take in any air that you possibly could. “Please,” you inhaled, looking up at him desperately.

You weren’t quite sure what you were begging for exactly; maybe for his lips to be back on your skin, or maybe for him to quell the heat radiating from your body. “Please,” you said again, your voice coming out quieter and more forlorn.

Sunghoon ran his hands underneath the sheer fabric at your stomach and you gasped at his touch. “So soft,” he sighed contently, hands trailing further up until they physically couldn’t anymore and were blocked by the lace at your breasts. His calloused hands were a stark contrast to your velvety skin and the slight roughness made you shiver.

He pushed the sheer fabric up your stomach with the movement of his hands until the bottom half of your body was completely bare under him. Sunghoon must’ve decided that he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear to take the extra second to lift the lingerie over your head, because the harsh sound of fabric ripping filled your ears and the swift coldness of sudden exposure had you gasping again.

Sunghoon tossed the tattered fabric somewhere off to the side next to the two of you and in the corner of your eye you saw it fall to the floor below. His hands surged upwards, no longer bound by the restraints of your lingerie, and grabbed your breasts. Sunghoon’s thumbs rubbed against your hardened nipples and you arched your back off the mattress to give him more access. His hands dropped down to your thighs and he pushed them towards your stomach as he spread them further apart.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched when his eyes finally got a look at your glistening pussy, completely on display for him. His hand then moved from the back of your thigh and he dragged his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips. “Perfect,” Sunghoon breathed out.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he did to you every night—left you in a heap before cleaning you off and making you new again. You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy. You knew that it was just a morbid curiosity. As long as he remained by your side, you were content in being a pile of doll parts for him to play with as he pleased.

In your bedroom, your eyes landed on a doll that wasn’t there when you had stepped into the bathroom. It sat in the center of your bed, dressed in the same lingerie that Sunghoon had ripped up. It didn’t look at you, but at the entrance of the room, with the hint of a smile that you knew was carved into the doll but couldn’t help but feel was mocking.

No matter how often it happened, you’ll never get used to the fact that the dolls moved around on their own. It only happened when you were home alone. The dolls never dared to move when their maker was home, but you still felt their eyes on you nonetheless. You had told Sunghoon about it—the two of you even waited around to see if one of them would move, but they never did. It was extremely frustrating.

You sighed at the doll and straightened your back. Leaving said doll where it was without a word, you left your room to put a start to your day.

What you weren't expecting was even more moved dolls in your kitchen. You stopped in your tracks as different, mini, and almost identical versions of you stared directly at you from the kitchen table in a circle. Usually it was only one doll that moved here and there, but this many moved dolls in the span of minutes was completely odd. Cautiously, you stalked towards them to see what they were surrounding.

It was the TV remote. You scoffed.

You grabbed the remote with a roll of your eyes. Aiming it towards the tiny box TV in the kitchen, you clicked it on and placed the remote back down onto the table next to the dolls. You let whatever channel it was left on play in the background as you started making breakfast for yourself.

“We’re here with the mother of one of those young girls today. Can you tell us a little about your daughter, ma’am?” you heard the news reporter ask. You took a pan out from under the lower cabinet and placed it onto the stove, ticking on the heat. You watched as a flame ignited, quick and large as lightning, before calming to something smaller.

A grief stricken voice filled your ears next between your soft humming. You didn’t realize that it was the tune Sunghoon always hummed when working from home—something he didn’t do as often anymore. “She was the most beautiful girl in the world—the most gentle and kind. She loved everyone and she loved love. My daughter was the single spark in this bleak night. Please, if you know where she is, please let a mother know.”

You moved about the kitchen, ignoring the way the dolls’ eyes seemed to follow your every move. Cracking the egg, you let it fall into the pan with a sizzle, fanning away the sudden smoke that rises. “The news station also has an anonymous tip hotline open for anyone who may know any information. The search for the six missing girls is still on. This Friday, the mayor will hold another search party and encourages everyone who can to join.”

Turning to throw away the shell of the egg, you caught a glimpse of the TV. “This has been—” You gasped, the shell falling to the tile below with a soft crack as your hand flew to cover your mouth. On the small screen were the pictures of the six missing girls—six missing girls who all looked eerily alike to one another, eerily alike to you. You rushed forward towards the screen, desperately needing to get a closer look at the girls’ image.

Fear and panic prickled at your skin and clawed its way up your throat. What if you were next? What if whoever was taking these girls had their eye on you to take next? You glanced around the kitchen, the dolls suddenly gone from the kitchen table and perched back in their rightful places on various shelves. What if one day you stepped out of your home to run an errand only to be met with a cloth to your nose and mouth?

You began to tremble as you focused your attention back onto the TV. Did the police have anything on who was taking the girls? Any physical descriptions or perhaps a drawing? You waited for the news to mention anything else, but they didn’t. 

Lightheaded, you felt yourself begin to spiral. Your hands grabbed tight to the kitchen counter as you tried to steady yourself and not let the fear cloud your mind. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe you just happened to look like those girls but the perpetrator was after someone else. You inhaled sharply, trying to swallow down the fear and panic and let the oxygen get through instead.

The sudden loud ringing of the smoke alarm startled you and made you jump. The eggs. They were still on the stove! “Oh!” you breathed as you hurriedly moved to turn off the stove. You accidentally stepped on the egg shell in the process. “Oh no,” you said softly under your breath as you moved from the stove to the trash can. You scraped off the burnt eggs, your appetite suddenly gone. You sat the pan in the sink for you to wash later.

Bending down, you meticulously picked up the pieces of egg shells on the floor to throw away as well. When you turned from the trash, there was a singular doll back on the kitchen counter. You jumped again.

It pointed towards the hallway to get to your living room, unblinking. You stared at it for a moment—at yourself. Why were the dolls doing this? “Fine,” you say, smoothing out your dress, “I’ll play along.” You need a distraction from the missing girls anyhow.

You left the kitchen and made your way down the hallway that the doll pointed to. As you slowly made your way down it, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary besides the way the various dolls’ eyes followed you. You make the bend to the end of the hallway and freeze.

At the end of the hallway was the displayed dollhouse that you didn’t touch. Sunghoon didn’t even let you clean it, opting to clean it himself. It meant a lot to him and he took great care for it to be in as pristine condition as possible. The dollhouse was a perfect replica of your home, down to the welcome sign you weaved on the front of the door. You’ve never even seen the inside of it… until now.

There was a crowd of dolls on the ground below it, more than you’ve ever seen moved before, pointing up at the scene portrayed in it. Swallowing thickly, you stepped further forward as a chill ran down your back.

In the dollhouse were only three dolls: one of you, one of Sunghoon, and one that you couldn’t even begin to understand what it could be. You took another cautious step forward, leaning in to get a better look and taking care to not step on any of the dolls. The scene depicted in the dollhouse was quite simple. You were upstairs in you and Sunghoon bedroom, asleep. Sunghoon was in some room you’ve never seen before, carving away at a doll that you could only assume was of you. Behind him was the other doll, covered in different, mismatched layers of fabric. It was so covered by copious amounts of fabric that it didn’t even seem to have the body of a doll anymore. It was almost grotesque looking, in a way.

Very quietly, almost indistinct, you heard the same melody Sunghoon hums when working. Your eyes widened in shock as you furiously tried to digest and decipher the scene. You shook your head a little. “I don’t understand,” you say, the confusion dripping from your voice. “What does this mean? What is that behind him?”

There was a creaking behind you and you swung around at the sound. More dolls were behind you, pointing. You weren’t sure if they were pointing at you or the dollhouse. Maybe it was both. You swung back around to the dollhouse when you heard something move.

Now Sunghoon was in front of the other fabric-covered doll. His doll was slightly bent at the torso and his head was tilted. The thin, wire-framed glasses he wears sat low on his nose bridge. You knew that look—that inspecting look. That morbid curiosity. It felt as if the dolls were screaming at you, “Do you understand now?” You still weren’t sure that you did. Too many puzzle pieces were missing from the board and it hindered you from seeing the whole picture. The sound of Sunghoon’s humming still filled your ears and you didn’t know what to do to stop it.

More creaking and you turned to look behind you. More dolls. They filled the entire hallway, their tiny fingers pointing at you, trying to force you to understand what they were trying to show you. Behind you, the dollhouse began to violently shake and you gasped as you looked at it. Sunghoon was now back in the bedroom with you. He stood over you, his hand hovering over your arm. You knew the action it was trying to convey—you could feel the tips of his fingers trailing up and down your actual arm now, making you shiver.

You stumbled backwards, even more confused and scared at the shaking dollhouse. The front of the dollhouse slammed shut, locking in the scene of you and Sunghoon inside, and stilled. Your chest rose and fell heavily and you clumsily stumbled your way out of the hallway and into the living room, avoiding any pointing doll that you could.

Later that day when Sunghoon came home from work, you didn’t mention the moving dolls or the dollhouse. It was as if nothing happened at all, every doll was where he placed them and the dollhouse was just as pristine as he left it. You especially didn’t dare mention the scenes depicted in the dollhouse. You feared your husband would think you were crazy.

You carried the plate of hot food to where Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table. “Eat up!” you smiled placing the plate in front of him before placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. You felt him smile before you pulled away. You were turning to make yourself a plate when Sunghoon grabbed your wrist to stop you. You jumped, a gasp slipping between your lips. Trying to cover it all up, you turned back to Sunghoon with a smile.

His own smile faltered and his thick brows drew together. “Thank you, darling…” he trailed, the words falling from his lips one by one. “What’s wrong? You’re never so jumpy.”

You’d been jumpy since he got home, still shaken from the morning’s encounter. It was so bad that you nearly burnt yourself on the stove while making dinner, suddenly startled by the sound of the front door opening and Sunghoon returning home from work. When he kissed you hello, his arms coming to wrap around you, you jumped then too. You tried to distract him with your smile, but you should’ve known that nothing gets past your husband.

“It’s nothing,” you say, smiling again and giving him a slight shake of your head. “I guess my body is just getting used to not being by itself now that you’re home.”

Sunghoon sighed and pulled you back towards him by your wrist. You let yourself be pulled into his lap. Sunghoon buried his head in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words coming out muffled. “I know I've been working more and more lately and I haven’t had much time for you.”

You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “Can’t you work from home?” you asked meekly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Like you used to? You work so much and you’re always gone. I miss you when you’re not here, and in return I’m sad the whole day.”

Sunghoon’s black hair tickled you as he lifted his head to press his lips to your neck, right where the thumping of your heart could be felt. His eyes met yours and the gentle pout of your lips. “I don’t have all the tools here that I do at the shop,” Sunghoon responded. When you sighed again and looked away, he continued. “But, I might be able to work from here tomorrow… I already finished most of the workload. We can spend tomorrow together, what do you say to that?”

You glanced back at him, trying to not let the happiness you felt break through your sulky demeanor. Clearly, it didn’t work, because the smile returned back to Sunghoon’s face even larger this time. “I suppose that’s okay,” you grumbled, the smile tugging more at your lips by the second.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Yeah?” You nodded, giggling at the way he dragged his nose along your cheek and the coldness of his glasses. “I love that sound,” he says, holding you closer. “I want to hear it forever.” He pulled away from you just enough to get a good look at your flustered face. Sunghoon brought his lips to yours, capturing them in a sweet and slow kiss.

Giggling more into the kiss, you broke away from him with great effort. “Eat,” you say, standing to your feet. Sunghoon didn’t let you get far. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Your dinner smells amazing, my love, but I think I want something else on the menu,” Sunghoon replies. You swatted him with the kitchen towel hanging from the pocket of your apron, your mouth falling into an open-mouthed laugh. Sunghoon just laughed more. “Do what I said,” you scolded him.

Sunghoon pulled you down to chastely kiss your lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

That night as you were getting ready for bed, you gathered all the courage you had. As you moved about your bedroom, Sunghoon watched you from the bed, his eyes trailing your figure and never leaving it. He was lounged up against the bed frame, his head tilted and the wire frames of his glasses low on his nose bridge as he stared. You were in the middle of brushing your hair, trying your best not to get crushed underneath his heavy stare. You were as bare as you could be without taking your clothes off.

When you stood from your vanity, the flowy fabric of your short nightgown moving with you, you met his gaze. For a moment, neither of you spoke and you just stared at each other. “Those missing girls…” you started, finally finding your voice, “on the news… Isn’t it odd that they favor me?” Your voice shook slightly and you swallowed down the lump forming in your throat.

Sunghoon sat up straighter, his eyes still on you as his brows drew together. You looked away, shakily climbing into the bed next to him. “I-I mean… how they favor each other. And I favor them too, don’t you think?” you continue. You really hoped that you didn’t sound crazy. That your time alone in the house hasn’t started to drive you mad and see things that aren’t there—that aren’t true. Finally getting settled as the words poured from your mouth, you looked over to him. For a split second, his face was completely devoid of anything—no emotion, not even a quirk of his eyebrow, nothing. Then, in a blink of an eye, his face was how it was before you looked away from him. Maybe you were crazy after all.

“I’m scared, Sunghoon,” you said in the gentlest whisper, “What if I’m next?”

“Missing girls?” Sunghoon says, “I’ve heard about them. But, don’t worry—” he reached over to caress your cheek “—I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe here, with me.” His hand on your cheek trailed down to the crook of your neck and then to your shoulder before he pulled you towards him. The two of you laid down onto the bed and Sunghoon enveloped you completely in his arms. You rested your head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “No one but me will ever touch you,” Sunghoon muttered against your hair.

His comforting words did nothing to dispose of the uneasy feeling you still harbored. The images of those missing girls were burned into your mind and every time you tried to close your eyes and sleep, you saw them staring back at you. While Sunghoon fell fast asleep, him still keeping you protectively in his arms, you lied awake.

Your mind shifted from the missing girls, to the moving dolls, and to the dollhouse. What did it all mean? What were they trying to tell you? You went over the scenes portrayed over and over and over again and still didn’t get it. The answer seemed so close, but so far away at the same time. What were you missing?

You thought about the scene of Sunghoon standing over you while you slept. Did he always do that, stare at you like that? How often did he do it? You wanted to ask him, but you didn’t want to risk him thinking there was something wrong with you—didn’t want to risk him thinking that you weren’t flawless like he believes. And the way he trailed his fingers over the soft skin of your arm… Perhaps it was just him checking on you. Maybe he left the room for some water and when he came back he was making sure you were okay. Yeah, that sounded logical.

Him touching you wasn’t something new—he always touched you at any chance that he could. Always admiring every curve and plane of you completely, it’s normal for him to do so. The tension in your shoulders finally dissipated and you relaxed, snuggling more into Sunghoon as you let your tired eyes flutter closed. You didn’t know what the dolls’ game was, but you didn’t like it. Sunghoon was just being a good husband, is all. It even showed subconsciously in the way his hold on you tightened as you leaned into him. He loves you. He’d never do anything that came remotely close to hurting you, ever. You were more sure about that than you were sure about anything in the entire world.

Slowly, you began to drift off—your body getting heavier and heavier in his arms—and you let sleep overtake you.

A couple hours later, you were suddenly awoken by the sound of something falling onto the hardwood floor. You jumped, eyes flying open. You were met with the cold bed, Sunghoon nowhere to be found in your bedroom. Sitting up, you looked around the room to see what fell.

You sighed as your gaze landed on the doll, it was laying on its side on the ground, staring at you. “Enough,” you said lowly, another sigh pulling from deep within you. “I don’t know what you all want from me.”

The moonlight peeked into your bedroom through the curtains and gave a little light to see with in the dark. You slipped from the bed, deciding to see where Sunghoon was. Smoothing down your bedridden hair and wrinkly nightgown, you opened the door to your bedroom and was immediately met with another mini doll version of you waiting by the top of the stairs. You couldn’t keep doing this.

You passed the shelves on the wall filled with dolls of you and other trinkets as you made your way towards the stairs. You didn’t even give the doll a second look as you made your descent down them.

Sunghoon wasn’t in the kitchen either, but there was another doll there, pointing down the hall again. You tilted your head up at it and followed its directions. He wasn’t in the lounge room or the dining room either. You turned the corner in the hallway and your eyes landed on the closed dollhouse. It was backlit by the hallway sconce, the light making the dollhouse look illuminated.

You dipped into the living room and Sunghoon wasn’t there either. None of the bathrooms were occupied as well. You were convinced that he just wasn’t in the house at all. You stood in front of the dollhouse, annoyance coming off you like steam. Your arms were folded across your chest and you glared at it. It was closed this time, and you were deciding on whether it was not to play into the dolls’ game and open it or just go back to sleep and question Sunghoon in the morning. Alas, you were too curious for your own good.

You slowly opened the front of the dollhouse, expecting to see some confusing scene waiting for you inside. Instead, there was only one doll inside—the grotesque looking one covered in different scraps of fabric. It was in the same exact place that it was in earlier, except this time there was no doll of Sunghoon inspecting it. It was alone.

Taking a closer look, you tried to figure out where this mystery room supposedly was in your home. In the dollhouse, it was located between the living room and the hallway bathroom. You looked at the hallway you were currently standing in with its own mini dollhouse inside. Your brows knitted together in even more confusion. According to the dollhouse, the room should be right where you were standing.

That couldn’t be right, unless the room was in front of you and behind the wall where the dollhouse was displayed. Closing the front of the dollhouse, you moved closer to the wall, inspecting it. There was no outline of a suspected door, no uneven floorboards that could suggest the entrance was underneath you. There was only the hallway, the small bookshelf filled with your cookbooks and Sunghoon’s doll making books, and the dollhouse. You placed your ear against the wall; maybe if there was a room behind it you could hear something.

After a few moments, you almost gave up, deciding not to play the game anymore and just go to bed. But, right when you were about to lift your ear from the wall, you heard something—humming.

It was the same tune you hummed earlier, the same tune Sunghoon hums when working. The same tune Sunghoon hummed when the dolls showed you him working in the dollhouse. This time, you knew it was real. You stumbled backwards from the wall, your elbow knocking the doll over that was suddenly perched there. You gasped before quickly covering your mouth.

Frozen in fear, you swear you heard the humming abruptly stop. You then heard slight creaking, like someone was walking towards you. Scurrying back around the curve of the hallway, you peaked around it to see if anything else would happen.

What if Sunghoon wasn’t even in there. What if it was some stranger living in your walls, and you were just assuming that it was him—that the dolls thought it was him. Or, maybe they were trying to warn you of the stranger in a way that they knew you would listen. What if Sunghoon wasn’t in the house at all right now? Your hand pressed harder into the wall and you began to shake.

More creaking broke through the air, and you watched as the small bookshelf slowly began to push off the wall like a make-shift door. You ducked further behind the wall, just enough to ensure you weren’t seen. You saw a shadow dancing across the floor as the bookshelf slowly closed again.

You were so scared they could hear how fast your heart was beating. So sure that they could feel how hard you trembled through the floor. Hear your heavy breathing like a hawk listening for its prey.

The shadow got larger and you saw a figure start to be illuminated by the light on the wall. A hand reached from the shadows and towards the doll of you that had fallen over—Sunghoon’s hand. He stepped into the light and you could finally see him clearly; saw the way the warm light bounced off his skin, the way the light reflected off his glasses, and how his dark hair fell into his eyes. You pressed your fist to your mouth to keep quiet.

Why did Sunghoon have a secret room in the house? Why did he never tell you about it?

He fixed the doll; shifting its dress so it laid properly and flattened its messed up hair. You saw the corners of his mouth raise as he placed the doll back on the shelf above the dollhouse. It’s big eyes bored into you.

Without a sound, you made your way back to your bedroom as quickly as you could. You closed your bedroom door silently and slipped back into bed, willing your body to stop shaking and your breath to even out. You closed your eyes.

You tried to remember what the inside of the secret room looked like from the dollhouse. From what you could remember, it looked to be some sort of workshop, similar to the one Sunghoon would have at the shop. If it was just a simple place for him to carve dolls, why hide it? It was possible he kept it hidden so you wouldn’t worry about how much he was working. Sunghoon knew how much you disliked him getting obsessed with his work, always carving and shaping dolls until the tips of his fingers were scarred. You relaxed again.

You’d be upset and worried, yes, but he didn’t have to hide it from you. You would understand his dedication to his craft.

A couple moments later, you heard the door knob twist. As you heard Sunghoon’s footsteps near you, you hoped you looked like you were still asleep. His presence covered you like a blanket. Just before you could feel the heat of his fingertips on your skin, you turned to look at him.

With false sleepiness in your voice, you ask, “Why are you out of bed?”

Sunghoon smiled down at you, lightly shaking his head. His hand caressed your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, my love. I was just getting a jumpstart on work so we could have more time together. Go back to sleep.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he was trying to lull you back to sleep with his voice alone.

You sat up more. “Well, I’m not tired anymore,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips. Sunghoon’s hand at your shoulder raised to smooth your hair before coming to your chin to lift it up. He leaned forward and delicately pressed a kiss to your lips. “No?” he asked in that same soft and gentle voice.

Sunghoon was already climbing on the bed and on top of you before finishing his question. He placed more delicate kisses around the edges of your mouth, his hands dipping lower. You shook your head. His hands slowly lifted your nightgown up your stomach. “You’re sure you aren’t tired anymore?” Sunghoon asked, the corner of his mouth raising ever so slightly. He was lifting the nightgown over your head so you were in nothing but your panties underneath him.

Light giggles left your mouth as you shook your head again, “Yes.”

Sunghoon’s fingers hooked underneath the hem of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your thighs. His eyes were completely focused on the way each tug revealed more and more of your cunt and how it glistened with the strips of moonlight coming through the window. You heard him exhale softly, like he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “Fuck…” he muttered lowly, “I don’t think I’ll ever get use to seeing this, and it’s all for me to admire.”

He fully pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere to the side of the bed. Sunghoon spread your legs open and pushed them up towards your chest so he got an even clearer view—just like he always did before taking you apart. He moved his hands so they splayed out on the back of your thighs right near your pussy he was still admiring. You squirmed a little, the air suddenly cold on your skin and from laying there completely open for him as you waited. “Entirely,” you said hushed, looking up at him. His glasses reflected the moonlight and covered the look in his eyes. “It will always be all for you—I’ll always be all, entirely yours.”

You gasped, body jolting when a thumb was pressed into your eager cunt. Sunghoon ran his thumb along your folds, collecting the gathering slick that was forming by the second. Bringing his other thumb to your cunt, he spread you apart even more, like he wanted to watch the arousal drip out of you himself. A soft whine left your lips. You were completely naked and under your husband’s watchful eye while Sunghoon was still completely dressed. He hasn’t even pulled his pajama pants down despite the way you saw him strain against the thin fabric.

“Is that so?” Sunghoon asked, his gaze finally flicking up to you. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and you inhaled sharply when you finally saw that all too familiar dark look in his eyes. It reminded you of the way people dissected animals, excited to see its insides and how the body worked. Just beneath it you saw his intensely desperate, fiery hot need for you. The two expressions folded on top of each other over and over like an endless piece of paper, like he couldn’t decide what made him more excited. But, you knew which one would win tonight—which one always won.

You nodded slowly at his question. After all, no matter how bitter the idea of perfection tasted in your mouth, it was nothing compared to the sweetness of your husband’s love. It overshadowed everything, clouded your mind until you could think of nothing else. You lived for it, you’d do anything for it—to keep it. And Sunghoon, he loved you for it. So, the cycle continued until you forgot what the bitter aftertaste even belonged to.

Was it so wrong for you to love the suffocating attention he gave you once he wasn’t busy? Maybe. Maybe you should feel some shame for how obsessed you were with Sunghoon. But, at least you knew the feeling was mutual. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be surrounded by a house full of dolls that looked nearly identical to you made all by his hands. Right? Doll making was a labor of love, and Sunghoon never shied away from showing you how much he loved you.

Sunghoon leaned over you. You felt his arms brush against your thighs as he pushed his soft pajama pants down. His face hovered over yours and you stared at him with big, doe eyes. His lips brushed against yours, pulling away slightly when you tried to chase them. Sunghoon tossed his pants and boxers to the side and you felt his cock slap against your thigh, sending a wave of arousal throughout your entire body. The entire time, Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours. “Like my own, personal little doll,” he continued, his voice low. “The real thing, not any of these flawed imitations. Complete perfection, and all under my hands to do with as I see fit.”

His lips captured yours in an unexpectedly rough, hungry kiss. He moved further over you until his body shadowed you. His hands were on either side of your head as he pinned you to the bed with his body, the kiss deepening and growing hungrier. Sunghoon pulled away from you, lips plumped and wet with saliva that still connected his lips to yours. He tenderly caressed your cheek and asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”

With his other hand, Sunghoon grabbed his cock so he could line himself up with your entrance. He quirked a thick eyebrow as he waited for your answer, eyes trailing the way your chest rose and fell heavily and your breasts pushed more against his own chest. “How much,” he continued, slowly slipping the tip of his cock inside you, “I’d do for you? How I’d do anything?” Your mouth fell open as your back arched slightly at the action. Sunghoon’s gaze returned to you, his hips halting once his thick tip was completely inside you. “Do you?” Sunghoon asked you once again, his heavy gaze weighing down on you.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart. You used to be scared every time it happened, still not learning to expect it. You should be ashamed that you did let it happen. But, as time went on, you began to like being taken apart; began liking how each time you’d blink away the fog, you were more perfect in his eyes.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply. “I do,” you say quietly, meeting his swirling dark stare. “And I love you just as much. I’d do just as much.”

“No,” Sunghoon spoke plainly. You drew your brows together, confused. “The way I love you, it’s… cavernous. Deep and dark—pitch-black. There is no end, no beginning, it just is.” His hand trailed down to your chin. “It consumes me, my love for you. I can’t control it… I can’t control the things I’d do to ensure you’ll always love me. And you will… won’t you? Always love me?” Sunghoon asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“Yes,” you say meekly. Despite the way Sunghoon’s body blocked the little light in the room, you could still see the way he fought the darkness inside of him. “I’ll forever love you. There’s nothing that would ever change that, Sunghoon. I promise.”

Sunghoon’s body relaxed over you, and his eyes briefly fluttered shut as he shakily breathed in to further calm himself. “Good…” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear despite him being so close. “Because sometimes… The thought of you no longer loving me… i-it drives me completely insane.” His grip on your chin tightened and he bent down to sloppily kiss your lips. Sunghoon’s lips slowly worked against yours, like he was using you to calm himself even more. Like he was basking in your love for him like you did with his love for you.

He pulled away, just enough that with each word from his mouth, his lips brushed against yours. “It makes me want to rip you limb from limb. Polish all the parts so you can see it—see how much my love for you breaks me apart.” With a harsh thrust, Sunghoon pushed himself into you completely. You cried out, the sound being muffled by his lips so close to yours. Your nails dug into his shoulders at the action. Sunghoon pulled out of you until just the fat tip of his cock remained inside. With each word, he thrusted into you. “My sweet love, my perfect wife, my doll.”

Loud gasps rang from your mouth and Sunghoon took your hands from his shoulders and pinned them above your head with one of his own. His eyes never once left yours. He wanted to see how you cracked and shattered beneath him. He wanted to witness it. Sunghoon trailed his other hand down the side of your face, his thumb running over the soft skin of your cheek before it moved closer to your mouth. His eyes shined when he dipped his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly swirled your tongue around it, his own mouth opening. Sunghoon’s pace slowed as if he was remembering himself. The languid strokes drove you crazy and your hips lifted off the bed to gain more friction.

It was a constant back and forth of back to back harsh thrusts that felt like it was splitting you open to slow, sweet thrusts that had you begging for more. With your arms pinned about you, you couldn’t even really move besides the slight lift of your hips, and they could only lift so high with how close Sunghoon pressed himself into you. He had complete control over you; over how you moved, how deeply and at what pace you felt him, and over what sounds you made with his thumb in your mouth. Your eyes began to get glassy with how much you wanted him.

You guessed that you liked being used—liked being his toy, his plaything. You guessed that you liked feeling desired, feeling like his doll. You glanced around your bedroom, back arching and loud, unashamed moans falling from your lips at the way Sunghoon fucked you. It felt as if every single doll was looking at you, watching you. Watched you succumb to your husband and watched as the cracks in your porcelain body began to crumble. Watched how you loved every second of it. How wet it made you to the point that Sunghoon was slipping in and out of you with ease and how the vulgar gushing sounds bounced off the walls.

Sunghoon’s pace slowed and he watched how his cock slowly disappeared into you before he slowly pulled it back out and examined how it dripped with your arousal. A soft chuckle left his parted lips as he did it over and over. You clawed at his arm still holding yours above your head, a loud whine came from the bottom of your throat and your body shifted in any way that it could to feel him deeper, to have his cock drag against your walls faster.

He replaced his wet thumb with his mouth, completely silencing your moans and whines. Sunghoon’s mouth worked slowly against yours once again, soft groans vibrating against your lips as he kissed you.

“You feel so good,” Sunghoon whined, barely able to get his words out before his lips were back on yours. He let out another moan, his shallow strokes growing quicker. “Taking everything I give you so well, my love. It’s like your body was made for mine.” Sunghoon finally let go of your arms, giving your body some space as his lips traveled down to your chest. He left wet kisses all over it, teasingly kissing around your perked nipples while you dragged your hands through his hair and pulled at the tips of the strands. Everytime his lips touched your skin it felt like white-hot coals were being placed on you where they touched. Sunghoon looked up at you over the rim of his glasses, lips pressed to your skin with a hint of a smile. “Do you feel good, darling?”

Sunghoon’s hips picked up speed, just barely, but enough to make your head spin wildly. His pace was agonizing and you were sure your frustration showed in how you tugged harder at his hair and pulled his head back and the way your hips pathetically raised to meet his. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and he let out a laugh. “Please,” you begged him, your eyes filled with unfallen tears, “please.”

He sat up, lips brushing against your skin one last time before he pulled away. Sunghoon pushed down on your hips with his hands to stop them from moving, his own still continuing at that agonizing pace. “Please, what?” he asked, head tilted to the side as he watched you squirm beneath him and claw at the bedsheets. “What are you begging me to do to you?”

You whined when his hands moved up to your waist and sent tingles throughout your body. Through your blurry, tear-filled eyes you could see his smile. Pitiful moans escaped your mouth and your chest rose and fell so heavily you would’ve thought you weren’t breathing at all—instead trying to gasp in gulps of breath. “Please,” you begged again. Sunghoon inhaled sharply at the way you clenched down on him, at how your whiny moans filled his ears and the way the corners of your eyes flooded with tears. He halted his movements and pulled out of you completely.

“No, no, no!” you cried and leaned up to reach for him. He pushed you back down to the bed gently. Sunghoon’s own breathing picked up as his wet cock hovered over you. He took one of your hands in his and guided it towards it. “I’ll continue once you can tell me—” his breath hitched once your hand wrapped around his thick length “—what you want.” Sunghoon guided your hand up and down his cock slowly, his hand tightening on top of yours so you squeezed him more. His breath shuddered as he watched your hand work, his stomach tightening every time your hand squeezed his mushroom tip. He moaned again at how easily your hand slipped over him from your arousal, and his moans grew louder when he’d move his hips to force your hand back down his length again and again.

“Tell me…” he breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed, once you still didn’t give him an answer. Sunghoon’s hands laid flat against the back of your thighs—right next to where you needed him the most.

“I… I-I want you…” you stuttered out, voice small. Sunghoon hummed in question, bringing his thumb to your clit. He rubbed circles into it at the same speed he moved his hips. You gasped, back involuntarily arching off the bed. Your hand paused mid-stroke of his cock before his hips rutting against it stirred you back into action. “Closer…” Sunghoon says through a grunt, “but, I’m going to need more than that from you, my love. Don’t you want to be good for me and do what I asked?”

A soft whine left his lips when you squeezed a little too much at the base of his cock. “I want to hear those pretty moans of yours as I fuck you with my cock… see your pretty face as you cum around it. Won’t you give that to me? Do you really want to settle for my fingers tonight, darling?” Sunghoon continued.

How could you tell him what you really wanted? Explain the deepest desire that you had right now? He told you about his inner battle with how much his love for you consumes him. He told you the things that it made him want to do. You wanted him to let go and do it. You wanted him to wipe you clean so you watched it all—saw it all. Enough with holding back—like he tried to do every single night without fail. It was no use when you both knew what was coming. You wanted him to lose control. You wanted that swirling darkness in his eyes to take over. You wanted him to do what he said he wanted to do if you didn’t feel the same way he felt about you. How do you express that to him?

“Do it…” you say, your words coming out strained. A sweet moan left your mouth and you looked him dead in the eyes as the tears finally slid down your hot cheeks. “I w-want you… to do it.” Your voice was just above a whisper, loud enough that only his ears could hear your words despite being the only two people in the entire house. You squeezed down onto his thick cock more as your wrist worked harder. The hand he wasn’t using to rub circles into your puffy clit grabbed your thigh tighter, his fingers surely leaving indents into the plush skin. Sunghoon’s head hung lowly as he tore his gaze away from yours and went back to watching your hand.

Sunghoon plunged two fingers deep inside your dripping entrance and you felt like you could finally feel the oxygen reach your lungs. He pushed them in and out of you, his gaze flicking over to his movements instead of yours to relish in the way his fingers came back out more and more wet. As his fingers curled inside you, causing breathy moans to leave your willing lips, you watched the way his stomach tensed and his hips faltered. Without saying a word, you could tell what was running through his mind right now. You could see his eyes grow more and more darker, fill up more and more with desire. Sunghoon finally looked back up at you, his wire-framed glasses low on his nose bridge. “Do what?” he asks, his voice just as quiet as yours was.

You didn’t have to say anything else. Sunghoon’s hips froze and his stomach tightened even more as a pretty moan ripped straight through him. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingering waned and you lifted your hips to chase his hand. Sunghoon’s warm cum shot all over your stomach and splattered up to your breasts in thick spurts. He let out another moan, this one dragging out from deep within him as his body finally relaxed. You helped him through it all—hand never stopping as he rode out his high and marked more of your stomach with his cum until you were painted a creamy white and he was completely empty.

His eyes blinked open and he looked down at how messy you were. Something in his demeanor shifted as his eyes grazed over you and you couldn’t tell what had changed until he looked at you. You inhaled sharply at his stare, your breathing picking up. His own chest still heaved from his recent release. Sunghoon took his wet fingers out from your cunt, taking a moment to drag them through your folds to spread your arousal even more, all while his eyes never left yours. Gone were the barriers that held him back, that darkness took him over full force.

Meek whimpers escaped your lips and you dug your nails into the bedsheet beneath you. “You like being my doll, don’t you?” Sunghoon asks. His voice was almost flat, and he was still speaking in that hushed tone. His expression was decidedly blank except for the subtle way his brows drew together. “Don’t you?” he asked a little louder when you didn’t answer him. His hands squeezed the back of your thighs and his fingers dug into the soft skin there. You timidly nodded, not daring to look away.

His hands relaxed and his thumbs brushed over where his fingers dug into you comfortingly, his eyes finally leaving yours. Sunghoon grabbed his cock and rubbed his flushed tip in between your folds, the wet sounds it made piercing the silent bedroom. “You know,” he starts, his voice no longer so low, “you really are truly flawless, doll. My muse…”

Sunghoon is already slipping back inside you before you can process the way his thick cock completely stretches you open. You cry out as more unshed tears fall from your eyes. He continues, “It angers me how much I can’t capture you fully. How none of these dolls can compare to the real thing—the real you. It makes me… so angry…”

He’s pulling back his hips as he speaks, the tip of his cock just barely leaving your pussy, before he roughly thrusts his cock back inside of you. Another loud moan emits from you and your vision blurs from more tears as your face gets hot. You could barely hear Sunghoon’s wry laugh over the sudden ringing in your ears.

Sunghoon’s pace is brutal, and you’re suddenly regretting whining so much about how slow he was once going. It gave you whiplash, how fast he fucked into you, and the only thing you could do to keep yourself grounded is tightly wrap your hands around his wrists at your hips. Your arms smeared and got sticky with his cum but you didn’t care. With each thrust, your body shook and pushed you further into the mattress. With your iron-clad grip on Sunghoon’s wrists, your tits pushed together and bounced in accordance with his hips against yours. Sunghoon was fucking you like he wanted to break you in half.

“S-Slo—” you tried to speak but was cut off by the waves of sudden pleasure hitting you one after the other. Sunghoon just shushed you, his hands pulling your hips towards his so you’d feel him deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you couldn’t think about anything other than the way he was making you feel so, so good. You wanted to feel this way forever. Wanted him to stay lost so you never escaped this feeling of immense pleasure. Wanted him to use you to take out his anger at himself—at you—like you meant absolutely nothing, just a doll for him to handle and put back in its place.

You adore it, the way he makes you feel.

Such nasty sounds fill the air, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care about it. If anything, it turned you on more just how loud and demanding to be heard it was. With how much the sounds of the sex the two of you were having penetrated your ears, you would’ve thought that you’d be getting multiple noise complaints at any moment. You both definitely weren’t trying to be quiet in the slightest.

Between your moans, you heard Sunghoon speak. “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” His voice was almost scarily plain, like he thought this over time and time again before. You blinked away tears and finally got a clear view of him and the way he stared down at you with a hint of a smile, head tilted as he watched you crack and begin to fall into yourself. “Forever my perfect little doll, to bend—” he pushed your knees closer to your chest so you were practically folded in half “—and to break—” he roughly thrusted into you once more, his hint of a smile growing into a smirk as you clenched down on him “—and to put back together and play with as I please.”

“Sunghoon,” you sobbed as your stomach tightened and you started to shake. You didn’t get the chance to get another word out before you were violently orgasming, your cum pouring out of you and leaving a white ring around the base of Sunghoon’s cock as he roughly fucked it back into you. Wet, gushing sounds came from his cock plowing into your pussy and your cum poured out from around him and down the curve of your ass. You could scream at the sudden overstimulation.

“That’s my girl,” Sunghoon says as he watched you shatter. He used your hands still limply wrapped around his wrists to pull you up off the bed and halfway into his lap, his cock still buried within you. One of his hands supported your back and the other came to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Pretty dolls don’t cry.”

Sunghoon brought your hands to his shoulders and you held tightly onto the soft fabric of his shirt. His own hands dragged down the expanse of your stomach and he wrapped one of his arms around your back. Sunghoon lowered his head so he could look you in your eyes, his free hand lifting your chin to raise your head more. “I love you,” he murmured, pausing a beat to make sure you heard him, before roughly moving his lips against yours and cutting off one of your watery whines.

Your hands moved from Sunghoon’s shoulders to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you. You deepened the kiss, letting Sunghoon open your mouth so his tongue could slip in and dance with yours. You’d give anything to keep his lips on yours forever.

Sunghoon began to thrust into you again, his hips moving slow at first before they rapidly picked up pace. You moaned against his lips, your eyes squeezing shut. You felt Sunghoon’s lips pull into a smile, “I love you so much.” He said it like it was a confession.

Head falling into the crook of his neck, you cling to him tighter with your last remaining strength and whimper into his warm skin. Your body shook all over until it felt like you might explode. It felt like Sunghoon kept repeatedly turning and turning the winding key in your back, going way beyond the motor’s limitations. It made you nervous for when he would let go and you would burst into action.

His deep moans and grunts rang in your ear and his arm around your back tightened. With his other hand, he pulled you back so he could look at you. Your face was tear-streaked, splotchy with drying tears and you tried to not cry even more. Your brows were knitted together from the overstimulation and whimpers fell from your lips. Sunghoon’s cum stuck to your stomach and your forearms and parts of his shirt, your own cum covered your pussy and Sunghoon’s cock. You were a mess.

Over and over, three words came from Sunghoon’s lips like a mantra as he filled you up with his cum to the brim and past that too. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

Finally, silence rang through the air besides both of your heavy breathing. After another moment, your body finally stilled. The silence was so thick that you felt like you couldn’t move at all. Delicately, like he held the shards of you in his hands, Sunghoon laid you back down onto the bed. He pressed feather-light kisses to your jaw and cheeks before they finally landed on your lips.

You were so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings that you couldn’t feel anything at all. Your head was still foggy and your only penetrating thoughts swirled around him. Despite your eyes being wide open, your vision was cloudy.

Sunghoon kissed you again. “Stay here,” he says, pushing away from you. Your arms fell to your sides limply. He leaned back and pulled his cock out of you, eyes shining with adoration at the way yours and his mixed cum spilled out and dirtied the bedsheets. Sunghoon rubbed the tip of his cock through it a couple times, ignoring how you squirmed and whined. “Absolute perfection,” he said under his breath before standing to his feet.

You laid there on the bed, still spread open and a mess of cum, as your eyes went in and out of focus. When the clouds in your vision did part, all you saw were all of the dolls and how they stared at you. Sunghoon came back a couple moments later, his face coming into focus as the moonlight bounced off his glasses. He climbed over you and began cleaning you up.

You were barely aware of the way he meticulously made sure every nook and cranny was polished nor how he moved you to put new bedsheets on the bed. Your mind didn’t start to come back to you until he was pulling you over him and sitting you onto his cock. You came alive at his hands trailing the expanse of your body before landing on your hips. You moaned quietly, your gaze dripping to look down at him. The darkness in his eyes was not quite all the way gone.

Sunghoon brought you down to lay on his chest. “I could fuck you all night…” he trails and his voice vibrates throughout your whole body as he shallowly thrusts up into you, “and into the morning, too.” His hips stilled and instead his fingers caressed your back. “But then we wouldn’t have the full day together, would we, my love?”

You shook your head slightly and Sunghoon wrapped an arm possessively over you before pulling the blankets overtop of you both, his other arm caging you against him completely. As the moonlight filtered through the window of your bedroom, the two of you slowly fell asleep.

In the morning, you were awoken by kisses on your neck and your pussy fluttering around Sunghoon’s slow strokes. He lifted your leg into the air and you turned your body towards the warmth at your back, blinking away sleep. You hummed, a soft whine pulling from your throat as you looked at him.

His glasses were off, which let you know that it hadn’t been long since he woke up himself. Sunghoon leaned down to press his lips to yours, his cock still dragging at a snail’s pace against your walls. “Are you sore?” he asks, pulling away from your lips to kiss your shoulder.

You nodded. Him still inside you, lazily fucking into you felt good, but you couldn’t ignore the way he stretched you open and the deep soreness that came from it. “A little,” you say.

Sunghoon turned you onto your back so you laid beneath him and he pulled out of you completely. “I’m sorry, my love,” he says and his lips meet yours again. “Let me make you feel better.”

He kissed your lips once more and started trailing kisses down to your jaw and along the length of your neck. Sunghoon looked up at you through the strands of his black hair, kissing lower down your body to your breasts, his hands massaging them as he kissed at your perked nipples. Soft moans left you at his touch.

His kisses spread to your stomach, to your hips, and finally right above where you were already wet for him. He spread your legs open more. “I’ll be gentle,” Sunghoon says, placing a kiss to your clit before his tongue poked out to lap at your entrance.

Without Sunghoon around, the idea of perfection was bitter on your tongue—acidic in your chest. But, when your beloved husband was around, finally in your arms again, you understood why people strive for it. You love it.

If perfection was how Sunghoon saw you, then you’d forever be the most absolutely perfect person, woman, wife you could be.

Days pass and you are once again left alone in the vastness of your home. Sunghoon stood true to his word as best as he could, spending as much time with you when he didn’t have to work, but it still wasn’t enough. The house still felt empty, and the occasional early nights when he would come home didn’t help.

It felt like the early nights home he took came at a price. Most nights when he would finally walk through the front door, you were already asleep or close to it. He would wake you up with a kiss and a content sigh. It made your chest ache even more than it already did when he is away.

You were in the middle of washing the dishes, mind trailed off to someplace else as you idly let the sounds of the TV float around you. “The search for the six missing girls is still going strong. Police still has not found the perpetrator, but an interview earlier with the Chief says that they are very close to finding out who has taken these girls. Our anonymous tip hotline is still up and running for anyone who may have any valuable information on where these girls might be.”

The words brought you back to life, and you gasped quietly as you looked towards the tiny screen. You examined the bold numbers at the bottom of the screen. It reminded you of the secret room behind the dollhouse that you completely forgot about. You quickly finished the dishes, leaving them in the strainer to dry completely as you dried your wet hands.

Slowly, you took quiet steps towards the hallway where the dollhouse was displayed. You looked to the front door to ensure that it was still locked. Sunghoon could walk through it at any moment and you didn’t want him to know that you knew about his secret workshop before you had the chance to see what was inside.

You recalled the way the door to the room opened—the pushed opened small bookshelf that revealed the make-shift door. You tip-toed to the bookshelf, examining its sides and the books on it.

You didn’t really look at the books on the bookshelf besides your own cookbooks. Sunghoon’s doll making books were something you rarely touched, if at all. But, you took a hard look at those too, your fingers running over the spines. They all felt like books, the spines hard and sturdy, but something about them still felt off to you. You looked at Sunghoon’s books again, pulling each one out a little to take a peek at the covers.

In the middle of you pulling one of the books, you heard a quiet click and the bookshelf came loose from the wall. You took a step back, shock showing all over your face. Gently, you grabbed the side of the bookshelf and pulled.

The bookshelf creaked open and revealed an opening that you had to bend down a little to enter. When you stepped inside the surprisingly large room, your eyes did a sweep of what was inside. You froze, your stomach dropping as you stared at what was in front of you, absolutely horrified. You didn’t even really know what was in front of you… It looked like an amalgamation of various body parts, stitched and sewn into one. Its skin was weirdly shiny, almost like it was made of some kind of plastic or resin while still keeping its elasticity.

You disregarded the rest of the room, instead taking careful steps towards the strange creation in front of you. It didn’t look neither dead nor alive and that confused you even further—it barely looked human. Its eyes and lips were sewn shut and it was completely hairless. It was held up onto its feet by long strips of silk hanging from the ceiling that was tied around its naked body. Next to where it stood was a table with thick locks of hair tied with ribbons of your favorite color.

Maybe this was the final crack in your mind and it was crumbling completely, but it kind of looked like you too. Even the hair on the table matched yours perfectly. If you looked past all the stitches, the weird shiny skin, and the lack of hair, it almost seemed like you were looking in a mirror. It looked like an unfinished, life-sized doll of you. Your stomach turned in on itself.

The fear in you raised tenfold in you when it started to twitch. You took a couple steps back from it when it began to pull on its restraints a little. It seemed to start to panic and its shiny arms pulled at the restraints keeping it up even more as it tried to reach out to you. You jumped back more, fearful tears filling your eyes. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words would come out.

The uncanny creation tried to speak, though, before realizing that its mouth was sewn shut. When it began to frightfully hum—the sound off tune and terrifying—did your body start to feel heavy and limp. It pulled at its restraints with all the little strength it had as it reached out to you and began to hum wildly… it hummed Sunghoon’s melody, the one he hummed when he worked.

Realization hit you like a tsunami. Not only was you dear husband making dolls of you, but he was trying to make a real, life-sized human doll of you. And it seemed that every part of this surreal creation was taken from another until it resembled you as close as he could get it. Your mind flashed to those six missing girls—the six missing girls that all looked eerily similar to you. Despite having all the puzzle pieces right in front of you, your mind refused to see the whole picture.

You backed up further, the back of your thighs hitting the desk that was against the back wall near the make-shift door. You twisted towards it, chest heaving as you scanned the scattered papers and opened books. You picked up what looked to be a journal Sunghoon kept and read over the open page with trembling hands.

The entry remarked at how the experiment was working well and how none of the body parts were rejecting like they did before. He praises how the process was much smoother than last time, how the girls he chose were the perfect fit. The journal dropped from your hands.

Those girls going missing due to Sunghoon was no longer speculation. Your eyes snapped back to his “experiment.” It must be those poor girls, their bodies sewn into one to look like you. You still didn’t want to believe it.

Tears poured from your eyes as fear sunk its claws deep within you and forced its way down your throat and into your heart. Your entire world came crashing down around you and quiet sobs left your mouth as you fought against the idea that your husband wasn’t who he said he was—that he was a kidnapper, a killer.

You rushed forwards, your arms raised towards his creation before you wrapped them around yourself and remained a safe distance. “No!” you exclaimed as you rapidly shook your head. “No, this is all a misunderstanding—a mistake! Sunghoon wouldn’t do this… He isn’t that type of person!” You wiped at your eyes, almost believing your own words until you dropped your hands.

Dolls completely surrounded the peculiar creation—Sunghoon’s experiment. It was even more that the ones that surrounded you in the hallway when they were showing you the scene in the dollhouse. They all looked at you for a moment before slowly turning to look up at how the amalgamation of stolen girls thrashed towards you, still frantically humming.

The dollhouse.

It was a warning. Those scenes the dolls showed you… it was all a warning. This was what they were trying to tell you this entire time. This wasn’t just any ordinary experiment for Sunghoon, a dollmaker going completely mad in his craft—no. This experiment was for you. He was using these girls, tearing apart their bodies limb from limb and creating some freakish doll of them that was meant to be you. It was practice… He was doing all of this so he knew exactly what to do when he laid his tools down and cut into the real thing. You were next.

Sunghoon’s words rang in your ears and bounced around in your head: “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” You finally understood it now.

Suddenly, all thrashing ceased and the humming finally abruptly stopped. The only thing that filled the silence was your muffled sobs. “I’m sorry,” you cried, unsure if it even heard you. “I’m so sorry.”

You stumbled towards the opening of the room and barely missed hitting your head on the way out. You didn’t even wait for the bookshelf to click back into place before rushing through the hallway and to the kitchen. For once in your entire life, you hoped that Sunghoon had a long night at work.

Nearly falling into the kitchen counter, you shakily grabbed the landline on the wall. Those bold numbers of the anonymous tip hotline flashed behind your eyes and you rushed to put in the numbers, putting the ringing phone to your ear. “This is the anonymous tip hotline for the six missing girls. Please only share useful tips that could help a breakthrough in the case. Do you have any information to share?”

Your breathing came out heavy and you tried to force the oxygen to reach your lungs, inhaling sharply as you tried to find your words. “I… I-I think my husband kidnapped those girls…” you breathed in a whisper. The woman on the other end of the line started talking, but your focus was abruptly taken when you heard another, more familiar voice behind you.

“Something scare you, darling?” Sunghoon asks, his voice gentle and filled with worry. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuine.

You jumped, pressing further into the kitchen counter as you spun in place, the phone leaving your ear. Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his thick brows knitted together. You didn’t even hear him come back home. Despite the landline being away from your ear, you still heard the woman on the other end asking you questions, frantically asking if you were still there. You were completely frozen.

Sunghoon rose to his feet and the stove light illuminated him. You saw him differently now. No longer was he your loving husband, he was something else. Still, you hated the way your heart soared when you locked eyes on him. How your body relaxed, even in the slightest. You hated how you felt complete now that he was here and how you wanted to run into his arms.

He crossed the short distance to you, his arms coming to rest against the counter on both sides of you. You inhaled shakily now that you and Sunghoon were face to face. Without his eyes leaving yours, Sunghoon took the phone from your quivering hand and hung it back up on the wall. His arm returned to its position next to you, completely caging you within his arms.

Sunghoon leaned his forehead against yours. “I thought I told you that you had nothing to be afraid of, not when I’m here.” His voice was still gentle—soft—and it was lowered as he moved one of his arms to take one of your shaky hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him and wrap your arms around him simultaneously. You felt exhausted.

You voice shook, “Y-You kidnapped those girls, didn’t you? Turned them into… into…” Sunghoon drew back to look at you, his head falling to the side as his brows pushed together. His confused look made you start to question if you had been imagining everything—the dolls, the dollhouse, the hidden room, the experiment. “Into… what?” Sunghoon asks.

“...Into me!” you exclaimed, more tears running down your already wet cheeks as you choked out a sob. Sunghoon’s hand tightened around yours. “You killed them… and who knows how many others! Am I next? Are you going to kill me too?”

Sunghoon let go of your hand so he could cup your face with both of his hands, his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes to get rid of the fallen tears. “They aren’t dead!” he says. “And I swear to you that I’ll never hurt you, my love. You know that. Think of them as… reborn.”

You started to tremble in his arms and tried to shift away from him, but Sunghoon wouldn’t let you go anywhere. “Is that what you’re going to do to me? Was all of this—” you gestured around the room at all the dolls of you sitting pretty on the various shelves around the kitchen “—just practice for the real thing?” you spat out. You tried to move again, but Sunghoon’s hands dropped from your face to your upper arms to keep you in place.

“No!” Sunghoon started, his voice coated in disbelief that you would even ask him that as he shook his head. “No… can’t you see? This—” he used a finger to motion around the kitchen at the dolls “—is a reflection of how much I love you. My devotion to you. You, above anything else, above everything else. A peek inside my mind and how the only thing in there is you.”

“A-And that experiment of yours—the missing girls? Behind the wall?” you asked.

“That… is my dedication to you—m-my oath.” Sunghoon was completely desperate. He pleaded with you, his eyes wide and begging you to believe his words. His eyes were watery, like if you didn’t believe him he might cry as well, and he looked at you over the rim of his wire-framed glasses that slipped down his nose bridge.

You didn’t know what to believe. Didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to go upstairs with Sunghoon and lay in your bed and forget about everything that you’ve witnessed as he held you close to his chest. It was all too much, and your resolve was starting to crack and shatter. You wanted to smooth down your wrinkled dress and fix your messy hair, but Sunghoon didn’t let you move a single inch in fear that you would run from him. You couldn’t tell which one of you was more terrified.

His hands slid down from your upper arms and down to your hands, grasping them so tight that it started to hurt. “Come… Come with me…” he trailed, gulping thickly. You stared at him with wide, frightful eyes, suddenly unwilling to move, but Sunghoon desperately pleaded with you. He looked like he was seconds from getting down onto his knees. “Please,” he begged, pulling you into him, as his voice cracked. “You know I’d never do anything ever to hurt you.”

Sunghoon took a step back, hoping that you would follow after him, and you did. You let him guide you down the hallway all the way to the bookshelf and into the room behind it, his grip on your hands never once loosening. He led you in front of the uncanny image of you that he created. “I know how it looks,” Sunghoon says, his voice hushed. “But there’s no pain, no sorrow, nothing.”

It didn’t try to reach out to you like it did earlier and all the dolls that once surrounded it were gone. It didn’t hum that out-of-tune, terrifying version of the melody Sunghoon hummed when he worked either. It just hung limply from its silk restraints. “It just is,” Sunghoon continued. “And when it’s fully done, and completely polished, it’ll be flawless.” He delicately took your chin and guided your head to the side so you looked at him. Your body finally stopped fighting against itself and you relaxed in his grasp. “Like you are.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, hesitantly pausing to look at you again before bringing his lips to meet yours. He pulled you into him, his body wrapping around yours, and you timidly invited him in.

His lips felt so good against yours, and you knew that once you parted for air you’ll miss the feeling of them forever until he kissed you again. It felt right—it felt like home. The home where the two of you were always together and he held you like he was holding you now—like he was afraid that if he let go he would lose you. That if he didn’t hold you like a delicate porcelain cup you would chip and crack and shatter. And you would.

When Sunghoon’s lips moved against yours like they did in this moment, everything fell into place. All your worries slid off your back and for a brief minute, it was just the two of you in the whole wide world. Nothing existed but him, and his body enveloped in yours, and his touch that made you burn. And the flames danced so beautifully for him, didn’t they?

Just when you were about to pull away to quell the heaviness in your lungs, you felt a sudden sharp pain in your neck. You hissed, breaking away from Sunghoon’s lips just barely. Sunghoon chased your lips, holding the back of your head and pulling you closer against his body as he kissed you harder.

You whimpered against his lips, your nails digging into his arms as you tried to free yourself from his vice-like grip. It was no use, Sunghoon was never going to let you go. You felt your body grow heavy in his arms and he had to hold you up. Your vision began to spot black and fray around the edges, and your ears rang terribly. Just before you passed out completely, and over the ringing of your ears, you heard Sunghoon’s muffled voice as he kissed your neck where the pain stemmed.

“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, I truly do.”

You fade in and out of consciousness as time passes around you. Sometimes you see blurred glimpses of Sunghoon, sometimes it's just an array of colors until you black out again.

You aren’t sure how long it’s been when your eyes finally do open and you remain conscious for good. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you examine how you're laying on the couch in your living room. Your entire body aches and it feels stiff. Your head is pounding and you almost close your eyes again to ease the pain you feel. You notice how you’re in different clothes and there’s a blanket over top of you. Too late do you notice the figure in your peripheral, and your eyes shift to look at them.

Sunghoon hovers over you, his expression a chaotic mix of hopeful, relief, and worry as he stares down at you. He’s wearing different clothes too, and his hair is a complete mess, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his glasses almost slide completely off his face. “Are you here, my love?” Sunghoon asks quietly. His voice sounds slightly hoarse.

You give him a confused look, pushing the blanket off of you and crying out from the pain you feel as you try and sit up. Sunghoon rushes to your aid, tossing the blanket to the side without a single thought, and helps ease you to your feet. Your gaze drops to your legs as he helps you stand and you notice how weird they look—shiny. There’s slight indented lines at your knees, too. You look at your arms and they’re the same.

You look doll-like.

Once you’re steadily on your feet, Sunghoon moves a step back to take you all in. You notice how done up you are and when you carefully raise a stiff and sore arm to your hair you feel how it’s styled. Your gaze lands on Sunghoon’s face, his eyes meeting yours.

His eyes are shining—completely full of love and pride. You’ve only seen him look like this when he first came to you with one of the dolls he made that looked the most like you, and when the two of you are in bed and his fingers are gently caressing your skin as he admires you. But, it was even more intense than in those scenarios. Confusion clouds you and you wait for Sunghoon to say something, and he does. One singular word.

“Perfect.”

[ kipo’s note . . . ] would it be wrong to say how i absolutely #needthat #desperately… like hehe yes i’ll be your perfect doll for you forever and ever and ever (๑´ω`๑)

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @fancypeacepersona @deobitifull @tinycatharsis @strawberryshoujosundae

© jjunbug - all rights reserved. do not repost on any social media or sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[jehan-d-art]

I mean those are some serious bedroom eyes while nearly getting stabbed... it's even more wild if one has watched this scene and knows he actually grabs onto the knife handle to direct it at his own heart...

... and eventually their mutual distrust turns into mutual devotion, causing both of them to want to burn down the entire world for what they have left (which, for both of them, includes the other as part of their most beloved people). where have I seen this before...

oh, yeah, right. there's a reason why I named one of my stories 'between distrust and devotion' because I just mean, come on: enemies to lovers is already an incredible trope but to have it be about people who make each other better but also worse is so much more fun (to me at least, if it's done right). and now to my actual point of me rambling like that: jwds = praise kink (I mean, a certain someone clearly liked being called pretty) gahan = choking kink (there is just so much choking going on in this series, one could mean Ga On was actually trying to get Yo Han to put his hands around his throat by any means possible)

Matching your freak is beautiful and all but what you really need is a boy who's infatuated with your freak. Down bad for your freak. Deeply intrigued by your freak. Eager to see more of your freak. Supportive of your freak. Gets bricked up witnessing your freak, even.

[lvrgurlblobbu]

beneath the moonlight

"are you cold? come here."

zayne x fem!reader

⤿ part of snow angel series : )

⤿ cw: MDNI, pre-marriage timeline, fluff, smut, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, reader in on birth control, reader & zayne's first time having sex

⤿ word count: 4.6k

⤿ synopsis: you and zayne have been dating for a while now, as you spent most of your day at the amusement park, you sure will be spending the rest of the night tangled in his sheets.

ao3.

The sound of your footsteps echoed as you made your way inside Zayne’s house. His house was warm and inviting, a contrast to the cool evening air outside. The faint scent of vanilla lingered in the air, likely from the candles he always kept around. You glanced back at him as he set the bag of plushies down on the couch, his smile soft yet triumphant as if reliving every mini-game he dominated to win them for you.

“Go ahead and take a seat,” Zayne said, his voice low but filled with affection. “I’ll grab us something to drink.”

You nodded and made your way to the couch, your fingers grazing over the bag of plushies. Each one brought back a specific memory from earlier: the laughing fits on the bumper cars, the way you insisted him on riding the carousel with you because you’d never be too old for it, and his focused determination when trying to win the biggest plush at the ring toss.

As he returned, his sleeves are already rolled up and he’s holding two glasses of your favorite drink, he handed one to you before sitting down beside you. The space between you felt insignificant as his shoulder brushed against yours.

“Think they’ll fit on your shelf?” he teased, nodding toward the bag. You chuckled, taking a sip. “I might need to start a second shelf at this rate. You’re spoiling me.”

“And I’ll keep spoiling you,” he replied, leaning back, his gaze locking onto yours. “Seeing you happy makes it all worth it.”

“See? You’re the reason why my whole apartment is going to turn into a plushie stockroom.” You joked and he chuckled, you placed the glass on the coffee table before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Can I cook?” You asked him and you felt him press a soft kiss on your head, “Of course love, why not?” He responded, “What do you want to cook? I will help you prepare the ingredients and of course with the cooking.” 

“Hmm, I’ve been craving for pasta.” You said before lifting your head to face him, “Do you have any ingredients?” 

“I have some marinara sauce at the pantry, as well as the pastas, you can choose whether you would like spaghetti ones or penne.” He said as he gently brushed your hair before tucking the strand of hair behind your ear.

“If that’s so, I’ll get started then?” You said as you smiled at him, “Alright love, let’s go?” He said as he stood up and offered his hand, you smiled at him before placing your hand above his. Your fingers interlocked as you both made your way to the kitchen to prepare your dinner.

***

The penne pasta is already cooked and you set them aside, you’re currently stirring the pot of marinara sauce you made. Zayne left for a while a few minutes ago, since there was a sudden call from work. 

As you stirred the sauce, you gracefully hum a song to yourself and didn’t even notice Zayne leaning at the door frame as he watched you cooking while wearing an apron, hair tied up, and the sleeves of your shirt rolled up. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling upon seeing you, then he couldn’t take it anymore and he decided to close the distance between you two.

You froze momentarily, the spoon in your hand pausing mid-stir as Zayne’s familiar warmth pressed against your back. His arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Did I scare you?” he murmured, his deep voice laced with amusement, his breath tickling your ear. You let out a small laugh, your heartbeat slowly settling. “A little. You could’ve warned me, you know.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” he teased, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder. His eyes drifted to the pot of sauce you’d been stirring. “Smells amazing. What’s the secret ingredient?”

“You mean besides my amazing culinary skills?” you quipped, turning your head slightly to glance at him. He chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Of course. That’s a given.”

You rolled your eyes playfully before responding, “It’s a touch of honey. Balances the acidity.” Zayne hummed in approval, his hold on you not loosening in the slightest. “How’d I get so lucky? My girlfriend who cooks, hums, and looks this cute doing it?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you tried to focus on the task at hand, but with him so close, his warmth and words made it almost impossible.

“You’re distracting me,” you muttered, though there was no real annoyance in your tone. 

“And you’re making it really hard not to kiss you right now,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against your temple.

For a moment, time seemed to pause, the sauce forgotten as you melted into the quiet intimacy of the moment, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding you in his presence. You tried to ignore how his lips are pressed on your neck, the rise and fall of his chest, his heavy breathing and how his grip on your waist tightened. 

You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself as the atmosphere shifted. His closeness was intoxicating, his every movement sending a shiver down your spine. The soft press of his lips against your neck wasn’t helping, and you could feel your resolve slipping.

“Zayne,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hmm?” he hummed, his warm breath fanning against your skin. His hold on your waist tightened ever so slightly, and you felt him smile against your neck.“The sauce,” you managed, though your voice wavered. “It’s going to burn.”

He chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “The sauce can wait,” he murmured, his tone teasing yet laced with something deeper. “You’re far more important.” Then the next thing you heard is the sound of the stove being turned off and when you faced him, his lips immediately crashed to yours. 

His lips were warm, urgent, and impossibly soft as they claimed yours, and for a moment, the world around you disappeared, leaving only the heat of his kiss and the way his hands slid up to cradle your face, holding you as though you were the most fragile and precious thing in the world.

Your fingers instinctively clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, his familiar scent wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. His kiss was filled with passion yet somehow gentle, as if he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t stand it any longer.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and both of you were breathing heavily. His dark eyes searched yours, his gaze intense yet tender. You smiled at him before encircling your arms around his neck and you kissed him once more. 

Then suddenly he lifted you up as if you weigh nothing and placed you on top of the kitchen counter, his arm propped onto the kitchen counter for support while the other hooked at your waist. You rested your palms on both sides of his cheeks as you responded to his kisses.

His kisses suddenly went to your jaw and down to your neck. You tilted your head to give him further access, the feeling of his lips feels hot against your skin which is why you couldn’t help yourself. “Z-Zayne..” You whimpered as you felt him nipped at your neck and your hand found his hair and gave it a gentle tug.

However, that tug somehow signaled Zayne. He immediately stopped and he felt like he was doused with cold water as he stared at your half-lidded eyes. “Zayne? What’s wrong?” You asked as he gently shook his head before resting it on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up with the moment and I–“ He inhaled deeply as he wrapped his arms around you. Zayne’s voice was soft, almost pained, as he whispered against your shoulder, “I didn’t mean to rush things. I just..”

You felt his arms tighten around you, his embrace grounding yet filled with a vulnerability he rarely showed. His heart beat against yours, its steady rhythm betraying the storm of emotions he was trying to rein in.

“Zayne,” you said gently, reaching up to rest your hand on his arm. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not upset.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes searching yours for reassurance. “I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice firm but laced with tenderness. “You’re too important to me for that.”

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek in a soothing gesture. “You didn’t. I promise. I trust you, Zayne.” You said as you leaned your forehead against his, before leaning down to kiss him once again. It was slow and passionate, as if you’re letting him know about what you want to happen. 

When you pulled away, he looked straight into your eyes. “Are you sure about this?” He asked softly, “Yes, I am.” you responded as you nodded at him. He hesitated for a moment but when he looked into your eyes, it’s as if gravity is pulling him back to you.

His lips met yours once again, this time it was intense and full of lust. You felt his tongue at your lips, clearly asking for permission in which you quickly allowed. His tongue entered your mouth and you couldn’t help but moan and you felt his lips curled up into a smile. 

“Lets kiss move kiss to kiss my kiss room kiss” You hummed in between his kisses as you encircled your arms around his neck as he lifted you up the counter, and then you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist as he made his way to his bedroom.

When the two of you stepped inside, his strides toward the bed were long and purposeful. He gently placed you down, breaking the kiss as both of your chests heaved from the breathless passion of the moment. His eyes roamed over your face, illuminated by the faint glow of the dim lights—your hair splayed across his bed, your half-lidded eyes, and your swollen lips.

Your cheeks flush under his intense gaze, his eyes roaming over you as if trying to memorize every detail. The air between you feels thick with unspoken words and palpable tension. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice low and sincere. His admission sends a shiver down your spine as his hand trails down to rest against your cheek. His thumb gently grazes your lips, his touch soft yet electrifying. Your breath hitches, and your heart pounds in your chest as his eyes lock onto yours, filled with something deeper than desire.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We can stop anytime if you ever feel uncomfortable.” He asked you once again with such gentleness at his voice as he caressed your cheek. “Yes, I want to do this with you, Zayne.” 

He nodded and smiled softly, “Okay, just let me know if you ever feel uncomfortable okay?” You nodded at him before his lips met yours once again, this time it was slow and tender. As if he’s savoring this intimate moment with you. Then his hands began to trace at your curves, and is now resting at your waist. 

“Z-Zayne..” His lips traveled down your neck and he sucked on it, and you’re definitely sure that it will leave a mark but you’d probably worry about that tomorrow. Right now, all of you want is to cherish this moment with your boyfriend. 

He placed hot wet kisses onto your collarbone before he gently unbuttoned your shirt. You suddenly felt a wave of nervousness and tension wash over you as he finished unbuttoning, leaving you on your bra. Your breathing hitched, and your hands instinctively gripped the fabric beneath you, unsure of what to do next. 

Zayne immediately noticed and he looked at you, “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked as he noticed how you breathing got erratic and how you clutched on his sheets. “I-I’m just nervous.” 

He gently took your hands in his, bringing them to rest on his chest. “Feel that?” he murmured, his heartbeat steady beneath your palms. “I’m right here with you. You don’t have to be scared.”

His reassurance was tender, and the warmth of his touch began to melt away some of your anxiety. You nodded at him and he gave you a soft smile, “Undress me as well.” he said as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. 

With shaky hands, you began to unbutton his shirt. He noticed your trembling fingers and he immediately place his hands above yours as he mumbled I’m right here. You continued to unbutton his shirt while his gaze remained on your face. Once you’re finished, it revealed his toned chest and there were a few scars on his stomach.

He brought your hand on his bare chest where you can feel his heartbeat. The rhythmic thump beneath your palm grounded you, his warmth and presence slowly easing out your nerves. You couldn’t help but smile at the warm and comforting feeling of his heartbeat against your palm.

“There, that’s my girl.” He whispered as he brought your hands to his lips and he gave it a gentle kiss. “Just relax and allow me to make love to you.” 

Then he quickly discarded his shirt and tossed it somewhere in the room. You also did the same, then you took his hand and guided it at the hook of your bra. He unclasped it and he pulled down the straps and tossed it as well.

His breath hitched at the sight of you, “You’re so perfect.” He lowered his head before he took one nipple to his mouth while his other hand is fondling with your left breast. You arched your back at the sensation. 

“Z-Zayne..Mhm..” You moaned as you felt him lightly bit your nipple, you tugged on his hair which elicited a groan from him which sent vibrations to your breast. He let go of your right nipple with a pop sound and he latched onto the other. 

As he busied his mouth on your breast, his hand wandered down your body, he reached your skirt and with his skillful hands, he unbuttoned it and pulled the zipper. Then, he grabbed it and pulled it down your legs, the sudden action caused you to yelp. 

He met your gaze as he let go of your nipple, he placed a gentle kiss on your lips before he looked at your breast wherein both nipples are swollen, thanks to him. You giggled at him, “What?” he chuckled. “Nothing.” you answered before kissing him in the lips once again. 

He trailed kisses from your neck down your stomach, his fingers are now hooked at the waistband of your panties. He looked at you once again, asking for your consent and you nodded at him. He used his thumb to lightly press it against your clothed pussy. The sudden pressure caused you to moan.

“Damn you’re soaked.” He cursed as he slid your underwear aside to reveal your glistening pussy due to your arousal. “Fuck.” he mumbled before placing a gentle kiss on it. Then a ripping sound was heard and you immediately used your elbow to prop yourself up, “Zayne!” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He chuckled before pressing a kiss onto your clit. The sudden sensation made you fall back to the bed once again. 

“Mhmm..Zayne…” you moaned as you felt his tongue licked up your slit. He continued to lap on your pussy, followed by his fingers who’s gently rubbing your clit. “Z-Zayne..” 

You gasped as you felt his fingers at your entrance. You arched your back as you felt him insert two of his fingers and pumped it in and out of your pussy as he continued to eat you out. “Gonna prep you so it wouldn’t hurt that much.” he mumbled and you really couldn’t take much of what he’s saying since you’re already lost in the pleasure that’s building up your core. 

He curled his fingers inside which made you moan a bit louder. “Do you feel good?” he asked you, “Y-yes.. Gods, yes.” you panted as you felt him fasten his pace. “Good, because that’s my plan for tonight. To make you feel good.” 

As he continued the relentless pace of his fingers inside you and the continuous lapping of his mouth against your pussy. You felt your orgasm approaching and you began to tremble.

“Z-Zayne…’m gonna come..” you mumbled as you continued to shake. “Let go for me my love..” he answered and after a few more pumps, you released your orgasm. 

You’re breathing heavily as he removed his fingers inside, you looked down at him and saw how he placed his fingers soaked with your juices inside his mouth. 

Then, he began to unbuckle his pants. You gulped when his hard length sprung free, you’re kinda nervous whether it will fit or not. He then positioned himself between your legs and he leaned down to rest your forehead against his, “Ready?” he asked and you gave him a nod a silent yes. 

With your answer, he slowly inserted himself inside. Due to his size, you couldn’t help but to wince at the pain and stinging sensation. “Love, hey, look at me.” He cupped both sides of your cheeks so that you could meet his gaze, “It’s alright, I’ll let you adjust for a bit okay. We’ll stay like this for a while, hm?” he whispered as he caressed your cheeks.

After a few moments, he felt the tension of your body disappeared and it’s now fully relaxed. “I’m okay now.” you said as you looked at him, “Okay, I love you.” he whispered as he placed a kiss onto your forehead before fully inserting himself inside of you.

“Mhmm…Zayne.” You moaned when you felt his cock fully inserted in your pussy. “Oh fuck.” He cursed as he nuzzled his face at the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around him when he began to move, slowly at first. 

“Zayne...” You moaned when you felt his cock fully inserted in your pussy. “Oh fuck.” He cursed as he nuzzled his face at the crook of your neck, you wrapped your arms around him when he began to move, slowly at first.

Zayne groaned softly as he felt your tight, wet heat enveloping his hard cock. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as his hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh. "Love... you feel incredible," he rasped, voice low and husky with desire.

He began to move, slowly at first, savoring the exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him. His hips rocked in a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing him deeper, stretching you wider. One hand slid up your side, cupping the soft swell of your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your nipple between them.

“Ohh..Zayne mhmm..” you moaned, "Tell me how it feels, Love," Zayne murmured against your ear, hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Describe it to me. I want to hear you say it." His hips picked up pace, thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and his grunts intertwining in a erotic symphony.

“Zayne.. ohhh mhmm..” you moaned as you clawed at his back due to the building pleasure. He hooked your left leg at his waist which made his cock go deeper inside your pussy. “That’s right love, I want to hear you say my name.” He whispered against your ear as you felt him licked your earlobe and he sucked the sensitive spot on your neck. 

Zayne could feel the heat building between your bodies, sweat beginning to bead on his brow. But he didn't let up, driven by a primal need to bring you both to the peak of ecstasy. “Z-Zayne..” You called out to him breathlessly, he immediately lifted his head to meet your gaze.

“What is it my love? Hmm, tell me what you need.” He whispered to you as he continued his thrusts inside your pussy. “K-Kiss me..” 

His lips curled into a smile as he stared at your lips, “Your wish is my command..” His lips found yours in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep, claiming your mouth as thoroughly as his cock was claiming your pussy. He swallowed your cries of pleasure, feeding off them, spurring him on. 

Zayne drank in every moan and whimper that spilled from your lips, each sound spurring him to take you with greater fervor. His hand tangled in your hair, gripping it gently as his tongue dominated your mouth, claiming you, consuming you, leaving no part of you untouched.

He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his hard length as he drove into you again and again. You were close, so close to the edge. He wanted to feel you fall, to have you shatter in his arms.

Zayne broke the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck where he bit and sucked at the sensitive skin, determined to leave his mark on you. "That's it, my love," he panted against your throat, hips never ceasing their relentless motion. "Let it go. Give yourself to me. I want to feel you."

His hand, still intertwined with yours, squeezed your fingers tightly as he felt your body begin to quake beneath him. He knew you were teetering on the brink, ready to tumble into oblivion. And he wanted to be right there with you, to catch you as you fell.

"Come on, my love," Zayne urged, voice low and intense.  You were a moaning mess as you felt your orgasm nearing, you arched your back causing your breasts to make contact with his chest. The sudden friction intensified your pleasure, you scraped your fingers on his hair and slid down to hold on his arms. 

After a few more thrusts, you came but he didn’t stop. His thrusts are now becoming sloppy and faster than his previous ones. Due to the overstimulation you could feel another orgasm building on your core. 

“I’m near my love..” He whispered against your neck, “Where do you want me?” he asked softly, his breath is hot against your skin. 

“Inside..I want to feel you, Zayne.” You whimpered. 

Zayne's heart raced at your needy whimper, desire coursing through his veins like wildfire. He rolled his hips, grinding against you, feeling your walls clench desperately around his throbbing length. "Inside, are you sure?" he asked again huskily, voice dripping with lust. "Yes, I’m on birth control." 

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his passion, all his longing into the heated meeting of mouths. At the same time, his hands gripped your thighs, lifting your leg to place in on his shoulder while the other remained hooked on his waist, his hard length nestled between your slick folds.

He began to move, hips rocking in a steady, deep rhythm. Each thrust pushed him impossibly deeper, stretching you exquisitely around his thick girth. The new angle allowed him to hit that secret spot inside you with every drive of his hips, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting up your spine.

"Fuck," Zayne groaned, forehead pressed against yours, breaths mingling in the scant space between your lips. "You feel incredible. So tight, so perfect. You were made for me." He whispered, then his breath became heavy as he feels his orgasm approaching him.

After a few more thrusts you felt his hot seed filling you up, alongside with your third orgasm. Your chests heaving as you chased your breaths, “You okay?” he asked as he cupped your face and rested his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, I’m okay..” you chuckled at him, Zayne smiled softly at your chuckle, forehead still resting gently against yours. He brushed a few damp tendrils of hair away from your face, tucking them behind your ear. "I'm glad," he murmured, hazel eyes warm and tender as they gazed into yours. "I would never forgive myself if I hurt you."

He rolled onto his side, taking you with him, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. The movement caused his softening length to slip out of you, but he made no move to leave. Instead, he simply held you, one hand stroking up and down your back in a soothing, comforting gesture.

Zayne pressed a tender kiss to your temple before nuzzling into your hair, inhaling your scent. "That was... incredible," he whispered, voice low and sated. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too..” you whispered softly. He could feel the sticky evidence of your joining cooling between your thighs, but he knew from experience that it would soon dry. For now, he just wanted to hold you, to bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

“Zayne?” you called out to him because you were suddenly reminded of something, “What about our pasta?” 

Zayne chuckled softly at your question, amused by your sudden concern for the abandoned dinner. "Don't worry about that," he reassured you, hand stroking your arm soothingly. "After we get cleaned up, just relax here alright? I’ll heat up the sauce and grab some servings for the two of us."

“Mhm, okay..” you smiled at him, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“But for now, let me just hold you for a while.” You leaned into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. The warmth of his embrace wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing and grounding. For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet bubble of comfort.

His fingers traced slow, lazy circles along your arm, lulling you further into a state of contentment.

“I could stay like this forever,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Zayne chuckled again, his breath warm against your neck. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Minutes passed in comfortable silence, neither of you in any hurry to move. Eventually, he shifted slightly, pressing another kiss to your temple before murmuring, “Alright, let’s get cleaned up.”

You giggled when he gently scooped you up in his arms as he made his way to the bathroom for the both of you to have a nice warm bath. Afterwards, he helped you get dressed in his shirt and he changed the sheets of his bed.

Then, when you’re nice and settled on his bed, he pressed a kiss on your lips, soft and lingering, as if he didn’t want to pull away. “I won’t be long,” he promised, his voice low and gentle, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek before he stood.

You watched as he walked to the door, his figure outlined by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Just before stepping out, he glanced back at you, his lips curling into that familiar, comforting smile that made your heart flutter.

“Stay cozy, alright?” he said, his voice carrying the warmth of someone who cared deeply.

You nodded, the comfort of the blankets and the faint scent of him enveloping you. As he disappeared down the hall toward the kitchen, the sound of his footsteps faded, leaving you in the quiet, peaceful haven of his room.

You smiled softly to yourself, feeling grateful for the little moments like this—the ones that made everything else fade away.

dividers by: @cafekitsune

[moonbuffoon]

How wonderful though, to have friends with predictable tastes, so that when you see a character they'd like from a mile away you go RUNNING AND SCREAMING THEIR NAME LIKE "I GOT YOU ONE! I GOT YOU ONE!!!"

It is a joyous experience that I wpuld not trade for the world because it is so much fun to go blorbo hunting for others when I watch series

having such an obvious favorite character trope is life ruining bro

[albertasunrise]

Work Wife - Seven

Masterlist

Summary: Working as a Secretary at Miller & Sons Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (sorry this took a while… as many of you know, we unfortunately lost my husband's brother before Christmas so my writing took a bit of a back burner. Lando's also cut two teeth so that's been fun. I hope this was worth the wait. Slightly shorter chapter this time but hopefully you all enjoy it ♥️)

Series Masterlist - One Two Three Four Five Six

You watched as Anna twirled her hair around her finger whilst she talked to Joel, practically eye fucking him. You wanted to walk up to her and rip the bangs from her head but, you also knew you didn't have any right to be jealous. You'd rejected Joel's advances. He had every right to move on.

But if you were being completely honest with yourself, you had hoped that he would wait for you. Hadn't he said that he would?

"The whole office can hear your murderous thoughts." Simon pulled you from your silent stewing session and you jumped a little in your chair as you looked up at him.

“They’re not murderous.” You argued, rolling your eyes at him.

“So you’re not planning her demise because she’s openly flirting with the man you love in the middle of the office?”

You choked on the sip of coffee you’d just taken and looked up at Simon with wide eyes.

“I don’t-“

“A blind man could see you’re in love with each other.”

You fumble for what to say. This is the man that you had dated for quite some time. The man you had lost your virginity to... and he's trying to talk to you about the man who'd, technically, been the reason for that relationship failing.

"Simon..."

"Don't worry, Pip." He said softly in an attempt to placate you "I was hurt for a while, sure, but to be honest... It was kind of a diskish move for me to make a move on you knowing how Joel felt."

"No... it was-"

"It was." Simon interrupted "It was but I just liked you so much and he didn't seem like he was ever going to make a move so I thought... Why not take my shot."

"I'm glad you did." You said softly and Simon smiled sweetly at you.

"I am too." He replied, "We had fun whilst it lasted... right?"

"Definitely." You replied, blushing furiously and Simon beamed at you.

"I know that you have stuff going on and I respect that you're taking time to recover from that before jumping into anything with him... but... Don't wait too long."

'Simon-"

"I just mean that life's short and we don't know when our number's up." He said, giving you a sympathetic look "Don't let your chance of happiness slip away."

You nodded and gave him a sweet smile as he winked at you and left. Leaving you to ruminate on what he had said to you. You weren't ready for anything yet but you also didn't want to lose Joel whilst trying to get yourself to the point where you are. You want to be with him and Sarah. To embrace that family you can still have, even without the baby you'd lost. You just needed to heal a little more first.

...

"You excited for the office party next week?" Asked Joel as your eyes scanned the shelves for the next food item on your shopping list.

"Sure." You reply, shrugging "I mean, it's a BBQ out in a constructors yard but..."

"We try'n make it pretty." Joel argues and you chuckle and roll your eyes at him.

"No amount of polishing can make a construction yard look pretty Joel." You snicker "But the food's always good so..."

"Exactly."

"You bringing Sarah?" You asked as you threw the item you'd been looking for into the trolley Joel's pushing.

"Of course." He grins, smiling at the little girl who's resting on your hip whilst you continue to read the list you'd put together.

"Wouldn't be the same without this little peanut." You said as you nuzzled her little cheek and grinned at the giggle this elicited.

"Mum said she's happy to take her home if I wanted to stay a little later but I expect I'll stay for some food and maybe a drink then head."

"Not wanna stay and party for a bit?" You ask and he shakes his head "Anna will be disappointed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Joel asked, two lines forming between his brows as he looked at you and awaited clarification.

"She just seems pretty smitten is all." You replied, not looking at him as you spoke "She was telling me how she was hoping to get to know you a little better."

"Why are you telling me this?" Joel growled and you finally looked at him "You know I have feelings for you so why are you throwing this BS at me?"

"I didn't mean anythin' by it I just-"

"I told you I'd wait for you. Said that when you're ready for us to be somethin' more, I'll be here." His tone made your heart twist painfully in your chest as you waited for him to continue "Now you're telling me the new girl likes me... for what reason Pip?"

"I guess I was jealous and I wanted to know how you felt-"

"You know how I feel!"

"I know... I'm sorry." You choked back, trying not to upset Sarah who was watching you both with a concerned expression on her little face "I don't know what came over me."

"You don't need to worry about who I have feelings for Pip." He said softly and your shoulders relaxed a little "I love you Pip... and I will wait for you to be ready."

"I know... Joel, I'm sorry I just... I guess I'm scared that you'll get fed up of waiting for me to be ready and I want to be ready I do it's just..."

"I know Pip... I understand." He said as he stepped a little closer to you, pinching Sarah's cheek when she smiled at him and then yours "Just don't play with my feelings like that. Please..." He trailed off and you nodded, giving him an apologetic smile and grinning when he pulled you into a side hug "Right, what have we got left on the list"

.

Later that evening you were finishing the dishes when Joel came down, baby monitor in hand and a fresh t-shirt on.

"She pee on you again?" You asked, trying not to laugh.

"Who said women can't aim?" He asked as he ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, something you hadn't noticed initially "Got me right in the face this time."

"Good girl." You chuckled and he bumped you with his hip when he came to a stop beside you.

"Careful." He warned with a smirk "We may fall out."

"Nah..." You say shaking your head "You love me too much." You freeze at your statement. Not because this was new information or anything but because you weren't sure how he would take the statement.

You looked at him gingerly, shoulders relaxing when you saw him smiling down at you sweetly.

"Yeah... I do."

You return his soft smile, looking away shyly before placing the final dried dish with the others. He helped you put everything, music floating from the radio sitting on the windowsill and you both bop and sing along to it. The whole situation was very domestic and you could not notice how right it all felt. Being here, doing such mundane chores. It all felt so natural, so right and it made you feel that little bit closer to being ready for this. All of a sudden, Joel grabs your waist and pulls you close, stealing the breath from your lungs as he starts to dance with you.

"Joel." You chuckle and he grins at you "What are you doin'?"

"Can't a man dance with a pretty lady in his kitchen?"

You don't say anything then. You just let Joel lead, swaying from side to side as the song plays softly through the speakers. You rest your head on Joel's chest and listen to the steady thump of his heart. It was a perfect moment. One you never wanted to end. But nothing lasts, and Sarah's cries coming through the baby monitor brought your moment to a premature end.

"I'll get her." You said sweetly, heading upstairs where you take her sniffling form into your arms and rock her from side to side, smiling as she falls asleep in your arms.

It makes your heart hurt a little, knowing that you would have started to feel your baby move by now. You'd imagined lazy mornings in bed with Joel, his hand on your swollen belly as he felt the little life you were growling rolling and kicking under his hand. Sarah lying with you and trying to copy her daddy. It's an image you've imagined a lot lately. One that you know isn't completely out of the question one day.

When she's back down, you rejoin Joel downstairs, smiling when he hands you a hot chocolate with all the trimmings. Just the way you like it. Sitting next to him and watching the movie he put out you think to yourself that perhaps you're not so far off being ready for this.

...

Day of the office party...

You had to give the guys credit. They had done a pretty good job this time around of doing the yard up for the party. A tipi-style tent had been erected to give people a little shade from the hot Texas sun. Joel's father's large grill had been brought over and was cooking burgers, sausages and steaks, filling the air with a rich aroma of spices and such.

You sipped at your refreshing lemonade as Joel regaled the latest tale of Sarah being her vibey self, making all the other guys laugh as you bounced the baby in question on your knee. You loved listening to him talk about her. He was such a proud dad despite it being thrust upon him out of the blue nearly 6 months ago. He had come so far in that time. Taking fatherhood by the horns and thriving.

"She's so fucking cute man." Simon gushed as he glanced at you and then at Sarah "Think you'll have more?" He asks and you glance at Joel before looking back at Sarah.

"Oh yeah." Joel chuckled "A bunch more I hope."

You looked at Joel with wide eyes, noting the apprehension in his but also noting the hopeful smile he gives you too. This man wants to have more kids... and he wants them with you. It's written all over his face. You smile back, hoping it gives him some relief.

"What about you Pip?" Pipes up Calen and you try not to wince at his question. He doesn't know... you remind yourself.

"Sure." You reply, trying to play it cool "Someday."

"I'd love to have a whole bunch." Anna states suddenly and you startle. You'd almost forgotten she was sitting with you all.

"Well Joel... Maybe Anna's ya girl." Caleb jokes and you can't hide how your stomach sinks at the insinuation. You know you shouldn't feel threatened. Joel had told you only last week that he had no feelings for Anna. That he loves you... that he will wait for you.

"He knows where I am." Anna flirts and you feel sick.

"Food's up." Shout's Joel's father and you're glad of the distraction.

Everyone gets to their feet but Joel motions for you to stay put, it's then that you notice Sarah has dosed off on you.

"One of everything?" He asked and you nodded.

"You know it!"

.

The food was delicious, as it always is. You continue to talk about work and girls the guys have been dating. The trip Mr and Mrs Miller had recently taken with Tommy. How Tommy's talking about enlisting when he leaves school. How his father thinks it'll be good for him but his mother hates the idea. The day is turning into one of the best parties you've been to since starting at the company and you're so engrossed in the conversation that you didn't notice when Anna slipped off after Joel announced he was going to the bathroom.

After a short while, Sarah starts to get fussy, so grabbing her bag you make your way to the office kitchen so you can change her and prepare a bottle for her. Bouncing the fussy Sarah in your arms, you talk softly to her and try to console her. Stopping in your tracks when you come across Anna and Joel kissing by the main entrance. Your sudden stopping makes Sarah cry harder and that's what steals Joel's attention from Anna and brings it to you, his eyes widening when he sees you standing there. Tears streaming down your face.

Sarah's distressed cries pull you from your trance and you quickly sprint past Joek and Anna, trying to get into the building but Joel's hand on your elbow stops you.

"Let go of me." You growl but Joel held firm.

"Pip please."

"I need to feed YOUR baby Joel." You spit "So let. Fucking. Go. of me." You growl and he does.

You head in and try to keep your cool as you change Sarah and prepped her bottle. You heard Joel come in but chose to ignore him. You couldn't face him right now. Not whilst you were tending to Sarah.

"Pip."

"Don't!" You warn him and he lets out a shaky sigh "You're a fucking liar Joel."

"It's not what you think!"

You don't say anything. You just leave the room and sit on the couch in the breakroom so you can feed Sarah. It felt bittersweet now, feeding his baby after he'd just torn your heart on and stomped on it but she was innocent in this.

Joel said nothing as you fed his daughter. Just stood there silently and waited for you to finish. When you were done, you burped her and pulled her into your arms. Getting up to leave, you don't look at Joel, just walk past him as you make your way out of the office. You are met by a concerned Lucia Miller. She takes the baby without a word and walks back to the party and you stand there, your shoulders heaving as you await Joel's inevitable explanation.

"Pip." He pleads and you let out a shaky breath "Please look at me."

You finally turn and face him, your eyes greeted by a sobbing Joel Miller and for a moment your heart aches to comfort him... But then you remember why you're in this position.

"It's not what you think."

"Not what I think?" You scoff "So I didn't just witness you kissing Anna?"

"Well... yes but she kissed me." He urges "I swear to you! She caught me by surprise and then I heard Sarah cryin' and saw you and I..." He trailed off and your impatience grew.

"And you what Joel?"

"I froze."

"Fuck you." You growl and he sobs.

"Pip, please... I love you." He choked "I swear to you that I didn't kiss her."

"Yeah well... Your promises mean shit all to me, Miller." You growl, turning your back on him "You're a fucking liar and I want nothing to do with you."

"Pip." Joel sobs as he watches you leave, his heart shattering into a million tiny pieces "I love you." He whispers as you disappear out of view.

Everything was fucked now.

Next

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[soulofapatrick]

“You can watch me” - Ridoc Gamlyn x female reader 

Summary: You and Ridoc end up sleeping together almost immediately 

Warnings: Smut; fluff; fingering; 

Words: 3.4K

Notes: I couldn’t wait much longer to post this - we need more Ridoc stories so this might become a small series ehhehehe

This isn’t proofread so sorry for any mistakes or repetitions or anythinggggg 

Part One Here ⇒ I'm Not Watching You

Y/N’s POV 

Ridoc’s lips don’t leave mine as we stumble further into the room, his hands warm and steady against my hips, like he’s guiding me but not controlling me. Every kiss is teasing, deliberate, like he’s savouring the moment—or more accurately, savouring the way I’m starting to melt under his touch. His lips leave mine briefly, only to trail down to the sensitive spot just beneath my jaw, where he pauses to press slow, heated kisses that make my breath hitch.

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice low and rich with amusement. “I like it.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I manage to say, though my words are breathless, lacking any real conviction.

Ridoc huffs a soft laugh, his lips curling into a smirk that I can feel against my neck. “You keep saying that, but I’m not convinced.”

I don’t have the chance to reply because his hands slide up my sides, his thumbs brushing beneath the hem of my shirt, just barely grazing my skin. The simple touch sends a wave of heat through me, and I gasp quietly, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as I pull him closer, refusing to give him the satisfaction of stepping back.

He tilts his head, catching my mouth with his again, and this time the kiss is slower, deeper. His tongue brushes against mine, coaxing rather than demanding, and I swear he’s trying to dismantle me piece by piece. One of his hands moves to the small of my back, steady and insistent, while the other tangles in my hair, tilting my head just enough to deepen the angle of the kiss.

“You’re trouble,” I mutter against his lips, the words coming out more like a sigh than anything else.

“So are you,” he counters smoothly, his grin audible in his tone. “But isn’t that what makes this fun?”

The teasing glint in his voice is enough to snap me out of whatever spell he’s weaving. I tug at his shirt, pulling him closer as a challenge, refusing to let him have the upper hand. Ridoc seems to enjoy it, his laughter rumbling low and warm in his chest as he lets me take control for a moment, his lips meeting mine with equal fervour.

It’s only when the back of my knees hit something solid that I realise he’s been steering me the whole time. I barely have time to register what’s happening before I lose my balance, the unexpected movement sending me tumbling backward onto the edge of the bed with a soft, surprised sound.

Ridoc comes with me, catching himself with one hand braced against the mattress beside my head. The other stays firmly on my waist, his grip steady as he looks down at me with a mixture of amusement and something darker, something that makes my heart skip a beat.

“Careful,” he says, his voice softer now, though his grin hasn’t lost its mischievous edge. “I’d hate for you to hurt yourself.”

“Funny,” I retort, though my voice wavers just enough to betray me. “I thought you were the dangerous one.”

He smirks, his free hand coming up to brush a strand of hair away from my face. “Oh, I am. But don’t worry—I’ll catch you every time.”

There’s something in his tone, something warm and unguarded, that makes my chest tighten. Before I can think too hard about it, he leans down, capturing my lips in another kiss that’s slower this time, more deliberate. His weight presses against me, his body warm and solid, and the sensation sends a thrill racing through me.

His lips leave mine to trail down my neck again, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to draw a quiet gasp from me. His hand slides beneath my shirt, his fingers tracing lazy circles along my waist, the touch light and teasing.

“You’re going to drive me crazy,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own racing heartbeat.

Ridoc lifts his head, his grin softening into something almost tender as his thumb brushes against my skin. “Good,” he murmurs, his tone playful but laced with sincerity. “Then we’re even.”

He kisses me again, his hand slipping from my waist to thread through my hair, and I lose myself in the feeling of him—his warmth, his weight, the way he’s somehow both maddeningly teasing and completely grounding all at once. I don’t know where this is going or what it means, but for now, I don’t care.

Ridoc’s lips trace a burning path down my neck, his kisses deliberate and lingering, as though he’s memorising every inch of me with his mouth. Each touch sends a rush of fire through my veins, making it harder to think, harder to breathe. His hands are everywhere—sliding over my waist, my back, cradling me like I’m something precious and fragile, yet anchoring me so firmly I feel like I might shatter if he lets go.

I arch against him instinctively, a soft gasp slipping free when his teeth scrape lightly against the sensitive skin below my ear. It’s too much and not enough all at once, my thoughts spinning wildly as he presses closer, his body fitting perfectly against mine.

“Ridoc,” I whisper, his name tumbling from my lips without permission, and he hums in response, the sound low and dangerous and enough to make my knees go weak.

His lips skim my collarbone, his fingers slipping under the hem of my shirt, the heat of his touch burning into my skin. I feel the shift in him—the slight hesitation as his fingers trail upward, his movements careful but insistent.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin, his voice rough with restraint. He lifts his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine, searching, waiting.

I hesitate, my hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt to steady myself as the weight of the moment crashes over me. My heart pounds in my chest, a relentless rhythm of want and worry. I want this. I want him. But a tiny voice whispers in the back of my mind, reminding me of the risks, the stakes, the things I can’t take back once they’re given.

“Wait,” I say, my voice breaking as I press a trembling hand against his chest. He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he pulls back just enough to look at me fully.

“What is it?” he asks, his tone softer now, threaded with concern.

I bite my lip, glancing away as I try to gather my thoughts. My chest tightens with a mix of vulnerability and fear, but I force myself to meet his gaze. “I don’t want this to be… just a one-time thing,” I admit, the words spilling out in a rush before I lose my nerve. “If we’re doing this, it has to mean something. I need to know that it’s not just casual for you.”

Ridoc stares at me for a moment, his expression shifting into something I don’t entirely recognise. There’s no cocky grin, no teasing glint in his eye—just an earnestness so raw and unguarded it makes my breath catch. Slowly, he lifts a hand to my face, his thumb brushing gently over my cheek in a touch so tender it nearly undoes me.

“You think I’d be here, like this, if it didn’t mean something?” he asks, his voice low but steady. His gaze never wavers, his intensity pinning me in place. “You think I’d touch you, kiss you, look at you the way I do if there was anyone else? There’s no one but you. There never has been.”

His words hit me like a thunderclap, unraveling every ounce of doubt I’ve been holding onto. My chest tightens, my throat burning as I stare at him, trying to find any trace of insincerity and coming up empty. He’s serious. Ridoc Gamlyn, the man who could charm his way out of any situation, who always seems to have a smirk on his face and a joke on his lips, is looking at me like I’m the only thing that’s ever mattered.

I swallow hard, my hands trembling as I slide them up to his shoulders, pulling him closer. “Okay,” I whisper, my voice breaking on the word. “Okay.”

Ridoc doesn’t move for a heartbeat, his gaze lingering on mine as though he’s giving me one last chance to change my mind. Then his lips crash against mine, harder, hungrier, every ounce of restraint slipping away. His hands grip my waist, pulling me flush against him as his kiss deepens, his teeth catching my bottom lip in a way that makes my breath hitch.

My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging lightly as heat coils low in my stomach, a heady mix of anticipation and need flooding through me. When his hands find the hem of my shirt again, this time pulling it up just slightly, I don’t stop him.

Instead, I let myself fall into him completely, losing myself in the heat of his touch and the fire in his kiss

Ridoc’s kiss deepens, his lips and tongue working in perfect rhythm with an intensity that sets me alight. His hands are everywhere—careful but commanding, sliding over my sides, my back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The world narrows down to just him: the press of his body, the rasp of his breath, the faintest tremble in his touch that tells me he’s holding back more than I can fathom.

When his fingers find the hem of my shirt, he pauses again, his forehead resting against mine. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he murmurs, his voice low, husky, and utterly sincere.

I shake my head, my own breath shaky as I grip the fabric of his shirt tighter in my fists. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That’s all he needs. Slowly, deliberately, he tugs at the hem of my shirt, his hands brushing against my skin as he lifts it higher. Every movement is unhurried, reverent, like he’s savouring each second. When the fabric finally clears my head, Ridoc tosses it to the side, his gaze dropping to my newly exposed skin.

The way he looks at me sends a shiver through my entire body. It’s not just lust—it’s awe, reverence, like I’m something he never thought he’d deserve but refuses to let go of now that I’m here. His hands trace over my shoulders, down my arms, his thumbs brushing the curve of my collarbones with a gentleness that feels at odds with the fire in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, the words so soft they’re almost a breath, but they hit me with the force of a confession. His lips follow the path of his hands, pressing soft, lingering kisses to my shoulders, my throat, the curve of my neck.

Ridoc takes his time, his touch maddeningly slow as he works his way lower. His fingers trail down my sides, slipping beneath the waistband of my flight trousers just enough to tease but not enough to make a move yet. He looks up at me, his eyes locking onto mine as he leans in to press a kiss just below my collarbone, his lips warm and soft against my skin.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, his voice thick with restraint.

“It’s not,” I manage, my voice trembling. “It’s perfect.”

His smirk makes a brief appearance, softer now, tinged with affection. “Good. Because I’m not rushing this. Not with you.”

His hands find the button of my flight trousers, and as he unfastens it, his lips continue their slow exploration, kissing and nipping at every inch of skin he reveals. He presses his lips to the dip of my stomach, the edge of his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there just enough to make my breath hitch.

When my flight trousers join my shirt on the floor, Ridoc leans back slightly, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that should make me feel self-conscious but somehow doesn’t. There’s no judgment in his expression, only raw, unfiltered desire mixed with something deeper, something that makes my chest tighten.

“You’re incredible,” he says, his voice low and rough, and the way he says it—like he truly believes it—makes my heart stumble in my chest.

He reaches for me again, his hands warm and steady as they slide up my thighs, over my hips, his touch reverent and grounding. Every brush of his fingers, every press of his lips feels deliberate, like he’s worshiping every inch of me, committing every detail to memory.

When his lips find mine again, it’s different this time—slower, deeper, filled with an intensity that makes my head spin. His hands cup my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones as he kisses me like he’s trying to tell me everything he can’t put into words.

“Ridoc,” I whisper against his lips, my voice trembling with emotion I can’t quite name.

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his forehead resting against mine. “You okay?”

I nod, swallowing hard as I lift a hand to his face, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “I just… I’ve never—no one’s ever made me feel like this before.”

Ridoc’s expression softens, his eyes searching mine as he lifts a hand to cover mine where it rests against his cheek. “Good,” he says, his voice low but firm. “Because I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

His words settle over me like a promise, and when his lips find mine again, I let myself fall into him completely, trusting him to catch me. And he does.

Ridoc’s hands move with a slow, deliberate intent, his fingers brushing over my shoulders before gliding down my arms. His touch feels electric, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When his hands come to rest at the clasp of my bra, he pauses, his eyes flicking up to meet mine, searching for any sign of hesitation.

My breath catches, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. I nod, giving him the silent permission he seems to need. His lips curve into the faintest smile—soft, reverent—before his fingers deftly undo the clasp.

The moment the fabric slips away, I feel the cool air against my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating off him. Ridoc’s gaze lowers, his expression shifting into something almost worshipful. His hands return, gliding up my sides and stopping just beneath my ribs, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin there.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, the words barely audible but carrying the weight of absolute sincerity.

His hands move higher, slow and careful, and when his palms finally cup me, I feel the world tilt on its axis. His touch is firm but tender, his thumbs grazing over me in a way that sends a shiver racing down my spine. My breath stutters, and a soft sound escapes me before I can stop it, a mix of surprise and overwhelming sensation.

Ridoc’s lips find my throat, pressing kisses there as his hands explore, mapping me with a care that makes my chest ache. His touch is maddening, teasing, like he’s determined to take his time and savour every reaction he pulls from me.

“Ridoc,” I whisper, his name a breathless plea.

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark and filled with something that makes my stomach twist in the best way. “Tell me what you need,” he says, his voice rough but steady, grounding me even as I feel like I’m unraveling.

“I just—” I bite my lip, heat rushing to my face as I struggle to find the words. But I don’t need to.

Ridoc seems to understand, his hands sliding lower, tracing a path down my stomach. Every movement feels deliberate, each touch igniting something deep within me. When his fingers finally slip between us, brushing against the apex of my thighs, I can’t hold back the gasp that tears from my lips.

The sensation is overwhelming, a sharp spike of pleasure that spreads through me like wildfire. His touch is gentle but assured, his fingers moving with a confidence that leaves me breathless. My hips arch instinctively, seeking more, and Ridoc responds with a low, throaty sound that makes my pulse race.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear. “Every sound, every movement... I could get drunk on you.”

His words, combined with the skilful way his fingers explore, send me spiralling further into a haze of pleasure. The world falls away until there’s nothing but Ridoc—his touch, his voice, the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing that matters.

Ridoc’s fingers move with unrelenting precision, each stroke coaxing a crescendo of sensation that builds higher and higher, until I feel like I might shatter from it. My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I clutch at his shoulders, grounding myself in the solid warmth of him as he watches me, his gaze heavy with intensity and something softer, more profound.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, his voice rough but gentle, sending a shiver down my spine. His thumb brushes a sensitive spot, and I cry out, my body arching into him as the tension inside me finally snaps.

Pleasure crashes over me in waves, and I cling to him as the world blurs and narrows to nothing but the overwhelming sensation and the sound of his voice murmuring quiet encouragements against my skin. His lips press soft kisses along my temple, my cheek, grounding me as I come back down, trembling and breathless.

When my pulse steadies and I open my eyes, Ridoc is watching me with a small, self-satisfied grin tugging at his lips. The tenderness in his gaze makes my chest ache. Without thinking, I reach for him, tugging at his shirt, my fingers desperate to find skin.

But Ridoc gently catches my hands, stilling them with a quiet chuckle. “Whoa there,” he teases, though his voice is husky, betraying his own restraint.

“Ridoc,” I protest, pulling at his hands, but he shakes his head, leaning down to capture my lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, his breath mingling with my own. “Tonight’s about you,” he whispers, his voice low and steady. “I wanted to make sure you felt how much you mean to me. We can do more another day, but for now…” He trails off, brushing a strand of hair from my face with a tenderness that sends warmth flooding through me.

I start to argue, but he silences me with another kiss—soft and insistent, stealing the words from my lips and leaving me dizzy. “Let’s get into bed,” he murmurs when he pulls back, his smile gentle but firm. “I just want to hold you tonight.”

There’s no room for argument in his tone, but the sincerity in his eyes melts any resistance I might have had. With a soft sigh, I let him guide me toward the bed. He pulls the covers back and helps me settle in, his movements careful and unhurried, like he’s savouring every moment.

When he slips in beside me, his arms wrap around me, pulling me close against his chest. His warmth surrounds me, his heartbeat steady and grounding beneath my ear.

“Just you and me,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “That’s all I need.”

And as I lie there, cocooned in his embrace, I realise it’s all I need, too.

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

@caramelmacchiato07 @fanficscuziranout @daisydark @mariahoedt @marrass @honethatty12 @ladymacbabe

[snugcuddler]

thank you @borzoi-gf for the tag eeee

10 things for 10(ish) people you’d like to get to know better

last song: six pack by wine lips, don't really know them but I'm trying to find new albums/artists I like and this was in my recommended songs by spotify - one of my fave songs recently is divisive by we have band

favorite color: green! but really been loving a nice deep yellow ochre recently

last book: reading through the game of thrones series again, currently on the third book so last one was a clash of kings

last film: watched half of the john wick 2 movie last night, very dudeTM movie

last tv show: i don't really watch TV, more into youtube and catching up with people I'm subscribed to - really love allwoolfibers!

sweet/savory/spicy: savory for sure but having a little piece of dark chocolate every night with tea has been a simple pleasure of mine for a long time

relationship status: very much in love

last thing i googled: overshot weaving

current obsession: ravelry - updating my stash and looking at patterns and people's projects I just think it's so smartly designed and intuitive and it's very inspiring to see people's knit projects :) also have been getting back into bullet journaling/using my notebook like a commonplace book and catch all for all of my ideas instead of being super restrictive to my writing/sketching. creativity is so fun :D

looking forward to: seconding spring! growing my hair out longer and going to europe with my love, this weekend and more time spent at my desk making things

tagging (if you'd like to participate!): @bbspinach @earthwound @velvetrooftops @lovergirlmp3 @angustifolia @amnesiaguy

10 things for 10(ish) people you'd like to know better

thanks @se7entyrell for the tag!

last song: spooky by dusty springfield (bc i'm on my 60s vibes shit — again)

favourite colour: any shade of blue!

last book: divine rivals, by rebeca ross (loved it! it's been a minute since i've read a book front to cover so fast)

last film: woman of the hour

last tv show: the consultant

sweet/savoury/spicy: savoury for food, bitter for drinks!

relationship status: single. forever.

last thing i googled: xo kitty season 2 date

current obsession: i've been watching any romcom that is recommended to me, old or new, good or trash.

looking forward to: start my new job, write a few more chapters for death defying acts and the tortured firefighters department, go out with my friends to celebrate

tagging: @munsonsreputation @live-love-be-unique

[yaniluvs]

𝒾𝒾𝒾 ⁞ AS WE ARE “𝑎 𝑏𝘰𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝑠𝑎𝜈𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝘰𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝘰𝑛𝑙𝑦.” ── hang out. libraries. kids. food. turns out, baseball guy isn't only a baseball guy..?

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𓍯 baseballcapt!seungmin ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）9.1k── ༯ SERIES uni au, slow paced & slow burn, curiosity, fluff, strangers to friends to ???, small town, slight angst, language, skz ensemble, very long, y/n is a foreigner/has mixed ethnicity, angsty, humour. ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ a month and 5 days to the last update of this fic omg !!!!! yes it is finally here and it's very long. IM SORRY but i love this chapter sm im actually so proud of myself with this :3 hope you all like it !! <3 i love seungmin sm guys, pls tag me if you find any good seungmo fics mwah. also when i posted the last chapter, i had only crossed 300 followers. right now, as of when im posting this, i actually just passed 600 of you, oh my god. in a span of 36 days, thank you so much to every single one of you ! this really motivates me a lot :(( i am also posting the requested fics soon loves, please be patient !!! comments, likes, req/asks and reblogs are always appreciated ! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading <3

the sun hung low in the sky, its warm rays stretching lazily over the quiet baseball field. a faint breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees, carrying with it the distant hum of voices from the university festival on the other side of town.

y/n strolled across the usual field with her usual carefree stride, her satchel slung over one shoulder and a grande paper cup of peach tea in her hand. her gaze caught a familiar figure, who she may have been hoping to find.

he stood on the pitcher’s mound, his cap pulled low over his face as usual, a baseball gripped loosely in his hand. his focus was sharp, his movements practiced and fluid as he wound up and pitched the ball toward the net. the satisfying smack of the ball hitting its target echoed across the empty field.

she paused for a moment, watching him. he looked so at ease here, like the field was an extension of himself. she smiled to herself before calling out, “practicing alone again?”

seungmin turned at the sound of her voice, his expression softening slightly when he saw her. “car girl, again,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

she rolled her eyes at the nickname, though she couldn’t help but smile. “that nickname is never going away, is it?”

“not a chance,” he said, turning back to the net and throwing another pitch.

she began teasingly, walking closer to the netted boundary of the field. “so, has this time now become your usual or are you just excited to see your new friend everyday now?”

he shrugged, tossing the ball idly in one hand. “don't flatter yourself, maybe it's because i'm actually bored for once.”

“oh well, didn't hurt to try,” she laughed softly, the sound light and warm like the breeze that rustled the trees surrounding the field. she stopped a few feet away from him, crossing her arms as she watched the ball sail cleanly into the net. “your friends aren't here today?”

“nope,” he replied, brushing a bit of dirt off his palm. “they’re at some event thing on campus. didn’t feel like going.”

“why not?” she asked, genuinely curious.

he shrugged, retrieving another ball from the bucket nearby. “not my scene.”

she tilted her head, a teasing smile on her lips. “you say that about a lot of things.”

“that’s because it’s true about a lot of things,”

“so, instead of loud festivals, you decided to spend your evening throwing balls alone?”

“better than standing around pretending to have fun,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk as he pitched the ball again.

“you really do have a grumpy streak, don’t you?”

“i’m not grumpy,” he shot back, catching the ball as it rebounded off the glove.

“you keep saying that,” she said, her voice light with amusement. “but i’m not convinced.”

seungmin glanced at her, shaking his head. “you talk too much.”

“again, only because you talk too little,” she countered easily, her grin widening.

he let out a soft huff—somewhere between a sigh and a laugh—before walking over to grab the ball again. this time, instead of pitching, he sat down on the grass near her, resting his elbows on his knees.

she blinked in mild surprise but quickly recovered, sitting up straighter. “taking a break?”

“something like that,” he said, spinning the ball absently in his hands.

“so,” she began, tucking her legs beneath her and leaning forward slightly. “if you don’t like festivals or loud places, what do you like?”

he gave her a sidelong glance, as if deciding whether to answer. “quiet places. like the library.”

“oh, so you did like the library,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

he shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “i liked that it was quiet.”

“and because it had me,” she joked, “and what else? besides quiet places?”

he was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the horizon where the sun hung low, casting long shadows across the field. “baseball,” he said eventually. “obviously.”

“obviously,” she echoed with a playful smile. “what else?”

“you’re really nosy,” he said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

“i prefer ‘curious,’” she said with a shrug. “come on, there’s gotta be more to you than baseball and quiet places.”

he didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, she thought he might not answer at all. but then he said, almost reluctantly, “music.”

her eyes lit up. “really? what kind?”

“depends,” he said, turning the ball in his hands. “mostly calm stuff. acoustic, sometimes jazz.”

“same!” she said excitedly, leaning forward. “do you play anything?”

he glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “guitar. a little, a friend is helping me.”

“seriously?” she asked, her excitement growing. “that’s really cool. i tried to play piano in elementary.. but let's just say i'm not too good with two hands and multitasking.”

"well, guess it’s a good thing breathing only takes one set of lungs."

“you're mean.”

“i prefer honest.”

“what about singing?” she asked again, her voice softer now.

he raised an eyebrow. “what about it?”

“do you sing?”

he shook his head. “not really.”

“not really or not at all?”

“not at all,” he said firmly, though there was a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

“hm, interesting.” she mumbled under her breath, as he looked at her for a bit, and then stood up, dusting the dirt off his tracks and walking back to the field.

“so, what’s your plan? just… keep throwing balls at a net until sunset?”

“pretty much,” he said, glancing at her. “unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“are you admitting to wanting to be in my company?”

“no, i'm simply taking your offer from yesterday. you know, if i ever need help venturing around.”

“oh, did i say that?”

“you compared yourself to dor-”

“it's a rhetorical question!” her cheeks warmed up, at the realisation of her random 'boldness' from the previous day.

“but.. fair enough,” she shrugged, “in that case, i might have a better idea or a few.” she said, her grin widening mischievously.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but willing to entertain her suggestion. “oh yeah? let’s hear it.”

“well, it’s not much of a plan yet,” she admitted, resting her chin on her knees. “but you could hang out with your beloved library-worker-plus-her-who's-mysteriously-at-the-field-every-day-now-turned-friend, later. you know, after you’re done being all serious and athletic.”

he paused, the ball in his hand, and looked at her fully for a moment. “hang out?”

“yeah,” she said casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “you’re bored and free, i’m bored and free… why not?”

he considered her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “you’re pretty straightforward, you know that?”

she grinned, unfazed. “pretty? check. straightforward? definitely check. so yeah, what do you say?”

“i’ll think about it,” he said, turning back to the net.

“wow,” she said, pretending to be offended. “that’s the most noncommittal answer and rejection i’ve ever heard.”

he smirked slightly, not looking at her. “better than a no.”

“fine.” she said with a shrug, leaning back on her hands.

they fell into a comfortable silence after that, the rhythmic thwack of the ball hitting the net filling the air. the sun hung lower in the sky now, casting long shadows across the field and painting everything in shades of gold and orange.

eventually, the guy had straightened up, stretching his arms over his head. He glanced over at y/n, who was still sitting in the grass, absentmindedly twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she watched the sky.

“you’re still here,” he said, his tone more surprised than accusatory.

“oh you're done!” she replied, smiling up at him. “and yeah, of course, i was waiting for your answer.”

he shook his head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “you're not gonna leave unless i say no, are you?”

“glad to know you're catching up! but i know you were never gonna say no, if you had a choice too.” her face lit up instantly, her grin so bright it could’ve rivaled the setting sun. “i promise i won’t be too annoying, by the way.”

“somehow, i don’t believe that,” he said, though there was no real bite to his words.

she laughed, springing to her feet and brushing the grass off her skirt. “you’ll survive. come on, let’s go, baseball boy.”

he rolled his eyes but followed her off the field, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on his lips.

“call me a creep,” she said with a grin, glancing back at him as he tried to catch up with her. “but i did see a messy stack of crumpled music sheets under your backpack the other day. so i know you're not good at lying.”

seungmin froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. he stopped walking, turning his head slowly to look at her with a mixture of suspicion and amusement.

“you what?” he asked, voice laced with disbelief but not quite sharp.

y/n stopped a few paces ahead of him, spinning around to face him with an innocent shrug and a playful grin. “you heard me.” she leaned slightly toward him as if to emphasize her point.

he blinked at her, “you really are a creep.”

“hey!” she exclaimed, laughing as she placed a hand over her chest in mock offense. “i wasn’t snooping or anything. i just.. happened to see it while you were busy.”

“you just happened to notice crumpled music sheets under my backpack? that’s oddly specific.”

“call it observational skills,” she said matter-of-factly, tilting her head as she smiled at him again. “besides, you’re dodging the point.”

“which is?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“you’re not good at lying,” she said, her tone teasing but her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “you said you didn’t play anything? but clearly, you’ve got something going on with music.”

he stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. she could tell he was debating whether or not to admit anything. finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked off to the side while they walked slower.

“it’s not a big deal,” he muttered, his voice quieter now.

she raised an eyebrow, her grin softening into something more genuine. “clearly, it’s a big enough deal that you’re hiding it.”

“it’s just.. something i mess around with sometimes,” he said, still avoiding her gaze. “nothing serious.”

“mess around with?” she echoed, “like ..writing? playing? singing?”

“all of the above,” he admitted reluctantly, his voice barely audible.

“that's really cool, you know.”

“it’s not,” he said quickly, looking genuinely embarrassed now. “it’s just something i do when i’m bored.”

“doesn’t matter,” she said with a shake of her head. “it’s still cool. and honestly, it makes so much sense now.”

“what does?”

“why you’re so good at reading people,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “music’s all about emotions, right? you must have a knack for it.”

he blinked at her, clearly caught off guard by her logic. “…that’s a stretch.”

“is it?” she asked, tilting her head as she looked at him again. “come on, admit it. you’re secretly a genius, aren’t you?”

he rolled his eyes, but there was a faint flush on his cheeks now, barely visible in the dimming light. “you’re really weird, you know that?”

“and you’re really deflecting,” she said, grinning as she nudged his arm with her shoulder.

silence. the field was quiet, as the pair finally exited through the rusty old gates.

“i’m not hiding it or anything,” he said after a long pause. “it’s just something i don’t really talk about. that’s all.”

she nodded, her smile softening into something more understanding. “i get it. but for the record, i think it's a great hobby. you don’t have to hide it around me.”

he glanced at her then, his expression unreadable for a moment before he let out a quiet chuckle.

the walk was simple. the quiet of the small town wrapping around them like a warm blanket. the golden-orange glow of streetlights lit up the pathway in patches, casting soft shadows as the two strolled side by side. the occasional passerby—an older man walking his dog or a young couple holding hands—added a gentle hum of life to the evening, but it was mostly just the two of them.

y/n kicked at a stray pebble on the sidewalk, the sound of it skittering ahead breaking the silence. she looked over at seungmin, who was walking with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed but his face unreadable.

“you walk like you have all the time in the world.”

he raised an eyebrow at her. “and you walk like you’re about to challenge someone to a race.”

“funny you should say that,” she grinned, already picking up her pace. “because i was just thinking—”

“y/n, no,” he said immediately, his tone flat but his eyes narrowing as if he already knew where this was going.

“oh, come on!” she laughed, already a few steps ahead of him now. she spun around to face him, walking backward as she pointed toward the distant outline of the bus stop up ahead. “race you to the bus stop. loser owes the winner a snack!”

“i’m not racing you,” he said, shaking his head.

“scared you’ll lose?” she taunted, her grin widening.

he let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. “considering i'm the least athletic, y-” he mumbled to himself.

“fine,” she said, throwing her hands up dramatically. “guess i’ll just win by default, then!”

with that, she turned and took off, her laughter trailing behind her as she sprinted toward the bus stop.

seungmin stood there for a second, watching her with an incredulous look before muttering under his breath, “unbelievable.” despite himself, he started jogging after her, his strides quickly closing the gap between them.

she reached the bus stop just a second before him, her chest heaving as she laughed and turned to face him. “looks like you owe me—”

“nothing,” he interrupted, standing just a few feet away, barely out of breath. “you cheated.”

“what?” she exclaimed, her hands flying to her hips. “how did i cheat?”

“you gave yourself a head start,”

“excuses, excuses,” she said, waving him off as she leaned against the bus stop pole. “a loss is a loss, seungmin.”

before he could reply, the bus pulled up, its headlights cutting through the dim light. the doors hissed open, and y/n wasted no time, darting inside with the same energy as before. “i call the window seat!” she called over her shoulder.

seungmin followed her at a more relaxed pace, shaking his head. “you’re a child,” he muttered as he climbed the steps.

“aren't we all?”

inside, the bus was mostly empty, save for a small group of middle schoolers sitting near the front. they were chatting animatedly, their voices a mix of excitement and laughter. she had already claimed her spot by the window, her bag plopped down on her lap as she looked out at the darkening sky.

“don’t just stand there,” she said, looking up at him with a teasing smile. “sit.”

he sighed, sliding into the seat beside her. “you’re really full of energy today.”

“always am,” she replied cheerfully, leaning her head against the window as the bus started moving.

the middle schoolers noticed them then, their curious eyes flicking toward the older pair. one of the boys leaned forward, his face lighting up as he addressed the girl. “are you guys dating?”

seungmin nearly choked on his own breath, his head snapping toward the kid in disbelief.

y/n, however, paused, then shaking her head and senses back. “we’re friends.”

“really?” the boy asked, tilting his head. “you look like you’re dating.”

“we’re not,” seungmin said firmly, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.

another girl from the group leaned in, grinning. “but you’d make a cute couple!”

“i swear, all kids this age only talk about crushes and dating..” he mumbled silently.

“see?” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “even kids think we’re cute together.”

“don’t encourage them.”

she laughed again, turning back to the kids. “what about you guys? why are you out so late?”

“we had cram school,” one of them replied, his tone dramatic. “it’s the worst.”

y/n gasped in mock horror, clasping her hands together. “cram school? at your age? you poor things.”

the kids laughed, clearly enjoying her playful energy. “do you go to uni?” one of the girls asked.

“yup,” she said, nodding. “and i work part-time at the library, too. it’s fun, but uni is… a lot.”

“you work at a library?” the boy from earlier asked. “that’s so cool!”

“not as cool as you think,” she said with a wink. “but it has its moments.”

as the conversation continued, seungmin found himself watching her more than he intended to. the way her eyes lit up as she talked to the kids, the easy way she laughed and made them feel comfortable—it was… nice. she had this warmth about her, this effortless ability to make people smile.

he didn’t realize he was staring until one of the kids pointed at him. “what about you, mister? what do you do?”

“baseball,” he said simply, his gaze flicking away from her as he addressed the group.

“whoa, really? are you on a team?”

“not really an official one,” he said, his tone calm but polite. “but it's with my uni friends.”

“that’s so cool!” the kids chorused, their admiration genuine.

“looks like you’ve got some fans.”

he rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“absolutely,”

as the bus continued down the quiet streets, the group fell into a comfortable rhythm, the kids’ chatter filling the space. and though seungmin wasn’t much of a talker, he found himself joining in, answering their questions and even cracking a joke or two.

she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her smile softening as she watched him interact with the kids. for someone who claimed to be reserved, he had a way of connecting with people when he let his guard down.

by the time the bus reached their stop, the middle schoolers waved goodbye with big smiles, their energy still high.

“see you around!” one of them called as they hopped off.

“bye!” y/n had replied, waving back enthusiastically.

as the two of them stepped off the bus, the quiet of the town greeted them once more. she stretched her arms above her head, a content sigh escaping her lips. “come on,” she skipped quickly.

“so,” seungmin said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and giving her a skeptical look. “where exactly are we going? you never actually said. are you sure you’re not kidnapping me?”

“if i were kidnapping you, wouldn’t i have tied you up and thrown you in the bus trunk or something?”

he tilted his head, pretending to think. “you’ve clearly never kidnapped anyone before. that’s not how it works.”

“oh, you’re an expert now?” she shot back, her grin widening as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

“i’ve watched enough movies to know you’re doing it wrong,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching upward.

“good to know.” she gave him a mock salute before skipping a little farther down the street. “come on! i know a great street food cart around here. you’re not afraid of trying new things, are you?”

he raised an eyebrow as he followed her. “i think i’ll survive. lead the way, sunshine.”

they stopped at a small street food cart nestled on a quiet corner, the warm smell of grilled meat and savory spices filling the air. a cheerful elderly vendor greeted them with a smile, his weathered hands busy flipping skewers on the grill. the small counter was lined with colorful condiments, sauces, and steaming bowls of rice.

“ah, young love!” the vendor teased as they approached. “out for a date, y/n?”

y/n's cheeks flushed, but she recovered quickly, laughing as she leaned her elbows on the counter. “not a date. just two people enjoying good food.”

“hmm, that’s what they all say,” the man said with a wink, handing her a menu.

seungmin sighed, shaking his head. “we’re not—”

“shh,” she interrupted, whispering, nudging him with her elbow. “let the man think what he wants. who knows, we might even get a discount.”

he gave her a look but didn’t argue, instead glancing at the menu she was holding. “what’s good here?”

“everything,” she said with a grin, handing it to him. “but if i had to pick, the japchae and chicken skewers are my favorites.”

he nodded, ordering exactly what she suggested while y/n added a few other things to their order. as they waited, she leaned back against the cart, looking up at the star-dotted sky.

“you’re not from around here, are you?” seungmin asked suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

she shook her head, still gazing upward. “nope.. well not exactly. had to move here after elementary. my grandparents live here, though. i’ve been staying with them.”

“must be nice,” he said, his tone soft. “having family nearby.”

she smiled at that, turning to face him. “yeah. they’re great. super nosy, though. if they knew i was out with you right now, they’d probably be interrogating me over dinner later.”

“oh, so i’m a topic of conversation now?” he teased, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

“only because they’re obsessed with matchmaking,” she replied, rolling her eyes fondly. “they're caring, though. they just.. want me to be happy.”

he studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering on the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. “you seem happy.”

“i try to be,” she said simply, her voice quiet but steady, though there was an unfamiliar flicker in her eyes as she blinked it away. “life’s too short not to find little things to smile about, you know?”

before he could respond, the vendor handed them their food, and y/n immediately brightened, clapping her hands together. “perfect timing! let’s eat.”

they found a bench nearby, the soft glow of a lamppost casting a golden halo over their little spot. she handed him his share of the food before digging into her own, her face lighting up with every bite.

“this is so good,” she said around a mouthful of cold noodles, earning a laugh from seungmin.

“you’ve got sauce on your face,” he pointed out, gesturing to the corner of his own mouth.

“where?” she asked, swiping at her face with her sleeve.

“other side,” he said, leaning forward slightly. when she still missed it, he sighed, pulling a napkin from the bag and reaching over to wipe it off himself. “honestly, you’re worse than a kid.”

she froze for a second, her cheeks warming as his fingers brushed her skin. “thanks,” she mumbled, her voice softer than usual.

he pulled back quickly, clearing his throat as he sat up straighter. “you’re welcome.”

they ate in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the town around them—distant conversations, the hum of passing cars—filling the gaps. every now and then, seungmin would glance at her out of the corner of his eye, watching the way her face lit up as she talked about her favorite foods or how she waved enthusiastically at strangers passing by.

“you’re really… outgoing,” he said finally, his tone thoughtful.

“is that a bad thing?”

“no,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “it’s just.. different. in a good way.”

her smile softened, and she looked down at her hands. “thanks. i think?”

he shrugged, taking another bite of his food. “don’t let it go to your head.”

she laughed, the sound light and musical, and he found himself smiling despite himself. for someone so different from him, she was surprisingly easy to be around.

she leaned back on the bench, her chopsticks idly stirring the remaining japchae sauce in her container. her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she turned toward seungmin, who was quietly munching on a chicken skewer.

“so,” she began, her tone playful yet pointed. “you said you did play the guitar right?”

he paused mid-bite, his brows furrowing slightly as he glanced at her. “why does it sound like an interrogation?”

“because it is,” she replied, grinning. “i mean, you didn’t mention it until i asked you. oh and what’s the deal with the music sheets under your backpack the other day? planning to start a band or something?”

he huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “hardly. i’m just.. messing around. nothing serious.”

“messing around?” she echoed, her head tilting slightly as she scrutinized him. “come on, min. you don’t just carry music sheets around for no reason. what are you working on?”

he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze by focusing on the skewer in his hand. “i’m not working on anything. i just play a little when i have time. that’s all.”

she squinted at him, clearly unconvinced. “you’re being suspiciously vague.”

“maybe because there’s nothing more to say,” he countered, raising an eyebrow at her.

“oh, there’s definitely more to say,” she retorted, leaning closer as if trying to read his expression better. “do you write songs? or are you just playing covers? be honest—are you secretly a rockstar?”

he rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “definitely not a rockstar. and no, i’m not writing songs. i barely know enough to play properly as it is.”

“barely know enough?” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “you strike me as the type who’d quietly get really good at something and then pretend you’re just ‘okay’ at it.”

he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “i’m really not that good. i’m just learning the basics. chords, strumming patterns, that kind of stuff.”

“that’s still cool,” she said earnestly, her face softening. “everyone starts somewhere. are you teaching yourself?”

“yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “i found an old guitar in the storage room at home and thought i’d give it a try. it’s.. relaxing.”

she smiled at that, leaning back against the bench. “music is good for that. it’s like.. this little world you can escape to, you know?”

“music is.. kind of magic, don’t you think?” she said, her voice tinged with awe. “like, it’s not just sounds. it’s emotion. it’s stories. it’s—” she paused, searching for the right word, “—connection. you can listen to a song in a language you don’t even understand, and still feel it. isn’t that amazing? like, how can a few notes and some words make you feel like that?”

she tilted her head back, staring up at the sky as she continued, her voice softening but growing no less passionate. “and it’s not just the big, dramatic moments, either. it’s the little ones, like how a single chord can make your chest ache, or how a melody can take you back to a memory you thought you’d forgotten. it’s so… alive. like it has this way of pulling you in, making you feel something you didn’t even know you were missing.”

he had just been listening, watching her as she spoke, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“and it’s so personal,” she said, her voice quieter now. “everyone has their own song, you know? something that feels like it’s just for them, like it knows them in a way no one else does. that’s what i love about it. music isn’t just one thing. it’s so many things, all at once. it’s chaos and comfort and beauty and sadness. it’s… everything.”

she exhaled, a small, almost sheepish smile crossing her face as she looked at him. “sorry, i’m rambling. i just—when i think about it, i can’t help it. it’s like… music’s the closest thing we have to magic.”

he glanced at her, surprised by how sincere she sounded. it was quiet for a moment, until he spoke. “do you?”

“hm?” that had gotten her attention, though the air felt slightly thicker now.

“i mean, you said earlier that you can't multitask. despite how hard i find it to believe- what i meant to ask was if you sang.. or tried playing after that or not.”

the girl only shifted her gaze and paused for a bit, exhaling as she smiled briefly again, “i did, try to play the guitar, in middle school. but i just kinda gave up after that,” she chuckled awkwardly. “and as for singing? i just hum here and there, but nothing professional or serious.”

“the way you talk about it says otherwise.”

“how do i talk about it?”

he tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her shift slightly in her seat. then, he smiled, soft and a little disbelieving, as if he couldn’t quite figure her out.

“you talk about it like it’s your whole world,” he started, his voice quieter, almost reflective. “like, when you mentioned music, your tone changed. it’s.. different. it’s not just words with you — it’s like your entire energy shifts. you sound so.. alive. like you’re describing something that’s a part of you, something you feel in your bones.”

he paused, glancing down at his hands as if he were trying to piece the rest together. “it’s in the way you look when you talk about it, too. you get this light in your eyes, like you’re remembering something important. like you’re somewhere else entirely—like music isn’t just something you like. it’s something you need. like it’s this space where nothing else matters, you know? like it’s a place that’s just yours.”

she blinked, caught off guard by the weight of his words. he ran a hand through his hair, clearing his throat as though realizing how much he’d said. but then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he continued, his gaze locking onto hers again.

his words hung in the air, heavy and quiet, as if they were something fragile. “am i wrong?” he asked finally, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced that he could be.

“for a baseball guy you're quite the poet.”

“that's not an answer.”

“i didn't mean to answer.”

“well?”

“well what?”

“am i?”

“you're not wrong. but music is just something.. i adore. like everyone else! that's all that there is to it.” she pursed her lips, getting up with the wooden bowl that was once full of japchae, to walk to the stall again and hand it to the man with a smile. seungmin followed shortly after, feeling slightly curious but he shook it off.

“seungmin!” she called out. “come on!”

then they were on the street again. she walked slightly ahead, her steps light and playful, occasionally skipping over cracks in the sidewalk. seungmin followed at a slower, more measured pace, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“so,” she said, turning her head slightly to glance at him with a bright smile. “since we’re walking and have time, i think we should play twenty questions.”

he raised an eyebrow. “that’s a dangerous game.”

“not if you answer honestly,” she replied with a shrug, her grin widening. “come on, it’ll be fun. i’ll start. what’s your favorite color?”

he paused, thinking. “blue, i guess.”

“safe choice,” she teased. “very original.”

he rolled his eyes. “alright, my turn. why are you always so upbeat?”

“hey, that’s not a yes-or-no question!” she protested, narrowing her eyes playfully.

“neither is ‘what’s your favorite color,’” he pointed out, smirking.

she huffed, crossing her arms as she walked. “fine. i guess i’m just naturally optimistic? or maybe i just don’t see the point in being gloomy all the time. life’s too short to be grumpy.”

“are you calling me grumpy?” he asked, his tone mock-offended.

“well, you are kind of the poster child for ‘brooding baseball guy,’” she quipped, flashing him a cheeky smile.

he let out a short laugh. “i’m not brooding.”

“sure you’re not,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “alright, your turn again.”

he glanced at her, his curiosity piqued. “what made you want to work at the library?”

she tilted her head, thinking. “well, i’ve always loved books. and libraries are… peaceful, you know? there’s something magical about being surrounded by so many stories. plus, it’s a good excuse to read a lot while getting paid for it.”

“that makes sense,” he said, nodding. “what’s your favorite book, then?”

“oh, that’s impossible to answer!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. “there are too many. but if i had to pick.. maybe white nights. classic, romantic, sad. it’s got everything.”

“romantic, hm?” he teased, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

she shot him a look. “don’t make fun of me! it’s a great book.”

“i’m not making fun,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i just didn’t take you for a romantic. or someone who liked reading sad love stories.”

“well you'll be surprised,” she said. “i like reading everything. it's art. whether sad, or happy, or anything else.”

he noticed the shift in her tone and decided not to press further. instead, he changed the subject. “alright, my turn again. what’s something most people don’t know about you?”

she thought for a moment, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. “i have a terrible sense of direction. like, really bad. if i didn’t have my phone, i’d probably get lost on my way home.”

he snorted. “good to know. i’ll make sure to never follow you if we’re lost.”

“rude,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. “my turn. same question. what’s something most people don’t know about you?”

he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground. “well, most people don’t know that i’ve always wanted a pet, like a dog. a big one. like, a golden retriever or something.” he chuckled softly at the thought. “my friends say i resemble a dog. but can't put up with one. i guess it’s kind of random, but i don’t know. i’ve always imagined having a dog, like, after i’m out of school, you know? just someone to come home to, someone who’s always excited to see me.”

he paused, a small, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “but i never really had the chance to get one, with school and everything. plus, i’m always busy with baseball or music, and i feel like i’d end up neglecting it. so… it’s one of those things that kind of stayed on the back burner.”

she had been watching him intently, her gaze fixed on him for a moment longer than usual. he didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in his own thoughts.

“hmm,” she said, breaking the silence with a light laugh. “you’d be a good pup owner, i think. you seem like the type.”

he raised an eyebrow at her, the mischievous grin returning. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

she just shrugged, her lips curling into a smile. “nothing, just.. you’ve got this calm about you. i don’t know. you’d probably spoil it.”

his grin widened, but he didn’t reply right away. instead, he sat back and looked up at the sky, clearly lost in his own thoughts for a moment.

“i see it though.”

he raises an eyebrow.

“the resemblance of you, physically, and in another way, to a dog.” she spoke, her gaze tracing his features. “you might seem mysterious to a stranger, and me, sadly, but i get a feeling you're really happy and playful around people you're close with.”

“and as for physically, when you walk like this, your hair jumps and it actually looks like puppy ears. overall your face, especially with that wide smile that you try to avoid in front of me,” she laughed, “makes you seem more like a dog. playful. familiar. friendly.. and comforting.”

he stared at her, stunned into silence for a moment. her words had caught him completely off guard, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. finally, he let out a laugh—soft, genuine, and a little disbelieving.

“well, that’s… definitely not what i expected to hear today,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks. “i don’t know if i should be offended or flattered.”

“flattered,” she replied without missing a beat, a playful glint in her eyes. “dogs are great!”

“i can’t believe you just compared me to a dog. you’re really out here calling me mysterious and playful in the same sentence.”

“it’s true, though,” she insisted, crossing her arms with a smug grin. “i’m pretty good at reading people.”

“clearly,” he said, his tone teasing, though there was a warmth in his gaze as he looked at her. then, after a pause, he added, “you know, no one’s ever said anything like that about me before. it’s.. weirdly nice to hear.”

she tilted her head, her smile softening. “you’re welcome.”

he chuckled again, shaking his head. “alright, since you’re so good at reading people, what does that make you?”

her eyes lit up at the challenge, but she hesitated for a moment, her expression growing thoughtful. “hmm.. i guess you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself,” she said with a sly smile, leaving him to wonder as she walked further and quicker, the conversation still lingering between them.

they walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly. the quiet of the town felt almost intimate, like they were the only two people in the world.

“where are we going?” he finally asked, watching as she spun around to face him briefly, walking backward with an impish grin.

“you’ll see,” she replied, her voice sing-song. “it’s a surprise.”

“i don’t like surprises,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to his words.

“well, you’ll like this one,” she countered, skipping ahead. “trust me.”

the library loomed ahead, its lights dimmed, the glass doors reflecting the moonlight. seungmin frowned. “wait. isn’t the library closed?”

“of course, it is,” she said casually, fishing a key out of her pocket. “but i work here, remember?”

“that doesn’t sound very legal, miss librarian.”

she laughed softly, “relax, mr. rule follower. felix closed up about half an hour ago, and i have permission to be here after hours. perks of the job.”

“okay,” she said, breaking the silence. “last question before we get there. what’s your happiest memory?”

he looked at her, caught off guard by the question. “happiest memory? that’s a tough one.”

“well, think about it,” she urged, her voice soft but insistent. “it doesn’t have to be big. just something that made you really happy.”

he thought for a moment, his gaze distant. “probably my first baseball game as a kid. my dad and grandpa took me. i remember the crowd, the excitement, the smell of popcorn. it was perfect.”

she smiled warmly. “that sounds amazing. thanks for sharing.”

he glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “what about you? what’s your happiest memory?”

she paused, her steps slowing. “probably… baking cookies with my mom when i was little. she’d let me lick the spoon, and we’d make such a mess, but it was always so much fun.”

her voice had taken on a wistful tone, and he found himself studying her face, the way her eyes softened with the memory.

“you’re really close to your mom, huh?” he asked gently.

“yeah,” she said softly, her smile bittersweet, as she didn't say more.

before he could say anything else, she stopped abruptly and turned to him with a grin. “we’re here.”

he looked up, realizing they had arrived at the library. the sight of it felt almost surreal in the quiet of the night.

“come on,” she said, pulling out her key and unlocking the door. “i’ve got something to show you.”

he followed her inside, the familiar scent of books and polished wood enveloping them. the quiet was even deeper now, the kind of silence that felt sacred. she flipped on a small desk lamp near the entrance, its warm glow casting long shadows across the shelves.

“you said you write and like literature, right? so what made you start writing in the first place?” seungmin asks her.

she paused mid-step as they walked through the library aisle, the soft glow of her phone flashlight illuminating the dust particles that floated lazily in the air. she turned her head to glance at seungmin, her expression thoughtful, as if the question had unlocked a memory she hadn’t revisited in a while.

“wow,” she said, breaking into a small smile, “that’s a deep question. you’re really pulling out the big guns tonight.”

seungmin leaned casually against the nearest bookshelf, crossing his arms with a faint smirk. “what can i say? i’m curious. you seem like the type who’d have a good story behind it.”

“flattery will get you nowhere,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. but then her expression softened as she considered his question more seriously. “i guess… it all started when i was little. mum loved stories. she’d always read to me before bed—fairy tales, myths, even poems sometimes. and she’d make up her own stories too, ones that no one else could tell like she did.”

seungmin nodded, his gaze steady on her as she spoke. he didn’t interrupt, sensing there was more to this than just bedtime stories.

“she had this way of making the ordinary feel magical,” she continued, her voice quieter now, as if she were speaking more to herself than to him. “when i was about seven, i remember her telling me that everyone has a story worth sharing. that stuck with me. writing became my way of… i don’t know, capturing moments, feelings, the things i was afraid i’d forget.”

there was a brief silence, the kind that felt heavy but not uncomfortable. seungmin tilted his head slightly, his voice softer than usual. “and you still feel that way. that everyone has a story.”

she turned to him fully, her lips curving into a small, sincere smile. “yeah, i do. even if someone thinks their life is boring or unimportant, there’s always something unique about how they see the world. i think that’s worth writing down.”

his expression shifted slightly, his usual neutral demeanor replaced with something warmer, more introspective. “that’s… a nice way to look at it.”

she chuckled lightly, breaking the intensity of the moment. “you sound surprised.”

“i’m not,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “it just makes sense. it sounds like you.”

she blinked, taken aback for a second, before a faint flush crept up her cheeks. “well, thanks, i guess. so, mr. musician slash baseball guy, your turn. what made you pick up the guitar?” she said, still walking around the dark library, slowly, as he followed behind.

seungmin shifted his weight, suddenly looking a little sheepish. “honestly? i think it started because i wanted to impress someone.”

she raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “oh? do tell.”

he let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “it’s not that exciting. back in middle school, i had this.. huge crush on someone. she played piano, and i thought maybe if i learned guitar, we could do some duet thing.”

she burst into laughter, the sound light and infectious. “that’s so cute! did it work?”

“not at all,” he admitted, his own laugh mingling with hers. “i was terrible back then. and she moved schools before i even got the courage to play in front of her.”

she grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “well, at least you stuck with it. now you’re here, a brooding baseball player with a secret musical side. very intriguing.”

“brooding again?” he teased, narrowing his eyes at her playfully.

“hey, it’s your aesthetic,” she said with a mock-serious shrug. “don’t fight it.”

they both laughed, the sound echoing softly through the quiet library. after a moment, she nudged his arm. “but seriously, i think it’s cool that you play. even if you started for, uh, questionable reasons.”

“questionable?” he repeated, pretending to be offended.

“okay, fine, romantic reasons,” she corrected, grinning. “but you must’ve kept playing for more than just that, right?”

he hesitated, looking down at the worn wooden floor beneath them. “yeah. after a while, it stopped being about anyone else. i started to enjoy it for what it was. there’s something calming about it, you know? like it’s just you and the music.”

her smile softened, her voice gentle. “i get that. music has a way of making everything else disappear, even if it’s just for a little while.”

her back and his chest collided suddenly, when she paused her footsteps to look around. their eyes met briefly, and for a moment, the space between them felt charged with an unspoken understanding. then she cleared her throat, breaking the moment with a grin. “alright, enough with the deep talk. we’re here.”

she gestured to a row of shelves, her excitement bubbling up again. seungmin watched as she reached up, pulling down a few old, dusty books and placing them on a nearby table, after turning the lights on.

“these,” she said, running her fingers over the faded covers, “belonged to my mom. she loved music almost as much as she loved literature.”

he approached the table, his curiosity evident as he looked at the books. “why are you showing me this?”

“because,” she said, her tone soft but earnest, “you’re still learning, right? these might help. and i don’t know, it just felt right to share them with you.”

seungmin glanced at her, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “bold of you to assume i'm gonna take something that belongs to someone who has more passion for music than i do.”

“bold of you to assume i'm letting you leave without it.”

she smiled, softly. “these books, seungmin, helped her a lot. now, it's no use to her because she's learnt all from them. so, giving this to you seems as the best option, especially when compared to letting them catch dust in these shelves.”

seungmin picked up one of the books, flipping through the yellowed pages. the notes in the margins and the slight creases on the edges gave it a sense of history. he hesitated, then glanced back at her. “you know, you make it sound like this is some kind of inheritance or something. like i’m supposed to treat this like a family heirloom.”

she chuckled lightly. “well, maybe it is, in a way. but if anyone’s going to appreciate it, i figured it’d be you.”

he tilted his head, giving her a curious look. “why me? there are probably a hundred other people who’d jump at the chance to take something like this. people who might actually deserve it.”

her gaze softened as she met his eyes. “because you care,” she said simply. “even if you try to hide it, i can see it. music means something to you. and i think that’s enough of a reason.”

he looked at her for a moment, the words sinking in. then, with a small smirk, he set the book back on the table. “you’re really good at guilt-tripping, you know that?”

“it’s not guilt-tripping!” she said, crossing her arms with a playful smile. “it’s… persuasion.”

seungmin let out a breath, shaking his head in amusement. “fine. but only if you let me return them when i’m done. deal?”

“deal,” she said, her smile widening. “but i don’t think you’ll want to give them back. just saying.”

he laughed, picking up the book again and tucking it under his arm. “you really don’t let people argue with you, do you?”

“not when i know i’m right,” she quipped, earning a small shake of his head and a smile as he started for the door.

“hey,” he softly reached out, “thank you.”

she turned to him, her grin returning. “you’re welcome. but you owe me now.”

he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “what do i owe you?”

“hmmm,” she pretended to think. “how about.. a song? once you learn something new from these books, you have to play it for me.”

his lips quirked up in a small, reluctant smile. “deal.”

seungmin carried the stack of books they’d borrowed from the library, his expression as neutral as ever, but there was an unmistakable warmth to his presence. she walked beside him, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, her usual smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“thanks for helping me with the books,” she said, glancing sideways at him.

“no problem,” he replied casually. then, after a beat, he smirked. “i mean, it’s only fair since you’re sharing your mom’s secret stash with me.”

she chuckled, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. “it’s not really a ‘secret stash.’ it’s just stuff that mattered to her. stuff that matters to me.”

he looked at her, his gaze softer now. “that’s what makes it important.”

her steps faltered slightly, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. she recovered quickly, brushing it off with a small laugh. “look at you, mr. philosophical. spending time with me is really rubbing off on you, huh?”

“i think i deserve some credit,” he teased. “i was already pretty deep before.”

“sure,” she said with exaggerated skepticism. “if by ‘deep,’ you mean good at dodging questions about yourself.”

“i answer questions,” he defended, raising an eyebrow at her.

“uh-huh,” she shot back, grinning. “vague answers don’t count.”

their banter was interrupted by the sound of excited chatter. up ahead, near an open lot, a group of kids and a few elderly folks were gathered, their laughter mingling with the occasional crackle of fireworks. sparklers lit up the night, little bursts of light spinning in the hands of children as they ran around, their faces glowing with pure joy.

she slowed her pace, her eyes lighting up as she took in the scene. “oh, that looks so fun.”

“really?” seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow as he followed her gaze. “it’s just sparklers.”

“just sparklers?” she echoed, feigning offense. “excuse me, but sparklers are the most magical thing ever. you clearly don’t understand their charm.”

before he could respond, one of the kids noticed them and waved enthusiastically. “noona! hyung! do you want to play with us?”

her face broke into a wide grin. “of course! seungmin, come on!”

he hesitated, looking a little awkward. “i don’t think—”

“don’t think, just come,” she interrupted, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward the group. he stumbled slightly but didn’t resist, letting her drag him along.

the kids and elders greeted them warmly, handing them sparklers and showing them where to place their books and bags safely away from the fireworks. y/n immediately lit her sparkler, holding it up and twirling it around with a delighted laugh.

“see?” she said, looking over at seungmin. “magic.”

he couldn’t help but smile at her, even as he reluctantly lit his own sparkler. “if you say so.”

“come on, you have to at least try to have fun,” she teased, stepping closer to him. “look, like this.” she moved her arm in a sweeping motion, drawing a glowing pattern in the air with her sparkler. “isn’t it pretty?”

he watched her, his sparkler momentarily forgotten in his hand. the orange-golden light reflected in her eyes, her face alight with joy. she looked so completely in her element, like the world around her had faded away, and she was just… glowing.

“you’re staring,” one of the elders said suddenly, catching him off guard. his tone was teasing, and his cheeks flushed as he was caught.

“a-ah sorry. i wasn’t,” he lied, quickly focusing on his sparkler. “i was just lost.. in thought!”

“you seem to have feelings for her, don't you?” the ahjussi asked.

“we're just friends.”

“that's what they all say, kid,” the ahjussi laughed, “and that's what i said when i met her, too.” he pointed towards a lady of the same age as him. “she was, is, and always will be everything to me.”

seungmin only glanced between them, gaze softening, and the moment being interrupted by y/n's voice.

“seungmin!” she called, giggling with the kids, “look! we fused all the colors of all the sparklers together and it made a rainbow!”

seungmin could only stare at her with a smile.

“good luck, kid.”

one of the kids ran up to them, holding out a small box of colorful sparklers. “noona, hyung! these ones make a big circle when you spin them really fast!”

y/n took one eagerly, thanking the child before lighting it and spinning it around. she let out a delighted laugh as it created a bright, shimmering circle in the air. “seungmin, try it!”

he took one reluctantly, lighting it and attempting the same motion. his first try was clumsy, earning a giggle from her.

“okay, that was terrible,” she said, stepping closer. “here, let me show you.”

before he could protest, she reached out, her hand brushing against his as she guided his arm. “like this,” she said, her voice softer now. the proximity between them suddenly felt charged, the air around them growing quieter despite the noise of the sparklers and laughter.

he followed her lead, their hands moving together in a smooth arc. the sparkler drew a perfect circle in the air, its light casting a warm glow over their faces.

“there,” she said, her smile bright and triumphant. “much better.”

“thanks to you,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

their eyes met for a moment, the sparkler’s glow reflecting in both their gazes. it was one of those moments where time seemed to slow, the world around them fading into the background.

then, one of the kids yelled, “noona, hyung! look at this!” breaking the spell. she stepped back, laughing nervously as she turned to watch the child show off their new sparkler trick.

seungmin exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her. even in the chaos of sparklers and children’s laughter, she was like a beacon of light, drawing everyone—and him—toward her.

as the night wore on, they stayed with the group, laughing, playing, and creating memories under the starry sky. and though neither of them said it out loud, they both knew this evening would stay with them for a long, long time.

and maybe, just maybe, something shifted in the quiet corners of both their hearts that night.

taglists ୨୧ (mt) @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @woozarts (st) @vixensss @miyeonna

!! please let me know under this chapter post, or this one, if i forgot you in the taglist, my inactivity made me lose track, i'm really sorry !!

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Are these my hands, still? (scrubbed clean as they are?)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.6k

genre: hurt/comfort, angsty but happy ending always always always

warnings: we're back with the blood on hands analogy, this is vaguely and metaphorically about consent, love and redemption and finding yourself blah blah blah

a/n: me ?? posting a fic ?? new year miracle fr. I haven't written in,,, a long time. I'm getting back into it but guys I am kinda rlly fuckin unwell and couldn't rlly proofread so I HOPE you all enjoy it at least a bit <33

"Do you ever… miss it?" It's not often that your voice is quiet, but tonight Damian has to shut off the water in the bathroom sink and turn to you, cocking his head to the side as if to hear you better.

"Miss what, my love?" he asks gently, leaning his hip against the smooth, granite counter and watching as you stand at your own sink, scrubbing rather aggressively at the dried blood on your hands. It has been a messy patrol, to say the least, and the two of you are sort of thrumming from the adrenaline of it as you stand in the dull light of your bathroom.

"Just… well, I don't know," you mumble, and it's enough to make something that feels upsettingly close to worry begin to eat at Damian's heart. He's not used to you stumbling - not used to you sifting through words and searching so desperately. And he knows, with a fearful sort of vulnerability, that you're not used to it, either.

So he can't really stop himself from chasing after you, can't find it within himself to leave you drowning. Damian moves toward you slowly as you stare down at your hands and scrub, and you find it difficult to stop even when he covers your frantic movements with one large palm while he reaches his other hand to turn off the water. It had been hot, he realizes rather abruptly, and your skin is too warm to the touch, steam still rising from the white sink basin.

"My love," he says slowly, leaning down a bit with slouched shoulders so that he can crane his head enough to look at your downturned face. "Please talk to me. Please."

You pull your hands out from under his instead of speaking, and he turns his palm to face upward so that you can place your hands there, dried blood ground into the grooves and prints of your skin.

"How long has it been?" you ask dully. "Since our hands looked like this?" Our, you think, a sickening sort of nausea twisting within you. But his are clean these days, always always always.

"It… doesn't happen often," Damian says slowly, a frown tugging at his lips as he feels himself chasing after you - feels himself trying desperately to catch up with whatever's dragging you under right now. "But there's… never a last time for things like these. It's not up to us to know when we'll have to get our hands dirty again."

When you look up at him, then, your eyes are big and shining and open, staring with something that looks a bit less like love and a bit more like longing. It makes Damian's stomach twist, just a bit, and he reaches one arm to wrap around your waist and pull you into him while his other hand abandons yours to tangle into your hair and guide your face to his chest.

There's no space for longing here, he thinks. There is only love. There is only love here and it belongs to you. He hopes, a bit desperately, that the sound of his heart thumping in his chest is enough to say that - to remind you of that. When you press your face closer to him and tangle your bloodied hands into his shirt, he can't help the touch of relief that courses through him.

"I need you to tell me what's going on, beloved," he says softly, and in any other situation you might've laughed at him - might've poked fun at the fact that Damian Wayne is practically begging at your feet like a dog desperate for a bone. 

You just sigh at his words tonight, though, tipping back and away from him as you untangle his arms from around you. He lets you, notably, his hands ever gentle and pliable under your touch. But when you spin back to the sink, turning the hot water back on with a steaming hiss, he lets one large palm cover yours again. 

"Let me do it for you, please?" And there's something about the way he asks it, something about the love in his begging that makes you crumble and nod. 

"You don't have to ask, you know," you say quietly as he takes your hands gently into his own over the sink and begins to scrub ever so gently at your skin. "You don't need my permission."

"You don't belong to me," Damian points out softly, but a frown tugs at his lips once more because he thought you knew that. 

"No, I - I know that. I just mean…" You trail off, though, as you stare at your hands engulfed in his, the gentle motions of his fingers wiping the red from your hands over and over and over again. "I belong to myself, I know," you continue, ignoring the thick unfamiliarity of the sentiment. "But we… we've given ourselves to each other, right? You don't have to ask."

"It's not a formality," Damian muses in the quiet bathroom, the pale light reflecting down onto the two of you. "It's a promise. It's… a reminder, my love."

"Of what?"

"Of what you just said," he reminds you patiently, his eyes flickering up to you as you keep your own gaze locked on your intertwined hands. "You belong to yourself now. These hands are yours now, completely. You get to choose what to do with them. You get to choose what's done with them."

"Ah," you say flatly, Damian's words jarring in a familiar sort of way. None of it's new, but sometimes it slips away from you just a bit too much on nights like this.

Your hands, you realize sort of distantly, are clean again, and Damian's taken a towel to dry them with a gentleness that the two of you seem incapable of most days. He moves with a softness that feels learned rather than inherited and it makes something that feels dangerously like hope flutter through your chest.

You don't speak through the rest of it, content to stare down at your clean palms as he smoothes his fingers over your skin and throws the wet, used towel onto the counter. As your eyes flicker to track the movement, watching as it splats onto the solid granite with a dull, muffled flop, you find your gaze searching for the red that you're sure should be there. You find yourself looking for the blood that must've been scrubbed from your hands - that must've seeped into the white fabric and stained the towel into something unusable. 

"You cleaned them enough on your own, you know," Damian muses gently, smoothing a stray hair away from your face as he wedges himself between you and the counter to block your view from the towel. "You didn't really need me to do it for you."

"Didn't I?" you say haltingly. "Why did I - why did you do it, then?"

"Do you remember when we were children?" he asks in lieu of answering, a confused look scrunching over your face at his words. "The first time we really fought - the first time you cut me with your sword."

"Yes," you snap just a bit, and you find yourself balling your hands into fists so that you can't stare at your palms any longer.

"I remember it, too," Damian muses further, and you look up at him with furrowed brows while he smiles - something soft and sweet and loving beaming down toward you. "I remember feeling it."

"…What?"

"It's so human to bleed, isn't it? So human to be beaten." Your face morphs into bewilderment at his rambling, at the sweet reminiscence that passes through his voice. He takes your hands into his with a gentleness that wasn't supposed to belong to him, and as he smoothes his thumb over your knuckles you can't help but wonder if there was ever anything really wrong with your hands at all.

"Why are you bringing this up right now?" you ask quietly, and he flips your hands over in his hold so that your palms are facing up, staring back at you as you glare down at them.

"Because I was always human. I just needed you to remind me of it. Sometimes we need to be reminded, beloved. That's all." He says it simply, of course, like the words haven't ripped the ground from underneath you. But they have - and you both know it, you both feel it as you teeter on your feet.

"They don't look like my hands when they're clean like this," you offer hollowly, your voice swallowed by the dim light of the bathroom, shrouded by the love that pours from Damian as he lifts your hands to press kisses to each one of your fingertips. "These aren't my hands anymore."

"But they are, aren't they?" he says simply. "They're yours now more than ever before."

"What am I…" you falter. Damian waits - ever patient, ever solid under your touch. "What do I do with them?"

"Whatever you'd like."

"Should I…" you trail off, staring up at him first and then down to your palms again, his hands tangled with yours. "Should I do something good with them?"

"Do you want to?"

"Always," you answer quickly. "Yes, I - you know I do."

"Well, then," Damian shrugs - like loving you is easy, like knowing you is something he was born to do, "I suppose it's inevitable that you will."

[lillaydee]

Head Over Heels Part 6

Jackson!Joel / Reader

Special Guest Appearance by a Certain FBI Agent who may or may not look a lot like Joel.

You left the loneliness of your home and headed to Jackson with Joel and the teenage girl he was with, hoping your new life would be less lonely. You should've stayed alone.

WARNING:

Non-canon Compliant, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Loneliness, Trauma.

MEGA WARNING: Descriptions of Attempted Sexual Assault.

@copperhalfcent @joelalorian @vickie5446 @peelieblue @nandan11 @liciafonseca @senoratess @denisanoemi @lovefreylove @heartpatch

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 5

---

Ellie waited for about an hour outside your studio before giving up that day. She came back the day after and waited 30 minutes longer than the day before. She never waited longer than two hours, Joel would lose his mind if she wasn’t home by curfew. But she kept waiting, day in and day out, hoping you would even glance at her. You didn’t.

You didn’t want to be petty, but fuck, you’d discovered that you definitely were petty. PETTY. So petty you started having fun watching her stand around hoping you’d open the door and invite her in.

But then, after a week, you just felt cruel. Yet, you were not ready to give in, so you just went in and out of your studio via the library door.

You were just settling in bed one night, feeling a bit light-hearted since you didn’t see Ellie out your window that day, when you heard a scratch on the door leading to the library.

Shit, what was that? A rat? A ghost?

Took you a while to gather up the courage to go to the door. But when the scratch turned into a knock, you pursed your lips together and yanked it open, a sorry looking teenager falling onto her back as you did. She had followed you home from work one day and discovered the door from the library. The cheeky bugger had hidden herself somewhere in the library until Ike left and ambushed you.

You couldn’t help yourself and laughed out loud.

She got up, standing in the dark doorway, waiting for you to grant her access.

You jerked your head inwards, and she released a heavy sigh of relief before stepping inside. You walked across the room to switch the light on, but she begged you not to chase her away. She thought you were going to open the other door and make her leave.

You switched the light on and asked her to take a seat on your bed.

She smiled a teary smile and did as you asked.

You didn’t say anything, just stared at her, waiting for her to explain herself.

She twisted her hands together, finally taking a deep breath.

“Elena, am I the reason you moved out?”

You didn’t answer. Just cocked your head to the side a little, your eyebrows raised, your lips pursed together as if to say what do you think? She nodded, looking down at the floor.

“I’m sorry I said those things, Elena. I don’t mean them. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then why did you say them?”

She shrugged. Her lips began to tremble, “I’m so sorry Elena, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You did, Ellie.”

She nodded, sobbing a little now, and damn it, the stupid gender-related instinct in you lost and you went over and hugged her. She clung on to you, apologizing over and over again. I know, you said, kissing the top of her head, I know.

She explained herself when she had calmed down a little, telling you everything that was going on in her head, how Maria chastised her for hurting you, the words ‘I’m sorry’ repeated like a broken record. You made a mental note to bake Maria something as a thank you.

She knew you wouldn’t forgive her just like that, she said, but she’s willing to work for your forgiveness. She’ll do anything, she said. Please, Elena, she said. I’m sorry.

“That’ll do for now,” you said, “But you have to work hard to earn my forgiveness Ellie. I’m not an angel. I have feelings. Anger. Sadness. Pettiness.”

She laughed a little at your last statement, nodding, asking you if she could stay with you that night. Joel was out on night patrol. Of course, you said. The two of you spent the night talking, and you had to assure her she was not the sole reason you moved out. She finally asked you if she could ask you something. Sure, you said, anything.

“Bill and Frank, the guys you lived with, were they a couple? Like a romantic couple?”

You nodded.

“What’s that like? Loving someone of the same sex? Romantic love, I mean. Not like you love Maria or Liv or Diana.”

You shrugged, “It’s the same as loving someone of the opposite sex, I guess. It’s love, Ellie.”

“You don’t think it’s wrong? To choose to be in love with someone of the same sex?”

You laughed a bit, “Loving someone is not a choice, Ellie. You don’t choose to love someone. Not romantically, at least. That’s why you fall in love. Who you fall in love with is not something you consciously do. You fall in love because you do. Who they are, what sex they are, it doesn’t matter. You don’t choose Ellie. It just happens.”

“What if people hate you for it?”

“Then… I feel sorry for them for not having enough love in their life to not understand love is not a choice.”

She went quiet for a while.

“If I fall in love with a girl, would you hate me?”

“Why would I? If you’re in love, you’re happy, so I’ll be happy for you.”

“You don’t want to ask me who I’m talking about?”

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

She nodded. She looked contemplative for a while.

“But I can choose to love a boy instead, can’t I? It’ll be much easier.”

“Oh, honey, if who you fall in love with was a choice, I would choose different,” you told her, smoothing her hair out. “Believe me, my life would be so much better.”

She contemplated her next words very, very carefully.

“Joel?”

You didn’t answer.

“I don’t know what you think of him exactly, Elena, but I know you’re wrong. You should give him a chance. He’s just… complicated.”

“Unlike being in love, being complicated is a choice,” you told her. “Just like choosing to hurt people with your words.”

She nodded, telling you she was sorry again, and you hugged her to sleep that night.

It’ll be a process, you had told her, but you knew in your heart you had already forgiven her.      

**********

You sat in one corner of the dining hall having lunch with the girls, the kitchen feeling a bit stuffy that day. You had been cooped up in there since five this morning, after spending the entire night there with Diana, making pasta. You needed to get out. Maria had come to you with an extra sack of flour from Ricky, the guy who came by every other month to barter his findings with the townsfolk, asking if the hall could indulge him by making pasta for him to keep that day. He milled the flour himself, the last of the season’s from his small farm. His wife had passed from illness a few months prior, and she used to make them for trade.

There was enough pasta left over for two trays of it when Ricky had taken his cut, and the tomatoes Liv planted were particularly juicy that week, so you decided to make some pasta for lunch, while the rest of the kitchen staff focused on garlic bread and salad.

You sat there as Maria rubbed your back, and Liv, Diana’s, the rolling and kneading the night before taking a toll on the two of you. You saw Joel, Ellie and Tommy walk in together, taking a helping of pasta and the sides, sitting down together, chit chatting before taking a bite of the pasta.

You saw Joel’s demeanour change. He stared at the simple pasta you made and began shovelling huge forkfuls into his mouth, his eyes closing, his free hand fisted on the table, head tilted back a little, very obviously enjoying the meal.

Something inside you recognized something that day. He had that pasta before.

Sometimes, when Bill was in one of his moods during Tess and Joel’s visits, he would refuse to cook for them, choosing instead to watch them from the upstairs window of your house. He would leave telling you and Frank about this decision of his to the last minute, so the quickest thing you could normally whip up was pasta. Joel would take a few helpings of them every time you served them, and sometimes, Frank would put some into Tupperware containers for him to take home.

You always figured he was another starving man who had just walked for hours to get there. Anything was good when you were hungry and tired.

You saw him say something to Ellie, who got up and ran out. She came back after a little while, two Tupperware containers in her hands, asking one of the kitchen staff to put some in there for her to take home. Joel got up and went to get himself a second helping.  It was only then a thought entered your head.

But your thoughts got interrupted.

“Oh, he likes pasta,” you heard Vanessa coo from the table next to yours.

Your jaws clenched as she made plans to get groceries from the grocery store after lunch, pasta, basil and tomatoes among them.

You made sure he didn’t see you and slipped out to go home.

**********

You had the day off that next day. You were spending the day helping Ike catalogue a box of new books for the school – one of the patrol teams found some, miraculously in good shape. Lucy came to send him his lunch, and asked if you could help her grandson Luke at the chicken coop for a few hours. The kind lady in charge he normally worked with was out with the flu, her husband was on patrol and the other lady who helped them had a sick child, and the poor boy, having just turned 12, was rather overwhelmed, scared of picking eggs since he got pecked a few weeks ago. You didn’t need coaxing – you needed to pick up the eggs for stock and distribution at the hall anyway.

Luke was a sweet boy, hardworking, polite, a testament to his grandparents who had raised him since he was only eight. His parents had gone out on patrol one day and never came back, leaving poor Luke an orphan overnight. Thank God for Ike and Lucy.

That day, he swept the coop while you fed the chickens, deciding to leave the egg picking for last. He had asked you to help him ‘get brave’ again, he wanted to keep working there, and he was worried that India, his boss, would ‘fire’ him. Ike liked an egg or two with his breakfast, and Luke was worried he had to go without if he was ever fired. You made a mental note to tell Ike and Lucy of his worries, the poor boy unaware that the eggs were distributed to everyone daily; India only gave him extras as payment for a job well done.

So after the daily chores were done, you coaxed Luke to the back of the coop where the chickens usually lay their eggs, opening the lowered roof to the area to collect them. Just your luck, the chickens were too busy elsewhere to bother the two of you that day, and you held the basket while Luke collected the eggs, gently placing them in the four massive baskets you had with you.

The small squeak of the chicken coop gate drew your attention. Luke pulled you down to hide, as he was taught since infancy, in case of an attack. You indulged him, peeking through the chicken wires to see who it was.

Joel Miller.

“He comes here a few days a week, checking the chicken wires. He replaced them when you guys first got here,” Luke whispered. “Watch, he always does this,” he said, as Joel looked around, checking no one was looking, before taking a familiar looking Tupperware container, one you had seen him receive from and return to a certain besotted married lady, hidden under his jacket, opening it, and hastily emptying the pasta inside into the chicken feed. He then hid the Tupperware again before pulling absent mindedly at different parts of the chicken wire, his head swivelling around the way it would when he’s surveying his surroundings, leaving right away, closing the gate behind him.

“He’s been doing that for weeks,” Luke told you. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just eat them,” he said. “India said maybe the food is bad, the chickens don’t really eat them. I have to sweep them away the next day.”

You don’t know why, but as you watched the chickens peck around the discarded pasta, you felt very, very happy.

**********

Maria didn’t want a usual baby shower. It wasn’t as if the girls could go shopping anyway. She was getting hand-me-downs from the women in town, baby clothes, bottles, the likes. Instead, she wanted a nice, ladies only, fancy tea party.

You groaned out loud at the thought.

It meant you had to dress up.

Shit.

You told the girls you might just stay in the kitchen… you didn’t own a dress… you didn’t want to spoil the aesthetic of the evening. Maria was legitimately talking about wearing a fascinator. You had to look up the meaning in a dictionary. But the girls just told you they would take you ‘shopping’. You were not getting out of this, lady!

Oh, dear God.

You grew up a tomboy. With two very, very typical ‘manly men’ big brothers whose idea of fun was practicing their wrestling moves against each other on you. Your Mama gave up on telling them to stop just about the time Benny decided to climb on a cupboard and perform a diving crossbody onto you who he had instructed to lay still on the mattress. You remembered that day clearly. She was screaming, eyes scrunched shut, thinking this was it, her baby girl was gonna die cause her brothers saw her as a practice dummy. But you had the mind to roll away as he jumped off, causing him to dislocate his shoulder.

It was the day your Mama found out she didn’t have to worry about you too much, even if it meant she had to take her youngest boy to the ER. Oddly enough, neither Will nor Benny ever tried that move on you again.

On the days you had to put on your Sunday best, you never wore a dress. When Frank found a gorgeous dress at the boutique and told you to have your first picks before storing the rest away for barter, you blinked at him for a good ten minutes while Bill, who had known you all of your life, roared with laughter at the idea of you wearing a dress, to the point where he couldn’t breathe properly. Frank gave up after that, though he did suggest that you might look good in one every once in a while if you gave it a chance.

So two days before the tea party, the girls dragged you to the warehouse, announcing to the ladies working at the clothes ‘department’ they needed to pull out the perfect dress for you. Ellie was there, being on warehouse rotation that week as her after school activity. She laughed along with the ladies at your mortification when several supremely girly dresses were presented to you for the occasion. She laughed so hard, you had a lightbulb moment.

“Hey Ellie, remember when I said you need to work for my forgiveness?”

She stopped laughing, but her face morphed into one of excitement at your question. She nodded enthusiastically.   

“You wear a dress to the party, make up, hair done, the works, and we call it even.”

Ellie froze at your words.

Well, well, well… who’s mortified now?

She looked stunned for a while, before turning to her friend Cat, asking her to take her ‘shopping’. Cat looked elated, pulling the teenager’s hand into a corner where the dresses for girls their age were.

Wow. She must really want your forgiveness.

But… that meant you needed to hold up your end of the bargain too. You took a deep breath and tried on the dresses, before choosing one and going home to wash it before the big party.

The day of the party came. You went to Liv and Diana’s to get ready, and they helped you get dressed, plastered some 20-year-old make up on your face, and styled your hair a bit. You felt like a ridiculous mannequin. There was too much breeze going up your legs. The dress was flowy, but the brisk summer night’s breeze was making them cling to your figure as you walked towards Maria’s. You went to Joel and Ellie’s first, having promised her you would pick her up – you two non-girly girls would face the shame of being seen in dresses for the first time together. Ride or die.

You didn’t need to knock, Ellie came rushing to open the door as soon as she heard your footsteps on the porch. She had her bathrobe on, but her hair was all styled up in some sort of a braided look, her eyes lined with eyeliners, and her lips with some really dark lipstick.

Cat and Dina were there, getting ready with her. They whistled when the saw you, grinning like Chesire cats at your grumpy face. They looked very pretty with their dresses on.

Ellie finally took her bathrobe off, standing there awkwardly, waiting for your approval. She had on a black dress, giving the whole emo look a new definition post outbreak.

“I saw those movies – the Addam’s family. I thought I could be Wednesday Addams for the night,” she said, sulking a little as you lost your composure and started looking like the darned cat yourself. When your shoulders started shaking from trying not to laugh, she laughed too. “Am I forgiven now, or what?”

You hugged her. She hung on to you, tight. “You look really pretty, Ellie,” you told her. “You’re forgiven.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re the only person I would ever wear a dress for, just so you know. Love you Elena,” she added, hugging you again.

“Love you too, BabyGirl.”

She looked up at you, delicate tears in her eyes, smiling, before hugging you again.

The door to the basement opened, and Joel came up, carrying parts of a crib into the kitchen. He had been working on it over the last couple of weeks, Ellie told you. It was his gift to the parents to be. He laid the parts on the kitchen island and shut the door, turning around to get the parts back to assemble when he spotted Ellie.

The teenager’s cheeks turned pink as her father figure saw her in a dress for the first time. He looked impressed, but trying to hold in a laughter at the same time.

“If you laugh, I will smother you with a pillow in your sleep, old man,” she said before he could let out the laugh. He immediately straightened his face, reducing the smirk into a smile, telling her she looked nice, giving her a side hug.

When he noticed you, though, the smile disappeared.

If Joel was trying to hide the fact that he was ogling you, he failed. Miserably so. He couldn’t even close his mouth, his eyes giving you a once over from head to toe. You found yourself feeling a lot warmer than you had ever felt in your life, looking for anywhere else to look but at him, pulling the shawl you had brought around your shoulders, as if it would lessen the warmth you were feeling, wishing you could disappear.

If he laughed at you…

“Doesn’t she look nice, Joel?” Dina said, a sly smirk on her face. Cat and Ellie had to turn away to hide their smiles.

Joel looked as if he had just realized the girls were there. His hand went to the back of his neck, his eyes averted, mumbling to himself before finally saying something to you.

“You… erm… you look… *clears throat* very good. Erm… very nice,” he blubbered, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, come on Joel, she looks hot as fuck!” Ellie said.

“Language!” you and Joel chorused. Ellie rolled her eyes and went to open the door, beckoning to Cat and Dina to join her. You held the door open, waited for a flustered looking Joel to pick up the parts for the crib and went out the door before closing the door behind him, walking across the street as fast as you could, holding Maria’s door open for him to place the disassembled crib in the living room.

He chanced a glance or two at you before moving back to the door. As you made to close the door behind him, he turned and held the door from being shut.

“You really do, you know. Look hot… erm… beautiful… you look… really beautiful,” he managed to get out, eyes on the wooden dice necklace with your name carved into them around your neck.

God, Joel. Don’t hurt yourself trying to fake a compliment. You gave him a half-hearted smile and made to close the door again. He held the door still.

“I’ll, erm… I’ll see you back home?” he said, eyes shooting up to yours for a moment before looking at your bracelet, the one similar to your necklace. “Have fun tonight,” he said, before pulling the door shut.

Sheesh. Still had no clue you no longer lived there. Pfft. What a jerk.

It was only then that you noticed how quiet the house was, despite it being full of very nicely dressed, very chatty ladies. They were all staring at you, a teasing smile on their faces. Maria, Ellie, Liv and Diana looked as if Christmas just got there months early. Tommy just looked like he had a hanger stuck in his mouth.

For whatever reason, everyone looked super happy and excited to see you.

Everyone except Vanessa and Esther. Those two looked like you just killed their puppies. Vanessa huffed, put her drink down and rushed out. Esther turned away from you, muttering under her breath.

Tommy came to take the disassembled crib into the freshly painted nursery. He and Joel were going to get together the next day to assemble it, he told you as you helped him carry one piece upstairs.

“You and Joel… you’re talking again?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“You don’t have to worry, I didn’t tell him anything. Maria had to tell me, cause I suggested giving the studio to Jesse. He’s living alone in a four bedroom, you know, we could use the house should a family come in.”

You nodded. You didn’t know how to feel about him knowing you moved out, about him not telling Joel. One part of you was deeply hurt he still hadn’t noticed. But another part of you was definitely relieved. You turned to rejoin the party.

“Joel… he’s complicated,” Tommy offered. “He doesn’t hate you, Elena. Please know that. He’s just… I don’t know. But he doesn’t hate you. Just… give him time. He’ll come around.”

You gave him a smile, nodded a little and left.

What the fuck did that mean? Even when ‘complimenting’ you the man could hardly look you in the eyes. How the fuck else were you supposed to decipher that other than hatred?

You got downstairs and joined in on the merriment. You had to admit, you had a great time, although you did have to stop Ellie from taking her dress off in favour of the jeans and shirt she had managed to smuggle in. You watched as Maria opened packages with used items in them, tearfully thanking whoever they were from, despite knowing they were handed down to them in the first place. You kept thinking how different your life now was compared to a year ago, and how different this party was than it would’ve been if the world hadn’t gone to seed.

You were putting more sandwiches on the serving platter in the kitchen when Esther came in. She leaned on the counter, eyeing you as you did your task. You shot her a quick smile, asking her if she could pass the crackers that were just behind her.

As she did, she didn’t let go.

“Why is he so obsessed with you, huh?”

“Who?” you asked, puzzled.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. No single men in town has ever managed to resist me, save for Joel Miller. So what gives?”

You laughed disbelievingly. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Esther. But if he doesn’t want you, I have nothing to do with it. The man hates me,” you said, pulling the container of home made crackers from her hands, opening it and placing some on the platter.

She grabbed your hand instead, “Don’t play dumb with me, Elena. You have the man in a chokehold, and all I want to know is, how are you doing this when I’ve never seen you give him an ounce of attention.”

“Really, Esther, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, pulling your hand away from her. The bracelet snagged, and the dices with the alphabets to your name carved onto them clattered to the wooden floor.

Your heart went cold. Tears began to fill your eyes. Tess gave you that bracelet. Liv and Diana came in, asking you what was taking so long with the refill, only to panic seeing your emotional state, kneeling on the floor, searching for the dices, desperately trying to find them all to put back together. You could, right? You could find a string, or a piece of wire to string them back together?

Esther huffed out of there as soon as Diana gave her one of her dirty looks, the two sisters helping you look for the dices. But you had found them all. All seven pieces of the five dices, one of the Es and the A cloven into two from the wear and tear and impact from the fall.

You sat there, tears in your eyes, and suddenly the memory of Tess’s extremely delighted face as you put the bracelet on for the first time came flooding to your mind. This was not the first bracelet she gave you, there were three others, all simpler than this, but they had been damaged by time or wear, or in the case of the last one, an infected. She replaced them each time.

What you wouldn’t do to have her replace this one now.

**********

Joel sat on the couch facing the front door. It was almost 11, Tommy had come and gone. He was waiting for you and Ellie to come home. It was not often he had the time to sit around waiting like this. He was always either on patrol, or off fixing something, or down in the basement working on something or other; the crib, for the past two weeks.

He was nervous. Seeing you all dressed up like that fucked up with him big time. All his resolve, all his justifications for staying away from you disappeared, just like that. Tommy kept telling him someone was going to snatch you away one day, and he would regret acting the way he did. But he had always gone to his number one defence – denial. Why the hell not? He’s great at it. Been at it for 15 years. There was always a reason to extend the denial. Many, in fact. And being in an uncertain world, being on the road, among other things, were great rationalizations, he felt.

He's settled now, though. Took him a while to realize that, to feel completely safe, but he was. And he felt ready to maybe open up a bit. To you. Tell you things. Tommy knew, of course, and maybe Maria. Ellie, possibly, he didn’t really remember how much he told Ellie when he did. His mind was too clouded by the bottle of whiskey she had found for him to remember.

What he knew was, no one who knew had told you. If they did, you hadn’t cared enough to react to it. So, as he sat there, waiting for you to walk in through that door, he coaxed his thundering heart to be brave enough to ask you if you knew. He’s gonna start there. If you did, he’ll ask if you felt the same way, although to be perfectly honest, he’s probably not gonna want to know the answer. If you knew and did nothing, that was his answer right there.

But if you didn’t, he was going to tell you. Tonight. He was gonna tell you tonight.

He felt as if he was hot and cold and hot again all at the same time. He squirmed in his seat, feeling the butterflies in his stomach, feeling like he wanted to pee at all times, a cold breeze creeping up his back as he sat there listening to the goodbyes from across the street and the sounds of the ladies leaving for their respective homes.

Someone finally stepped on the porch, and Joel stood, hands nervously placed in his pockets. His stiff shoulders slumped when Ellie came in, tearing the black ribbons holding her hair in place as she shut the door behind her.

“Where’s Elena?”

“She’s helping Maria clean up.”

“She say what time she’ll be home?”

Ellie stood there, looking at him with frustration.

“Dude, she moved out like seven weeks ago. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

What? No. No you didn’t.

He ran upstairs and burst into your room, immediately clocking in the dusty floor and the open, empty closet. His body went cold. His head frozen.

He ran across the road, opening the front door without knocking, startling you and Diana who were picking up the last of the cups in the living room.

“You moved out?”

His eyes were on yours. Fixed on yours.

So, this was what it felt like to have Joel Miller look at you.

In that one minute of complete silence, you felt seen. He saw you. And you, him.

You had wanted this for 15 years. For Joel Miller to look you in the eyes and noticed you. And yet, here you stood, not knowing what to say to him, choosing instead to look at your own feet.

Your eyes found a compromise and you stared at the broken watch he wore instead of his eyes and nodded.

“Why?”

God, you were seething. Why? Was he serious? Was he really asking you why?

Why?

“Elena, what’s going on?” Maria’s voice interrupted you.

Before you could answer, a splashing sound disrupted the uncomfortable silence, and Maria looked at her feet in shock, before looking back up at you.

You, Diana and Joel stared at the puddle around her feet.

“Shit, I peed myself,” she said.

“No Maria, your water just broke. You’re in labour.”

---

Part 7

[turndon100-blog]

Regardless of the past, do not ask the future

link click live action was so much fun!

I had added this randomly into my watchlist few months back and it turned out absolute gold.

The funniest scene was probably when xiaoshi kept calling for luguang after they mistakenly entered the pre-match picture 😭 look where greed got you my boy! I was so scared he'd change the main node lmao but phew he saved the day! This boy literally went "I DEFENDED MY IDOL". masterpiece 🤣

Or when Qiao ling found their secret 😭 and xiaoshi made 5 versions of the story lol but thanks to her, these silly boys continued to work together.

Actually I loved how xiaoshi started studying about the cases beforehand so that he'd make no mistakes. Always giving 200% , a true hero and and I love him so much because what do you mean he learnt to ride the bike just for lu Guang 🥺

umm.... I'm sad they didn't mention that Lu Guang was an Artist, until the later end of the show?? I wish we had gotten more of this!

Surprising mentions of The Rabindranath Tagore? Yes please, more references to remarkable artists! The lines quoted from Stray Birds:

"what you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow"

"Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves."

"This life is the crossing of a sea, where we meet in the same narrow ship. In death we reach the shore and go to our different worlds."

I hate that they made me cry for 2 episodes straight but it's okay I survived!

Let's talk about that psychologist, brother went 0 to 100 real quick and expected us to believe his dead gf sap story 🙄 And oh that bookmarker climax!!! I thought I was ready for it but damn that bit was so good, my mouth hung open, mind blown! Anyways, you can't be redeemed be whatever your reason.

4th wall being broken? Love to see it 🤣

on a side note, all the actors were so good because everyone being controlled by xiaoshi was believable only because of that!👏🏼

The only thing that was bad in this series for me were those broken english subtitles 😒

Shall we talk about this look!!!!!! 😍

Maybe I should watch the original source too since it seems like there are 3 seasons (?) and really good arcs hmmm.

[paxaz535]

Brothers Best Friend

♡pairing ♡

paige x black!oc

chapter vi

series here

—————

The pool room was filled with music, laughter and enjoyment. Daveli was currently playing chicken fight with Makayla, Paige, Emma, Carol and Azzi. Eli was on Paige, Azzi on Carol and Makayla on Emma. “Bro, Paige do not drop me.” Eli spoke as she looked down at the blonde. Paige laughed, grabbing onto the younger girls thighs. “I won’t.. just make sure they don’t push you off me or we both going down.”

Jaida was the person to tell us to start. “Alright, yall ready?” Makayla, Eli and Azzi nod. “Go!” Emma and Makayla were the first ones to attack, Makayla had both hands out to push both Eli and Azzi. Luckily, Daveli grabbed her hand and began to push her. Azzi also pushed her, making the two girls fall in the water.

“Uh oh.. looks like Makayla and Emma are out!”Jaida commented as she laughed. “Yo! That was two against one!” Makayla spoke when she came back up from the water. “You attacked us first, kay.” Daveli said as she blew Makayla a kiss. The girl just flipped her off, her and emma swimming towards Jaida.

Azzi and Eli looked at each other, both smiling. Paige decided to move first, automatically making Daveli attack. Azzi screamed as she and the 18 year old fought. “Damn, y’all strong as fuck!” Jayden yelled as he and everyone else watched, making a few of them laugh. The twins were currently sitting across from Nai and Mia but close to where Jaida was. They couldn’t help but peep the looks they were giving Daveli.

“You see that too, right?” Connie asked as she looked at her sibling. Caniya looked over and nodded her head. “It’s kind of giving hating, right?” Connie nodded, “Right.” They knew to keep their eye on the two, already knowing about how Nai and Daveli fought a few months back.

At the end Daveli and Paige ended up winning, the two cheering in the water. “Yea yea, yall got lucky.” Carol spoke as they all gathered in one spot of the pool. Eli laughed and shook her head, “whateverrrrr, yall hatin.” Carol just let out a giggle, she thought Daveli was a very funny person and was starting to genuinely like her. “I gotta pee, i’ll be back.” Daveli spoke as she left the pool.

She checked her phone while drying off. she had a lot of notifications but decided to ignore them. It was already almost seven, time really does go by when you having fun. She dried off as much as she could and went down the hall to the bathroom.

The girl then began to remember how Paige was grabbing on her. She looked down at her thighs, cheesing in the process. She could still feel the older girl’s hands on them, making her slightly tingle. She’d do anything to have paige touch her again.. maybe even do something more.

As she began to grab toilet paper, she saw a spider on the door. She screeched, daveli hated spiders with a passion. It was so close to her too. She hurried to wipe herself and got up slowly, trying not to trigger the insect. She grabbed another piece of tissue and quickly smashed the spider. She screeched in disgust and threw it in the toilet, flushing it with her slide.

“Ugh.” She left out of the stall and quickly washed her hands, her mind going back to the blonde. She walked out the restroom with a smile on her face, making her way towards the pool again. She didn’t look up until she heard laughter. What she saw made her smile drop, completely. Paige was sitting on the edge of the pool with only her legs in, while Mia was in the water between her legs.

The two were looking at each other laughing. They looked in loved which is crazy because they only met today. She could also see David and Jaida dap each other up, making her heart drop to her ass. The scene brought her back to when she saw paige with another girl at the age of 14 and 13.

————————

13 year old Daveli was currently at the water park with her mom, david and paige. The three kids got separated due to paige running off somewhere and david spotted a few friends, leaving Eli by herself. She spotted her mom, running up to her.

“Ma, you seen paige?” She asked, angelica was lying in a lounge chair, reading a book. She looked up to see her daughter, a small apologetic smile on her face. “I’m not quite sure, honey. you can try over there.” She pointed towards the pool area of the waterpark. Daveli just nodded, thanking the woman and walking towards where she was directed.

She looked around, not spotting her.. until she did. and she was with someone else. a girl daveli never seen before. why was paige with someone else? why wasn’t she with david? the 13 year old was curious on who that girl was.

“p!” Paige turned and her face lit up, she looked back at the girl and got up, and jogged towards the younger girl. “hey, eli.” Daveli smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hey.. who’s that girl?” Daveli couldn’t help herself but she didn’t care either.

The young girl could see the blonde’s face get red, trying to hide a smile. “Oh, that’s reese. I met her a few weeks ago.” Eli just nodded, paige looked like she wanted to say more. “I… I think i might like her.” Eli heart dropped. Paige liking someone else wasn’t something Eli was fond of. it just made her upset, because she liked paige first.

“really?” eli tried to be supportive, paige just nodded. “you can’t tell anyone, though.” paige quickly looked at her, her finger pointed at the 13 year old. Daveli was hurt but nodded, looking back over at reese. “she’s pretty.” Eli spoke. and she was.

Eli could give her that, reese was gorgeous. she had wavy hair with glasses, even from where she was standing, she could tell that reese’s eyes were green. the sun made them pop. paige was looking at her too, a faint smile on her face. “she is, isn’t she?” Eli looked over at paige. ‘why can’t you look at me like that?’ She thought. Paige then looked over at Eli and sighed, “okay. I better get back, she has to leave soon. Remember, don’t tell anyone. it’s our little secret.” she spoke as she walked away, still facing daveli. Daveli did a sealed lip motion, forcing a smile.

Paige chuckled and turned around, quickly walking towards reese. Daveli let out a sad sigh, standing there a few moments before turning around. she felt her eyes watering, just thinking about paige was hurting her. she was slightly slumped, walking towards her mom. Angelica automatically noticed her daughter’s mood change, closing her book. “What’s wrong, eli?”

Daveli just shook her head and sat on the lounge chair next to her. “I don’t feel like playing anymore.” Angelica knew her daughter was in a bad mood but she didn’t want to push her either. She knew her daughter didn’t like speaking when she was upset so she’d just ask her later.

——————-

that moment happened a month ago and today Daveli found out that the two officially started dating. She saw a story paige posted. The two girls were in paige’s bathroom, hugging each other. it was captioned

‘my pretty girl💕’ and daveli just turned her phone off. She should be happy for her but she couldn’t bring herself to be happy. Not when the girl she liked was took by someone else.

She grabbed her pillow and pushed it against her face. She screamed, her emotions getting to her. She started to silently cry and it slowly turned into sobs. Why did paige have this much of effect on her? Why is she crying over her brother’s best friend?

the girl didn’t really leave her room that whole day, only to use the restroom. Angelica tried to get her to come out because at one point paige came over with reese, the two, david and a few people david invited were chilling in the backyard.

“Sweetie? come on, come say hey to everyone.” Angelica spoke softly against the door. Paige stood at the end of the steps, waiting to see if she’d come out or not. “Daveli?” Angelica called again. Eli cleared her throat, “I’m not really feeling well, apologize to everyone for me.” you could tell that the girl was crying, her voice was usually bright and happy.

Angelica’s heart hurt for the young girl, she turned around and shook her head at paige. Paige just sighed and nodded, going back to her girlfriend. Reese smiled when she saw Paige come back outside. “Hey, is she coming out?” She sweetly asked.

Paige just shook her head, “I don’t think she’s feeling well. David, has eli been in her room all day?” David looked over to his best friend. “Yea but who cares? she probably got her period or something.” Paige just rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the 15 year old boy. Reese looked at paige, “I hope she gets better.” Paige nodded, agreeing with her. The blonde looked at her girlfriend and smiled, going in for a kiss.

Before she could see their lips connect, she quickly closed her curtains. Eli watched the whole thing unfold, secretly flipping off David in the process. Seeing paige like this really took a toll on eli but she couldn’t do anything about it. and that’s killing her.

——————————

“Daveli!” The girl slightly jumped, she noticed everyone looking at her. “Girl, is you okay?” Connie asked as she and Ciniya were now by Makayla, Azzi, Carol, and Emma. Eli just nodded, a smile trying to hide the embarrassment by everyone’s eyes on her. “I had saw a spider in the bathroom..” Which was true.. but that wasn’t what made her space out.

She looked over at Paige and Mia to see the two girls looking at her. She quickly looked away and got into the pool, going by Makayla. Makayla looked at her best friend. “Eli. is it because of them?” Eli looked back over to them, paige was fully in the water and had her arm around Mia. Mia was giggling at the blonde.

“Hell yea, it is. look at them and look at her face!” Ciniya teased as she leaned against the edge of the pool. Connie quickly looked at her sister. Ciniya put her hands up in surrender then looked at Eli, “Love you, girl.” Eli just faintly smiled looking back at the two. A few of David friends left to get settled in and comfortable for when the food arrived.

“I leave for 2 seconds and she’s already under her.” Daveli spoke as she began to grow irritated at this Mia girl. Eli felt like she was throwing shade a little bit, due to the fact that, that’s Nia’s friend. Emma noticed the girl’s mug and swam to be in front of her, blocking her view. “No. We’re not doing this.” Eli looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. “Wha-“ Emma held her hand up. Eli was taken a back, “It’s literally your birthday, mija. You need to block them out, fuck them!” Eli just sighed, emma was right.

she literally just turnt into a young adult, why was she focusing on the two? “Yea girl, after this we finna eat and party some more. It’s all about you right now.” Azzi spoke as she looked at the girl. Daveli looked at her friends, a smile on her face. “Y’all right. Fuck ‘em.” Daveli then remembered she had to leave early to get everything situated.

“Yo! David, what time is it?” Eli voice could be heard throughout the pool room. “It just turned 8!” Eli nodded, looking at her friends again. “Okay, I gotta get going so this food can be ready. Does anyone wanna come with me?” She began to leave out the pool, quickly grabbing her dry towel.

“Actually, yes. my fingers are starting to prune.” Makayla spoke, she then looked over at Emma. “you coming?” Emma shook her head, “Im gonna stay with these 4. they’re funny.” Makayla just nodded, waving at everyone before she and Daveli took off.

“I’m surprised Nai ain’t try shit, you know she usually do.” Makayla spoke as they got onto the elevator. Daveli laughed, “yea she knows better. and to be honest, i really don’t feel like whopping ass today.” Makayla chuckled, shaking her head. “Her little friend tho.. i don’t know. I feel like she up to something.” Daveli looked over at her.

“Like what?” Makayla sighed, looking back. “I just got a feeling she bad news. just look out for her, just in case she does try something.” Daveli just nodded, she was still confused but she knew to study Mia more.

——————

After taking a nice, hot shower, Daveli got a call.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Daveli?”

“This is she.”

“Okay, I’m outside with the food, you might need some help.”

“Okay, we’re on our way.”

Makayla grabbed her slippers and followed Daveli out the door. She knocked on David’s room and Jayden was there to open it. “What’s up, yall?” Daveli smiled, “hey, could you come help us with the food? it’s here.” Jayden nodded his head, “oh yea, for sure.” He grabbed his slides and the three of them made it downstairs.

As they were coming down, Azzi, Carol, the twins, Emma, Jaida, Paige, Mia, and Nai were going up. “Where y’all going?” Emma asked. Daveli looked towards the door to see a lady get out of her blue car. “To get the food.” Paige quickly spoke up, “I can help-“ Eli just shook her head.

“It’s fine, p. you’re wet and probably uncomfortable. go shower.” She nodded her head towards Makayla and Jayden, beckoning them to follow her. “I call first!” Emma spoke as she quickly got into the elevator. “Well, me and Nai are gonna go in David’s room.” Mia spoke as she stood by paige. The twins just looked at each other, going back to their phones. Paige looked down at the girl and quickly looked at Jaida. Jaida just shook her head, going back to talking to emma.

uh oh

mia might be causing problems

we’ll see

taglist @melpthatsme @prettygirl-gabi @rebecca-woso @starfulani @avvwritesstufff @evry1luvzzae @hearts4morgancheli + more if wanted

[dykekarkat]

HTTYD AU?!?!?! pls tell me more.........

YIPPEE ^-^ A CHANCE TO TALK ABOUT MY MOST BELOVED AU

i watched httyd 1 recently (one of my favorite movies of all time) and as i was sitting there i went "wow...wouldn't it be cool if this was all for the game" bcus i have terminal aftg disease.

basically in this au neil is hiccup, andrew is astrid, and kevin is toothless. originally, i thought about doing a simple 'neil on the run but this time dragons exist and the foxes run berk blah blah' but then i got the idea to put nathan as stoic which...oh it's so fun. so now you have a neil who's been with his father his whole life, the foxes who live in nathan's village, and the New Kids nicky, aaron, and andrew minyard.

nathan manipulating the situation on berk to make everyone hate dragons (neil character trait moment) and go to war against them with fervor while neil refuses to fight them (bcus men have always been the monsters in his life). all of the foxes would be the equivalent of hiccup's dragon riders so they're being trained to kill dragons, with dan being the best (and andrew would b the best if he gave a shit. which he doesn't). wymack is gobber bcus i am imagining a really elaborate hate filled slightly homoerotic dynamic between him and nathan (there's backstory here but basically nathan mutinied the village and stole the chief position from wymack), and also because having him as the one training the kids (more similar to self defense than anything) and the one running the forge with neil (ostracized similar to hiccup) is just right to me.

THE FUN STUFF is getting to introduce kevin as toothless ^-^ i'm stealing the concept of dragons being able to communicate with humans from the httyd book series, idk if i want to go the dragonese route (language in the book) or a telepathy route so tbd. neil is the one to injure kevin's tail, except this time it was purely on accident. his decision to create a way for kevin to still fly is basically him wanting to take responsibility, and because kevin is really adamant about getting back to a nest for some reason....kevin is still his haughty asshole self but now he's a dragon, and in the beginning neil and him spend a lot of time circling each other before kevin will accept his help.

IN THE BACKGROUND or well not really in the background because this will probably become a switch pov story, andrew is watching everything happening with slight curiousity. i'm not changing his canon backstory much, but know at this point drake and tilda are both dead, also no drugs bcus i dont want to <3. aaron and him are still not close / fighting, but they aren't in forced proximity at the same level bcus aaron is apprenticing under abby NOT training to kill dragons like andrew. in httyd astrid starts paying attention to hiccup out of jealousy / curiosity, but here it's more like andrew does not trust neil and he Especially doesn't trust their chief nathan so he's going to get to the bottom of it (also he's crushing not that he'd admit it). now just imagine kevin and andrew meeting for the first time similar to toothless and astrid, okay you've got that in your head right? now imagine andrew being the one forced to fly very high up on a dragon as neil pleads his case about not killing his only friend (the dragon).

anyway this got long and idk if any of this makes sense and maybe no one else cares but andreil with their dragon bestie kevin...it's everything to me...

[chevxyn]

CONFLICT = CHEMISTRY!

in which, you and sae got into a lil conflict outside a football stadium & the paparazzi’s made a false statement that the two of you are dating.

an itoshi sae smau series.

mature language, written + 1 attachment, i’m sorry for grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language.

act ii, ep 019 : first date | next part

wc : 780+

2:13 pm, madrid, spain, 2019.

YOU were waiting outside of the rented house that you had contracted this past few months. Being in Spain has been beautiful, it’s better than all the things you’ve experienced and seen in NYC.

Not to mention, the feeling of excitement surge thru you as you always wanted to go on the Art Gallery but never had time. And it didn’t take long until a BMW 520i showed up outside the porch.

And Itoshi Sae, rolled down the passenger window. Looking at you, and that’s where you take the initiative to go to the seat.

“Good afternoon.” He simply said as you sat down, you looked at him and gave him a small smile, “Good afternoon to you too.”

.. Awkward Silence. Which you expected, considering the last time they met, they quite literally rolled down the hill and created a conflict.

“Well, where is this art gallery?” He asked, and you took out your phone, showing him the address for said gallery. It was not that far, just a lil at the end of Madrid.

Sae nodded, as he started his car. Now, the car ride was quiet, none of them didn’t talk. while you wanted to, Sae looked like he didn’t, so you didn’t bother.

When you got to the art gallery, Sae opened your door for you, for some reason. And he took your hand, and when you were about to protest, he whispered, “There were people staring at me.”

Right, the plan. You nodded and let him guide you inside the building which was a little far from the parking lot. Quickly, people noticed the two of you. Some football fans were shocked seeing the player, but they were not brave enough to come up to him especially when you are there.

Ignoring all of them, you looked around at the room that is made to create an illusion. Hand still attached with his, but your eyes were amazed at the art that has been created in this very room.

He was looking at you, studying your face. And when you looked at him, he raised his eyebrow. “Could you take a photo of me?” You asked and he blinked a few times before nodding. Taking your phone as you posed for some pictures.

“Thank you!” you said as you took your phone, and his hand back to yours, leading him to walk somewhere else. You could feel the people that’s taking a photo to the two of you. But you didn’t really care.

This art gallery is just too much fun. and It means the plan is working. And the two of you are just gonna release the confirmation soon.

As the day progressed, you had noticed, Sae was not like the first time you met him. He was more chill to say, but not as cold as you expected him to be. Maybe it’s for the media, you did notice that he would watch where you step as if thinking you’d fall again.

He would also take pictures for you, and would not question anything. And sometimes you can see other visitors giggling as they see you both.

When you finished with viewing every artpiece & illusions from the Art Gallery, you both decided to end the day. And when you two went outside, it was raining.

“Ah..” You exclaimed in dissatisfaction. He glanced at you before removing his jacket, giving it you. “Use it.”

“I’m gonna run to the car, just wait here.” He said and you slightly frowned, “Wait what? you should use it.”

“I don’t get sick easily,” He ensured you, “Besides, I don’t think I’d be satisfied if you catch a cold cause you didn’t bring one.” Oh.

He patted your shoulder before going into the rain, and running to where the car was parked. Moments later, the car came into your view, and you went into the passenger seat.

His hair is now down, aswell as his clothes was wet, as it caught water. You looked at it before he spoke, “It’s fine, I’m alright.” He reassured you.

The driveway back was not different than the drive here. But you were stealing glances at him alot. Not because you are interested in him yet, it’s cause you’re sorry about the water that he had to caught.

As you got back home, you looked at him and gave him the jacket back. “Uhm, thank you. For that.” You said to him, “Sorry that you had to be wet.” You chuckled to lighten up the mood but he just shrugged it out. “It’s fine, like I told you.”

“I’m gonna go back home now,” He said and went to his car, and you just gave a subtle nod. “Drive safely.” Fuck, this day was good, but the ending was rocky.

taglist (open) : @vaelils, @levihanmyotp, @kaz-0e, @jaeyuuns, @narcjsistx, @sxftiebee, @tojirin, @nensi, @banzaitaka, @whisperofae, @orphicarchive, @bubybubsters, @sellomaybe, @s4-mmy, @nomyimi, @rwbie, @chuuyalvover, @suksatoru, @x3nafix, @misscandygirl122, @imas1mpp, @literallyushiwaka

©chevxyn