#until the golden lovers pack them away for good

[gonsobomb]

Why did Mox call Perry a good kid? Sure the bcc and elite have had their differences but what if they came together to identify a shared problem within aew? What if Mox is just plan a? What if he fails to put the dragon away? What if Christian takes advantage of a broken danielson and steals the belt? In konosuke wins the three way that puts the international title in with the don callis family. Yeah don and the bucks haven’t liked each other but they both hate Kenny more. Kenny is trying to get the bucks to fight him with tanahashi in njpw. Moxley has never gotten along with Kenny either. What if Kenny returning heralds something new for aew something the bucks can’t let happen? So they get in mox’s ear they get in Christian’s they get in don’s. They get all the belts in a friendly alliance. They maintain all the power in aew. They could only do so much behind the scenes but now with this united front on screen they are unstoppable

[bonercoaster]

Hungry Eyes

“Would you like to do the honors?” You question, your own eyes lazily meeting his intense ones. 

Joel silently answers, takes the blunt out of your hands, sparks it up, and takes a long drag. Keeping the smoke in his lungs, he puts one arm at the back of your neck, gently bringing you closer to him for a kiss. As your lips touch, he releases the smoke into your mouth and you inhale before kissing him greedily, pressing your tongue into his mouth, extracting a groan from his sweet lips.

WARNINGS: smut, kinda fluff, drug use/cannabis use, hot steamy chair sex, good girl, creampie, softdom joel, fingering, pet names, breast/nipple play, thigh worship, pre or post cordyceps outbreak idc you choose, writing this drove me insane

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warm yellow sunlight pools into the room through the open window, cool soothing breeze finds its way into the room disturbing the hypnotizing swirls of smoke surrounding you and your lover. 

The room is a small, humble office. A desk faces the window, small thin white curtains being swept every which way from the gentle wind disturbing them. A large comfy couch sits on the opposite end of the room. On the desk sits your grinder, rolling tray, and packs of thin cigars which you earlier cut open, gutted, stuffed with some good bud, extra keef, and expertly rolled. 

In the chair at the front of the desk sits the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on, dressed in only his boxers. And dressed in only a flimsy black slip, you are seated atop the beautiful man, facing him; your legs straddling him as you fidget with the blunt you just rolled, running your lighter along the length of the blunt, ensuring it is properly sealed and ready to be smoked. His eyes intensely focused on you, the way you rolled, the way your tongue gently licked the seams of the blunt, the way your fingers delicately pressed the seams together and molded it to your desired shape. Just watching you roll a blunt made him painfully hard. You feel his smoldering, hungry eyes on your body as you expertly finish rolling. The bowl (pipe) you just smoked lays forgotten on the corner of your desk, you wanted more, and Joel was happy to oblige, handing you the large jar of weed without question so you could roll up.  

“Would you like to do the honors?” You question, your own eyes lazily meeting his intense ones. 

Joel silently answers, takes the blunt out of your hands, sparks it up, and takes a long drag. Keeping the smoke in his lungs, he puts one arm at the back of your neck, gently bringing you closer to him for a kiss. As your lips touch, he releases the smoke into your mouth and you inhale before kissing him greedily, pressing your tongue into his mouth, extracting a groan from his sweet lips. You break away, taking a puff of your own, shotgunning it into his mouth as well. After passing the blunt to him, you lean forward and tangle your fingers into his curls, scratching at his scalp. He sighs, releasing the smoke from his lungs and closing his eyes at the pleasure of your nails gently scratching his scalp. When he opens his eyes it nearly takes your breath away, brown eyes turned golden from the sun’s rays. Hungry eyes, needy eyes. His golden orbs trace down your body, his hands following. His large strong hands, rough with calluses from years of hard work, trail down your body, making it respond against your will by erupting in goosebumps, your nipples going hard. Those strong hands gently roam your body, starting from your upper back, down to the small of your back,  lingering on your ass barely covered by the slip, until they firmly grab and knead at your thighs. Joel loves your thighs, he loves the way they move when you move, the powerful way they squeeze around his head when he’s devouring you, the way they break out into goosebumps when he teases you. Joel’s kneading at your thighs does just that, showing him how good he makes you feel, you let out a whine and grind your heat down into him. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Joel asks in a low voice, teasing you, knowing full well what has you whining and grinding into his lap. In response, you take the blunt and place it into the ashtray so you could roughly grab at his jaw, and kiss him enthusiastically, using your nails to scratch from his scalp, down his neck, to his chest. Joel’s arms wrap around your back, pulling your body as close to his as possible, trapping your hands against his chest while he pushes his tongue into your mouth, massaging itself against your own. As you kiss him, your body moves without your consent, grinding yourself into the hard member hidden underneath his boxers, the both of you releasing the lewdest noises. Your head is swimming with his scent, the feeling of his hands, the sound of your combined moans, the feeling of his tongue mingling with your own, and the feeling of his thick cock pressed up against your needy pussy through his boxers. 

Joel breaks away first, his right hand picking up the blunt: “take a drag baby, we ain’t finished yet.” You let him bring his hands up to your lips, feeding you the blunt and allowing you to take your puff, thrusting you further into that sweet light-headed euphoria. Joel takes a drag of the half-finished blunt himself, never releasing the smoke. Eyeing your breasts, he licks a trail from your cleavage to the most sensitive parts of your neck, the pleasure causing you to shiver and shake against your will, before he places his lips against yours, breathing the smoke into you again. “You’re so good at taking everything I give you, sweetness. You’re being such a good girl.”

The comment immediately makes you whine and grind into his hard cock, pressing your forehead against the crook of his neck, exhaling the contents of your lungs into him while he takes another drag. 

“Why don’t we take this cute little thing off, babygirl?” Joel lazily mumbles into your ear while tugging at your slip. “You’re not gonna need it, sweetness. Can you take it off for me baby?” You sit up to see those big brown eyes suddenly staring into yours with such an intensity you can’t even think to refuse him. Those eyes, those intense, sweet eyes were so powerful. If he looked at you like that and told you to quack like a fucking duck, you don’t think you’d be able to refuse him. You shift your body to sit up straight on your knees while he uses his strong arms to stabilize you, moving them up and down your body to grope at your ass, your thighs, and squeeze around your waist. Stretching your midsection to get the slip off and over your head. Joel lets out a breath at the sight of you. In awe, he says in almost a whisper “god damn, sweet girl.” before he pulls you back to sit down, straddling his lap. Joel gives you the blunt to smoke on while he begins rubbing and nuzzling his face against your bare breasts, leaving cute small kisses all over them. His stubble scrapes the skin of your breasts in the most erotic way and you take a drag of your blunt as he begins slowly sucking and biting on your chest, leaving small hickeys all over your breasts. Joel waits for you to exhale before he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, gently sucking, his tongue swirling, it’s making you dizzy and takes your breath away. When Joel begins to attend to your other breast. you cry out loudly without any regard for who might you hear outside your wide open window, and you feel him smile against your chest. “Please, baby please, I, fuck I “ You breath out, while his mouth and tongue work magic on your breasts, his hands kneading your ass. 

When he finally takes a break from torturing you with his tongue his rough voice snaps you out of your reverie: “Gimme some” Out of breath like you just ran a mile, you put the blunt to his lips, watching as he takes a drag, making intense eye contact with you as you begin to grind your heat against him. 

Joel looks you up and down, noting what a mess you’ve become for him. Blissed out, eyes fluttering closed, a whimpering mess with your current sole focus being the pursuit of that sweet pleasurable release and though he found that this may be one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen, if you continued rubbing yourself all over him this way, he was going to cum too, and Joel had other plans. 

“What a sight you are…” he groans before grabbing your hips roughly and holding them still. “But you’re gonna stay still like a good girl, baby. Aren’t ya?” He grunts, panting into your ear, his breathless, sexy voice threatening to make you unravel right then and there. He snakes his hand down into your heat, inserting one finger inside of you, watching you, delighted at your high pitched mewl. “God, you’re so wet for me, honey.” He inserts another finger, curling them both inside of you, starting a rhythm that renders you incapable of being a good girl for him. No, your hips move of their own volition, your hands tangle in his hair, your legs begin to shake, and then something inside you snaps when he removes his soaked hand from your pussy to bring his soaked fingers to his lips. A loud moan escapes you as your first orgasm hits you like a train, your body shuddering, eyes squeezed shut, as waves of pleasure course through your body.  

Joel shifts underneath you, one hand freeing himself from his boxers and positioning himself against your aching pussy, using his strength he holds you up by the bottoms of your thighs, sinking you down onto him. His tip presses ever so slowly inside of you, a long drawn out groan coming from the both of you. Joel moves his hips into you torturously slow, knowing it always takes some time for you to adjust to his size, but the wait is agonizing, you just need him. You push down into him, his cock entering you halfway. Joel throws his head back, in a long moan, panting, and then you start moving. You hold his shoulder for support while you bounce on his cock, getting more and more full of him with each bounce. 

“Ugh, yes, ohh, ahh babygirl you’re fucking filthy.” Joel’s commentary brings you close to another climax before you feel him lift you, hands on your ass. Joel gets up off the chair, lifting you with him, his dick still inside of you while he lays you on the desk. Joel grabs your wrists and holds them together above your head with one hand while teasing your breasts with the other hand. With your back on the desk and your bottom hanging off, Joel begins pounding into you, hard and fast while his fingers pinch your left nipple and his mouth teases the other. It’s too much, you squeeze your eyes shut bracing yourself for another orgasm when he grunts out “No!... Look at me. I need your eyes on me babygirl.” You comply, opening your eyes and training them on his. And so Joel watches you as you swiftly unravel–mouth agape, eyes wide and trained on his face, pussy clenching around his dick. You feel him tense, his cock twitching and spilling inside of you as he finishes. Both of you stay still there just panting and catching your breath for a couple of seconds before you feel him take you into his arms and carry your limp body to the couch. Joel sits down with you laying on top of him, straddling him much like you were in the chair earlier. Joel gently rubs your back while you drift off peacefully for a midday nap. 

[springseasonie]

Hate me more | LMH (M)

Enemies to lovers, Camp counselors Mark x Fem reader

Summary: You really dislike Mark and you're pretty sure he dislikes you too. Ever since he came to the camp last year, he's been nothing short of a headache to you. And now you're forced to work with him this summer, and his mission is clearly to piss you off.

Warnings: sexual content, heavy dubcon/cnc themes, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), kissing (shocker), Mark is annoying, so is the reader tbh, may be errors even though proof read

Word count: 7,7k

Song recs: kiss by NCT dojaejung (this is my way of promoting the unit go stream)

A/N: I was gonna write something for the release of golden hour but this took a bit longer than expected 😭 10 days later an I finally finished it lmao please give feedback if you want it's always appreciated

"Okay kiddos make sure you have all your things before we go back to the cabins okay?"

"Yes Ms. Y/N!"

You gave them a thumbs up as you leaned on a tree, waiting for all the kids to pack up. This was your life every summer for the past 4 years. Being a camp counselor was a lot of work the first time, but by the end of the summer, you had to come back. You loved your kids and they loved you. The staff was always so welcoming and nice. That was true until Mark started the third summer.

He was such an asshole. All the other female counselors gushed over him and his looks. He was constantly flirting with everyone, using his looks and charisma to get himself out of shit. It annoyed you, and Mark instantly took notice. He would side eye you all the time and talk about you as if you weren't friends with everyone else. He didn't really care though, he enjoyed being confronted by you every time he got "caught." Mark found your anger funny, never really taking you seriously.

And now you're paired to work with him this summer.

"Ms. Y/N, where is Mr. Mark? I need help getting something out a tree," one of the kids asked.

"That's a good question honey." You glanced around the area, looking over both shoulders to try and get a sign of him. And of course, he's nowhere to be found. "I don't see him around. We're just gonna have to wait for him okay?"

The little girl nods and runs back to her friends. Ten minutes go by and you start to get annoyed. This happened way more often than you would like to think. Mark disappears to do something or someone for way too long and you're left to take care of the kids by yourself. Sometimes, you almost think it's unbelievable how unreliable he is, sneaking away leaving you alone with 20 children in a forest. But then again, it's on brand for him.

5 more minutes went by and you start to get frustrated. You have no idea what he could be doing that's going to cause all of you to be late for dinner time. "Okay everyone please listen to me okay?" All the kids stop talking and turn to you. "I'm gonna go look for Mr. Mark, but I need all of you to sit in 5 rows of 4. Now." All the kids practically run to sit next to their friends and plop down on the floor.

"Good. None of you move or get up. If anything happens, scream at the top of your lungs okay? I'll be right back." All of the kids agreed as you turned to walk into the forest, going the way you last saw him.

"So fucking irresponsible," you muttered to yourself. "How the hell am I supposed to watch 20 kids by myself?"

You could still hear the kids, so you know you weren't too far away from the area or the trail. This wasn't new for you, always looking for him. It's only been a month since the both of you had to start working together, and he was already making shit hard for you. Mark liked to go hide somewhere. it was either to get away from you, the kids, or to get blown off by some staff member. You couldn't stand it.

"I mean seriously, can't he control himself for one fucking summer," you grumble. "Fucks everything that walks. What an ass."

"Well I wouldn't say that."

Your body jumped violently suddenly hearing his voice next to you. You whipped your head in his direction seeing him sitting, leaning in a tree. Mark had his ear buds in and from where you were standing, you could still hear the music playing.

"Where the hell were you," you asked angrily.

Mark stood up and dusted his pants off as he walked to you. You crossed your eyes, eyeing him up and down. He was so smug about everything. He always looked like something was amusing to him, like there was always a joke to tell.

"Here," he said.

"Clearly. And how the hell do you even have a working phone out here. There is literally no service."

Mark shrugged, wrapping the ear buds around his phone and putting it in his back pocket. "I downloaded stuff before I came."

"Whatever, let's go," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Where are the kids," he asked you, placing his hands in his pockets as he walked.

"In the same place I left them. I had to come get you like you were a lost child. Stop leaving me with all these kids."

Mark smiled in amusement as he walked behind you. You didn't really notice, but you tend to stomp when you are angry. And fortunately for Mark, it wasn't annoying. He actually found it cute, but he wouldn't tell you that.

"Can we take a break? My legs hurt," he whined teasingly.

"Mark, stop playing games. We have 20 kids in the forest waiting for us to come back and the sun will start setting soon," you replied, sighing heavily.

"Oh please we'll be okay."

And at this moment, you've just about had it with him. You turned around, lips pursed at his nonchalant response. Mark stopped in his tracks, looking up at you as you stood on the top of the small hill. "You have one more time to piss me off or I will report you. I'm not joking."

Mark's amused expression washed away as you turned around and kept walking. For the rest of the walk back, he said nothing. Soon enough, the both of you got back to the kids who were still sitting and chatting.

You sighed, groaning quietly. "I'm gonna do another headcount. You get that thing out of the tree."

"Why couldn't you just do it," he complained.

"Because- you know what, just get it out the tree."

You counted all of the kids, double and triple checking everyone and the area around you. Soon enough, Mark got the toy that was stuck in the tree out, and everyone was ready to leave. "Okay everyone you know the drill. Get your buddy and get in line. Mark, you'll watch the back."

"Didn't sound like a question," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I wasn't asking."

"I swear to you I will kill him if I'm ever alone with him again."

"He's really not that bad," Somi said, taking another bite of her pancake.

"Please, bad is an understatement," you say as you sit down. "He fucking left me with 20 kids, and then when we got back and I told him how dangerous that was, he says 'but you handled it, right?'"

Somi laughs, clearly amused at your story. You give her a confused look, not understanding why she wasn't siding with you. "Y/N, anything he says makes you angry."

"That's not the point!" Somi stops laughing when she sees how upset you are. "He left me and 20 kids in the forest near sunset to sit on his ass and listen to music. Then got an attitude with me because I was telling him what do when he wanted to act like a fucking child. I'm tired of it, Somi. I've been dealing with this for a month."

"Shit, I didn't think it was that serious," she said, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.

"We literally could've had a bear encounter or something. I don't want to keep taking responsibility for his shit," you say, sighing heavily. "Anyways, I'm done complaining. Let's just eat."

You went to bed last night still completely angry at what happened in the forest. Mark didn't say anything to you walking back, but your conversation once you got back to the main camp was nothing short of unpleasant. It consisted of all your usual unpleasantries with him. Mark didn't really seem to care much though. You hated that you always let him get a rise out of you once you said you weren't going to do it anymore. And at this point, you had to get to the bottom of it.

You looked around the dining hall trying to find Mark. You knew he was there, he always came late after roughhousing with the kids in his cabin. Searching around some more, you spot him in line getting food. "I see him."

"Please don't harass the man," Somi begged you.

"Too late." You got up and walked to him. You really needed all this bad energy between the both of you to disappear. You weren't too sure about him, but it made every day difficult and you couldn't deal with it all summer. "Hey buddy," you said, tapping his shoulder.

"Didn't know we were friends."

The fake smile immediately turned into a frown. "Our conversation from last night isn't finished."

Mark groaned quietly as you followed his pace in the line. "Why do you keep bothering me if you don't like me?"

"I'm not bothering you, I'm trying to figure out what your deal is," you whisper yell. You followed Mark to his usual seat with the other male counselors, taking a seat right next to him. You were too focused on him to notice the confused stares you got from everyone else.

"Um, hey Y/N," Haechan greeted you awkwardly. "Is this…your new spot?"

"I came to talk to your friend if you don't mind."

"She's crazy," Mark blurted out, making the table laugh.

You smacked him on the arm, making him turn to you with the brightest smile you've seen all summer. And for some reason this was the first time you looked at him without feeling pure irritation. He was actually pretty…cute?

You couldn't look directly in the eyes, fearing that the anger you felt all morning would go away. Instead of speaking, you got up and went back to the table with Somi.

"So..what happened," she questioned.

"Nothing."

"You don't seem too upset by it," Somi observed.

"What..what are you talking about," you said, trying to deflect.

"You can't fool me, you're terrible at lying," she laughed. Somi took another bit of her pancake, but stopped laughing, giving you a look as if she found out something. "Do you like him?"

"Keep your voice down! And don't eat with your mouth full, you look like a damn kid."

"Y/N, do you like him?"

"Of course not! I can't stand the man," you deny.

Somi squints her eyes and side eyes you, but says nothing. You know she doesn't believe you, but it doesn't really matter because either way, you don't like him. "Okay..just know that today is your day to clean the kitchen."

"I know," you said with a sigh.

"And his also," she reminded you.

"Goodness kill me now."

-

You and Mark cleaned the dishes in the kitchen silently, not daring to say a word. There was an unspoken rule between the 2 of you at the moment, first person to speak surrenders to the other for the entire summer. You'll never surrender to him, no matter what it takes (that's what you want to believe anyway.) Mark had been stealing glances for about 30 minutes now, watching you clean meticulously and quietly. He always thought you were pretty, except for when you were being annoying that is. He always thought of himself as the bigger person, despite his childish nature, so he thought he should end this silent game sooner than expected.

"Did you get sleep," he asked.

"Why do you care?"

"I can't be concerned about my friend," he said. Mark chuckled softly when you sucked your teeth.

"Why do you insist on pissing me off," you say, turning to him. "Like I really don't understand why you don't like me. Since you came here last year, I've been nothing short of annoyed with you."

"It's never been my intention, but I just happen to strike those emotions in some women."

"What the fuck does that mean?" You put down the dirty dishes, crossing your arms as you looked at him with a brow raised.

"It means," he replied, turning to you, "that the more women are attracted to me, the less they like me."

You scoffed, getting back to cleaning the dishes. "You wish. You're out of your fucking mind."

"If I'm crazy, then what exactly was that earlier," he asked. You didn't know, but Mark definitely noticed how you backed off of him during breakfast. The way your expression changed, how quick you got up. It almost seemed like you were running from something, and he knew exactly what it was. "I know you like me."

"I don't like you. I just didn't want to talk to you in front of all your friends. They were laughing at me, so I left," you explained. Mark took two steps to you, his body ending up close to yours. You backed up a bit, not understanding why he was close to you, but he followed you again. "What are you doing?"

"Testing something out," he said simply.

"Look I don't know what you're testing but I'm busy. " Just as you moved away from him, he placed his arms beside you, trapping you under him. The both of you have never been this close before. Sure there were times where he had to catch you or hold you for activities in the forest, but there was nothing like this. This was close. This was personal.

"What are you doing," you asked, shock written all over your face.

"Standing here." Mark's lips curled into a smirk as his eyelids dropped once glancing at your lips. "You're pretty."

"Thank you but I really need to-"

"You know," he started,"you never told me what you wanted to talk about before you left the table."

You sighed, making a dramatic pained expression. "Mark, please. Can you back up?"

"No."

You looked up at him, surprised that his face was closer than before. One more move and your lips would've probably touched his. 'Why am I even thinking about that right now,' you thought to yourself.

"I know you wanna kiss me," he said almost in a whisper. Mark chuckled softly seeing the frazzled look on your face. You were so easy to read, always saying you didn't like him knowing damn well you wanted him. He just wanted to make you say it. He wanted to break your prideful attitude down and make you beg for him.

"You are saying insane things right now." You couldn't even look him in the eye, too afraid you would melt under his body. He was too close. You couldn't control your heart beat or your whirling mind. 'Maybe kissing him wouldn't be so bad,' you thought to yourself, but pushed the thought to the back of your head.

"But you didn't say I was wrong," he said, leaning into your neck.

"Mark, seriously." The slight whine in your voice made you want to run and hide from everyone. You felt like you were going to collapse into his hands the closer he got. His voice was so soft, but his presence was still so dominating. It was almost too much for you to bear.

"What would you do if I kissed you right now," he whispered in your ear, a smile on his face. "Would you push me away, take it and get mad, or maybe give me another one?"

You could barely look at him, let alone speak. You had no idea how to respond to him. You didn't even know if you were supposed to. But what you did know is that if he made one more move or said anything else, you would most likely lose your mind. "Mark, it's too early in the morning for this," you said practically begging him to stop.

Mark released his hand from the counter, placing it on your waist. His grip was firm as he pressed you against the counter more, body so close his leg was between yours. "You're not even trying to run at this point. You little liar."

"Mark..what if someone comes in here?"

"Let them. Why do you care? Are you scared," he teased. Mark kissed the spot behind your ear softly, making you gasp. Your body tensed up in his hand, causing him to rub small circles in your waist in an attempt to comfort you. He kept missing down your neck, moving back up to kiss your jawline.

You stood there, still as a tree. Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in the feeling of his lips on your skin. At this rate there was no point in fighting it. He had already won like he did with everyone else. You felt Mark's hand leave your waist, grabbing your chin as he ran his finger down your bottom lip.

"If you want me to stop I will."

You shook your head unconsciously, brows slightly frowning at his words. You were desperate and he definitely knew from the way you were frozen and speechless.

"Good girl." Mark kissed you softly, but deeply. His hand slowly made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You dare to touch him, feeling like it was way too intimate. But before you could even pull away, he kissed you again, this time with even more sincerity. You didn't know why you had such a heavy feeling in your chest, but it did scare you a little bit.

"We have to finish all of this stuff in 15 minutes. You think we can make it," he asked on your lips.

"If you stop fast enough, maybe.."

Mark chuckled softly at your response, pulling away from you. He was clearly extremely turned on, but you were not the kind to help him with his problem, and he knew that. But that didn't stop his mind from drifting, thinking about how hot it would be if you dropped to your knees at this very moment.

"Wasn't that fun Y/N?"

"What are you talking about," you said, covering your face in embarrassment.

"Unwinding instead of having a stick up your ass," he jabbed.

You dropped your hands, scoffing at him. You shoved your way out of his arms, walking to the sink he was at previously. "Gosh, you're so annoying," you mumbled as you scrubbed the dirty plates.

"Yeah but you like it though."

"You wish."

"Proved my point."

You and Mark haven't spoken since the kitchen fiasco. You said a couple of words to each other when it came to the kids, but nothing more than that. You couldn't even look at him, the shame filling your body once he came into your vision. But one thing was for sure- you definitely didn't hate him as much. You were still very confused. You didn't understand where all those feelings came from for Mark in the kitchen. Maybe your subconscious? It didn't really matter, you just wanted to make sense of everything.

"Okay everyone, tonight is movie night so we need to leave a little early okay," you announced.

Mark leaned on a tree silently watching you as you interacted with the kids. You didn't know that he had conflicting feelings as well. All the teasing and messing around turning into sexual tension was not what he hoped for. He just wanted to mess with you. He wasn't actually going to kiss you for real, but when he saw the desperate scrunch of your eyebrows, how could he resist himself? If it weren't for the kids, he would definitely have his way with you right on the ground, but nothing in his life ever works right.

Mark admired the way you were with them, always so nice and careful. You were careful with anything really, never wanting to come off as irresponsible or rude. But he never cared about any of that. He didn't care if people thought he was a prick or an ass, which is why you were so intriguing to him. He never got a chance to actually introduce himself to you before you can dislike him as easily as you did.

After 20 minutes of walking back to the main site, the sun had finally set and all the kids and counselors went back to their respective cabins before going to the lake for movie night.

"So you're telling me," Somi started,"after all these months of not liking him, he came onto you in the kitchen and you didn't refuse?"

"I know, I know it's humiliating," you grumbled putting on your shirt.

"Enemies to lovers. My favorite trope."

You let out a loud embarrassed groan listen to her words. "We only kissed twice. We didn't say anything to each other for the rest of the day," you added.

"Not even for your group," she questioned.

"Well of course we did, but very little. He was..so distant," you said. You slipped into your jean shorts and put your shoes back on quickly. "I'm gonna go make sure all the girls are ready." You got up and walked outside to see everyone playing around. Just as you were about to round up your cabin, you see Mark who's talking to some of his kids. You wanted to stop staring at him, but you couldn't. You gulped as he glanced at you, giving you a small wave. "I hate him," you muttered to yourself almost as if you were trying to convince yourself it was true.

You shake your head, attempting to push what happened out of the forefront of your mind, but it's hard to do that when he's walking up to you. You turn away from his direction, hastily gathering the girls from your cabin. Just as you were about to make your way to the lake, you were tapped on the shoulder. Turning around agonizingly slowly, you face him with a fake smile.

"Hi," you said awkwardly.

"Hey, so listen-"

"I can't talk right now, we're about to head to the lake," you interrupted.

"I know but-"

"Can't talk."

Mark sighed, looking down at his shoes. He knew you were difficult, but not like this. "Can we talk after the movie?"

"Talk..about what? There's nothing to talk about," you say dismissively.

Mark rolled his eyes, walking away from you. You looked behind yourself, watching him walk back with his hands in his pockets. All that you could hope for was him forgetting whatever conversation he wanted to have with you.

Your cabin was the first to get to the lake while Mark's was the last like always. The movie started at 7, so thankfully for you, you could be left alone for 2 hours. You leaned against a tree as you watched the movie projected on the sheet quietly.

Unlike you, Mark was watching you silently, eyes never leaving your body as you stared at the screen. He knew you wanted nothing to do with him even after he kissed you, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He's never been in a situation like this before. Having to chase after you was starting to dampen his pride, but he liked it.

He watched as you whispered to Somi about something, not able to read your lips. Maybe he shouldn't have thought to follow you as you walked away from everyone, but getting to be alone with you came rare, so he had to take his chances.

"Hey, I'm gonna go back to the cabin. I forgot something," he whispered to Haechan.

"Okay, be quick though. I don't wanna be responsible for you," he replied.

Mark gave him a dry laugh and walked away, following you from behind. Mark picked up that you were going to your cabin after a few turns on the trail. The sun was starting to set, so he began to rationalize he weird actions to himself. "It's not weird that I'm following her," he muttered to himself quietly. "I'm just keeping her safe." It was surprising how you didn't notice anyone was following you. You were usually always attentive, but it seems that you were only that way with other people.

Soon enough, the both of you made it to your cabin. You went inside with a big sigh, letting the door slam behind you. Mark would be a kind person and knock on the doors but he wasn't all that kind, so scaring you is the option he went with. Mark quickly went up to the door, opening it quietly. Your back was turned as you rummaged through a bag for something, causing you to not hear his footsteps or the door creaking open.

"Boo!"

"Fuck," yelled, body jumping violently as you turned around. "Mark?"

"Surprise."

You scoffed rolling your eyes at his jazz hands motion. "You're not funny. Now get out, this is a girls cabin."

"I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted to talk." He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as you went back to looking for whatever you were looking for.

"I really don't care, just leave," you said sternly.

Mark had enough of beating around the bush with you, the constant teasing, and asking dumb questions. He had to know why there was bad blood between you, especially after you let him kiss you that morning. "Why don't you like me?"

"You're kidding." You let out a dry laugh as you turned to face him. "I don't like you? I'm pretty sure it's the other way around."

"I'm just curious because since last year, you never gave me a chance, so I really want to know," he said, lifting his brows with a small smile.

"I want you to tell me why you don't like me first, then maybe I'll consider explaining myself to you."

Mark took small steps towards you, not being able to control the smirk on his face when you furrow your brows in confusion. "You're uptight and rude to me. And you never give me your attention unless it's to be rude with me, and I hate that that's the only way I get to talk to you. You only want to speak to me if it's to tell me how bad of a job I'm doing or how frustrating it is to be around me or work with me."

"That's not true, I-"

"I'm not done." You closed your mouth, intimidated by how commanding his voice was. "Then you go around and say to everyone how much you hate me. I know you complain to Somi and all the other counselors, and that's fine. But next time I would like to hear it from you directly."

"That I hate you?" You gave him a weird look, making him chuckle softly.

"Yes. Tell me that you hate me." He was walking closer to you slowly, arms now at his sides as he looked down at you with hungry eyes. Your arms were still crossed as you stood there, not allowing yourself to show how intimidating he was to you. Your face was calm, but your heart was beating faster with every step he took.

"I'm not telling you I hate you. Can I talk now," you asked.

"Go for it."

"You're fucking annoying and not helpful. You came into this camp last year and made all these friends and everyone liked you instantly. Everyone says you're funny and such a great guy but I have yet to see it. All you've done since you've been here was piss me off."

"You wanna know why," he said. He leaned down to your ear, a smile tugging at his lips. "Because you're pretty when you're angry."

"That's not funny," you said, looking away from him.

"I wasn't joking." Mark moved away from you, eyes going straight to your lips.

"Seriously mark, I don't care that you like to get me riled up, but yesterday was uncalled for. Do you have any idea…will you stop staring at me like that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Mark could barely concentrate on what you were saying. Your expression, the way you spoke, how close the 2 of you were. All he wanted was to just kiss you and shut you up for the night. Mark could barely keep his hands off you, every bit of self restraint coursing through his veins.

You sighed trying to back up from him, but all you did was bump the edge of your bed making you fall back. You plopped on the thin mattress placing your hand behind you to stay balanced on the bed. Mark's gaze turned dangerous, staring at you as if you were prey.

"God you're so hot," he mumbled.

"Mark," you said, his name coming out a bit breathlessly.

Before you could finish your sentence, he pinned your body to the bed. You were dead silent as you watched his eyes move rapidly along your face and body. "Mark..we can't. We have to be back soon."

"Stop fighting it. Just say you want me," he mumbled quietly. He leaned into your neck, breath tickling your skin as you closed your eyes.

You shook your head, brows furrowing as you tried to push the feeling to the back of your head. But the only thing you can think about is how his hands are leaving your wrists as he moves them down your body. Your breath hitched when his fingertips brushed against the slightly exposed skin of your stomach. You didn't stop him as he lifted your shirt, hands attaching to waist firmly.

The both of you stayed silent, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of breathing and your old bed creaking at every movement he made. You watched him as he moved his hands lower, fingers resting on the button of your jean shorts. Mark looked at you for any signs of you wanting to stop, but all he saw was the desperation on your face.

You gulped watching him unbutton and unzip your shorts, lifting your hips as he tugged them off you. Mark took his shirt off, laying it next to your shorts. He hooked his fingers on your underwear, pulling them off you quickly. You let out a small yelp when he tugs you towards him, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he moves between your legs.

'Just get on with it,' was all you could think. You were way too eager to get him between your legs, and at this point, nothing was going to stop it. "Hurry up," you said, breaking the long silence.

Mark didn't say anything or look at you, all he did was smile as his face disappeared between your legs. A small gasp of please leaves your lips as he kitten licks your core. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back onto the mattress taking in every movement. He ran his hand up and down your leg, nails lightly scratching your skin making you shiver. Needing more friction, you begin to grind yourself on his tongue slowly, but he stops you with a hold on your hips.

"We're gonna do this nice and slow okay," he said.

"We can't, we have to get back soon."

"They'll be okay. There's more than enough people out there." Before you could say anything his mouth was back on your core, tongue pressing against your sensitive bud hard. Without thinking your hands made their way to his hair, fingers running through the blonde locks. Mark kept licking at you agonizingly slow, chuckling when you whined for more. He would speed up at moments, flicking his tongue against your clit faster just to tease you, then stop.

"Please," you begged breathlessly, "it feels like I'm being punished."

"I know," he mumbled.

You smacked him on the side of his head softly, making the male look up at you with a brow raised. "I fucking hate you."

Mark chuckled, removing one of his hands from your hip. He didn't take his eyes off of you as he slid two fingers into you, pumping them slowly. Mark watched as you basically fell apart in his hands, moans never stopped spilling from your lips. He began licking your clit, but faster, almost sending you over the edge.

"Shit, don't stop," you whined softly. You couldn't control your hips as you grinded against his fingers and tongue. Your jaw dropped when he fingered you faster. Gripping his hair, your hips moved on their own as you grinded faster. You were so close, your core pulsing on his fingers. "Fuck I'm gonna cum," you whined.

Your whines became louder, the pornographic sounds of your moaning, bed creaking, and sounds coming from Mark filling the empty cabin. This is one the many times you thanked God no one was around. Your eyes rolled back and body shuddered as your orgasm hit you like a truck making you mumble curses that not even Mark could make out. You let go of his hair, plopping back down on your mattress breathing heavily.

"I'm assuming that was the first time you came in a month?" Mark slid his fingers out of you slowly, wiping the digits on your sheets. He moved your leg off his shoulder, lifting himself from between your legs.

"Do you think I'm getting myself off after hiking and being around kids in this damn camp everyday," you asked, rolling your eyes at his statement.

"No. I think you're too uptight to do that," he said with a soft chuckle.

"It's crazy that you're still calling me uptight like I won't get up and leave."

Mark didn't respond to you, laughing softly to himself knowing you wouldn't move either way. He moved off the bed untying his sweats. You watched him as he let his clothes fall to the ground, eyeing his body. Not that you couldn't get it before, but now you see why he was a big deal to the other female counselors.

"Aren't we gonna use protection," you asked, gulping when he was back in front of you.

"I don't have any," he mumbled.

"You're so fucking ridiculous," you grumbled. "You're lucky I'm on birth control."

Mark could barely hear you with how eager he was to see you lose yourself for him. No amount of mean words or insults could turn him off in the moment, every word you spoke sounded like exactly what he needed to hear. "You're so fucking hot when you're mad." His lids dropped as he grabbed your ankles, pulling you closer to him.

"Don't tease, we don't have all night," you whined.

Mark couldn't take his eyes off you as he lined himself with you, slowly entering you with ease. You looked pretty under the light of the setting sun peering through the window. The light hit your eyes perfectly as they rolled back, soft moans leaving your lips at the same time. Mark thrusted into you slowly holding your waist firmly. He wanted to savor the moment, finally able to get you under him, because even though he had you now, he might not ever get you again. It was taking everything in him to not ram into you after every move not wanting it to end too quickly.

With the way he was looking at you you thought he was gonna eat you alive. And in all honesty you would let him. It was conflicting to you that all this pent up aggression towards him exploded into sex, but you were clearly not that conflicted. You would never tell him, but you had always been attracted to him and the kiss was just the tip of the iceberg.

He slid his hands up the back of your legs, pinning them to your chest as he thrusted into you faster. Your moans echoed in the empty cabin, not even thinking about if anyone could be near. "Feels so good," you moaned.

"Who's making you feel good?"

"Fuck..you are," you whined, eyes fluttering shut as you take in pleasure.

"Good girl," he cooed. Mark watched as you slipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit at the same place as his thrust. His fingers were constantly kneading your legs, leaving prints in your skin. "You're close aren't you baby?"

You nodded fast, looking at him with desperate eyes. "Kiss me.. please."

Mark didn't have to think twice. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss quite literally sticking his tongue down your throat. You sucked on the wet muscle, moaning loudly on his tongue every time he thrusted into you.

"Mark..fuck," you moaned softly. Mark took a hand off your leg, wrapping an arm on the small of your back pulling you closer to him. You kissed him again, moans and whimpers poured into his mouth.

Mark moaned softly against your lips as you squeezed around him, cumming on his length. You pulled away, your lewd sounds becoming louder as he didn't stop fucking you. Mark leaned down, kissing your neck messily as you clung onto his shoulder. Mark has never had this kind of passionate feeling with a person before. It was starting to feel like more than just a sexual attraction to him, maybe he did actually have feelings for you.

"Cum in me," you said cupping his face.

Mark looked at you, brows furrowing in uncertainty. "A-are you sure? I-"

"Please baby just cum for me," you mumbled, completely taken over by the pleasure spreading in your body. "Can you do that for me?"

"Anything for you," Mark breathed out. Your words went straight to his length, his pace speeding up as he felt himself closer to cumming.

Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling back as you felt another orgasm creeping up on you. "Y-you're gonna make me cum," you whimpered.

With just a few more thrust, both you and Mark came at the same time, loud moans and groans filling the space. Mark's body went limp, laying on top of you with his face buried on the side of your neck. No one said anything for a minute, just laid there in each other's embrace trying to catch your breaths.

"I guess you don't hate me after all," Mark joked, breaking the silence.

"Only a little less."

Mark snickered as pulled himself out of you slowly. "Let's get you something to clean up with." He got up and pulled his boxers and pants on. You were sure it was because you just had sex with him, but the way you looked at him was different now. Before you were completely annoyed by his presence, but now even the little faces he made were endearing. Of course, Mark would never stop being an infuriating person to talk to but maybe you like talking to him. Maybe you liked being around him this whole time.

"If you want to go for round 2 just say it." Mark walked back to you with tissues, handing them to you with a smile. He chuckled softly when you gave him a frown for his comment. "Back to hating me I guess."

"I don't hate you Mark," you admit. The words felt unnatural to you, but they were the truth. You don't hate him, and you don't think you ever did.

"I'd like it if you did though," he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. "If what we just did considered hate fucking, please hate me more."

You rolled your eyes, tossing the dirty tissues in the trash bin across the room. "Who said it was gonna happen again?" Mark watched you closely as you shimmied back into your underwear and shorts. "What? Is there something on my face?"

"Yeah." He stood up, pulling you to him, making you gasp softly. Mark kissed you deeply, smiling against your lips when you kissed him back. "We should get back. I think we've been gone too long," he mumbled.

You nodded, kissing him one more time before he pulled away from you agonizingly slow. "Please don't be weird when we get back. I don't want to have to hate you again," you joked.

"Didn't I just tell you I want you to hate me more?"

"What do you mean you fucked him last night," Somi whisper yelled.

"Yeah..I did..right on the bed you're sitting on."

"Ew ew ew." She shot up from your bed with a frown on her face, making you laugh loudly. "Seriously what is wrong with you, why didn't you say that before I sat down?"

"Thought your reaction would be funny, and it was," you'd aid giggling.

Somi looked at you with disgust on her face, dusting off her body. "Anyways…are you guys like..a thing now?"

"I don't know. I don't think so," you answered.

"Well do you wanna be a thing?"

"Well..I think I do," you admitted. "But I don't know him that well, you know. All I did was have sex with him. What if he doesn't want anything," you said.

"You want me to be honest?"

"Please do."

"I think you should go talk to him. Like right now," she suggested.

"Now? I don't even know if he's in his cabin," you stated.

"Just go. If he's not there, go back another time. You should talk to him while your feelings are still fresh," she suggested.

Somi was right. Even though you thought it was still a bit early to talk to him, you couldn't stop thinking about him all day and all night. Throughout the day, the both of you kept stealing glances, staring at each other but not saying a word. It's been hard trying to keep your bubbling feelings for him at bay, especially when you're working so close for the summer. But Somi was right, it wouldn't hurt to try.

You nodded, sighing softly. "You're right. I should go." You turned walking to the door, but when you opened it, Mark was standing there, hand up like he was about to knock.

"Oh," you said, surprised. "Hi."

"Hey," he said, looking everywhere but at you. "Can I, um, talk to you?"

"Uh, yeah. You wanna talk here or.."

"Just walk with me. Please?" You've never seen him so nervous or unsure before. It was kind of cute. You agreed, leaving the cabin and walking along the trail with Mark.

The first couple of minutes were silent. Neither one of you said anything. The only thing that could be heard were the sounds of your feet on the dirt trial and the laughter of children from afar. But it wasn't an awkward kind of silence. It felt comfortable, he felt comfortable and warm.

"I really like you Y/N," he started. "And I know it might be weird for you, but I just felt like you had to hear it."

His words went straight to your heart, making it beat faster with every syllable. You blinked fast, not really knowing how to respond. You were afraid of coming into him too strongly, saying something that would scare him away, but you had to say something.

"I..like you too," you confessed. Your face was beginning to heat up, palms becoming clammy from the nervousness. You haven't been like this since middle school, all shy and nervous.

"So..where should we go from here?" Mark raised a brow and looked at you. You glanced at him quick enough to not want to run away from the situation all together. He grabbed your hand, making you pause mid step. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it at this point, and you were sure he could too.

"I, uh, I don't know," you stuttered.

Mark chuckled, clasping his fingers with yours. "I've never seen you so nervous."

"I'm not nervous." You don't know who exactly you were trying to prove that too, but it definitely wasn't him because as soon as you spoke he laughed.

"I think we should start over this summer," he said. "I think we should meet each other for the first time again."

You looked at him confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he started, turning to you. He stopped walking and tugged your hand to look at him. "I mean we should start again from a clean slate. I want to get to know you better on a good note, but only if you're willing."

You gulped looking down at your feet. You must've looked like a kid with the way mark was smiling down at you. "I..I would like that. I'd like that a lot actually." You looked at him, expression going from shy to worriedm. "I'm sorry for y'know being rude and everything."

Mark didn't say anything, allowing your words to linger for a moment before he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was softer this time, more innocent. Mark pulled away with a small smile on his face. "You don't have to apologize to me for anything. I know I've been an ass, and I'm willing to make up for it."

It was hard to keep a smile off your face and stop yourself from blushing like a kid. "If we do this, will you stop talking to me once we're out of here," you asked.

"Y/N when I said I liked you I was serious. I don't want this to be a summer fling. I actually want to get to know you before I date you," he explained.

Your eyes went wide, completely flustered from his statement. "You want to date me?" Your heart fluttered repeating his words almost immediately, getting butterflies in your stomach. "But I've been so terrible to you and-"

"So? We like each other and we should explore that this summer."

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. You let go of his hand and placed it on the back of his neck, kissing him. This was the first time you kissed him. And it felt good. It felt good knowing that you didn't have to keep trying to convince yourself you didn't like him, or that you were never attracted to him. You pulled away, eyes never leaving the man in front of you. You didn't know if this conversation would make a difference for the rest of the day or the rest of the summers, but if Mark was true to a hate he said, you could wait.

But if not, then maybe you just might hate him for real.

[kgetb]

He got that boyish look I like in a man (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) ||>> Tom Riddle

song to listen to :

I Think He Knows (Taylor Swift)

summary:

Y/n tests how fast she could piss off Tom riddle with her inability to keep her mouth shut daily, until Tom finally snaps at her yapping ahh

golden retriever x black cat trope, swearing, fluff, tension, jealousy, Hufflepuff reader, one-sided friendship LMFAOOA😭😭, pining

goodness I dislike this one a lot...

lover masterlist ♡.

⤷ : : YANNA'S MAP .. : :

Y/n and her friends, all sat at the Hufflepuff Table, all of them laughing at Y/n’s jokes. Whilst they also all continued to talk about whatever, caught up in some random topic.

The sun-like girl engaged in the conversation as well, not until she spotted a Familiar Figure who walked down the Great Hall by himself. She stood up immediately from where she sat, and excused herself with a huge smile as she recognized who it was.. Who she calls... 'Sol'... Tom riddle. out of all people, seriously..?

“There she goes over to Riddle again!” One of her friends said, as they all watched how Y/n skip cheerfully towards the Boy. Who was anything but cheerful.

“heyyyaa!” Y/n called out, as walked over to he, who everyone feared. Tom Riddle. He let out a scowl, as he turned his head. realizing who was walking towards him. her... again?

“Well if it isn't my favorite Slytherin! heya, Tommmmyyy!” Y/n chirped, as she managed to sling one of her arms over Tom's shoulder, who narrowed his eyes at the girl. Literally not even hiding the fact that he was judging her whole existence as a person heavily.

“Don't ever call me that. And get your filthy arm off of my shoulder this instant.” Tom instantly hissed at Y/n with a harsh glare. The hufflepuff shrugged, unfazed yet complied. Removing the arm off of his shoulder, grinning like an idiot, her cheeks warming at the sight of Tom.

The Dark-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows at Y/n’s expression, then walked away back to the corridors of the Great Hall, exiting it again. with the hopes that Y/n wouldn’t follow him out, and just go back to her 'Hufflepuff pack.' but deep down, a growing feeling emerged in him, wishing that she'd follow him out.

And of course, Y/n still followed him outside. Leaving her group of friends, for the 'one-sided Friendship' she had with Tom. “awh c'mon Sol. Calm down, you're already so mad at me~” Y/n whined dramatically, as she tried to catch up to her 'buddy', who was walking as fast as he could. While maintaining a poker face, and with his hands tucked into the pockets of his robe.

The dramatic tone off Y/n, along with her words caused the Slytherin to let out a grunt, and roll his eyes. Yet continued walking with no comment. Thinking the 'sunshine' was gonna give up and stop following him around like a 'Stray Dog' soon enough.

But unfortunately for Tom, Y/n still followed him even after every turn, and enter of random corridors. Earning some looks in the hallways, they were still not so used to seeing.. Tom Riddle who was literally the definition of the devil himself, with Y/n Y/l/n who was an absolute angel. Literally the sun, and the moon.

“y'know I've been studying more abo—”

“oh for fuck's sakes! leave me alone!” Tom snapped harshly raising his voice for the first time at Y/n, finally getting fed up of her constant 'pestering', and 'talking.'

Y/n flinched suddenly at the raise of Tom's voice, and the genuine annoyed expression on his face.

And maybe for the first time ever, Y/n's sun-like demeanor dropped. She nodded, and flashed a forced grin along with a thumbs up towards Tom without uttering the words that irked Tom every day, “erh. I'll see you later, then Riddle.”

Riddle.

Riddle...?

She's never called him that before??? Tom's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched Y/n's figure turn away from him, and walk away with her fingers intertwining with the other, fidgeting.

Tom huffed, as his gaze followed Y/n's figure walk off with pursed lips, before walking away once she's finally left his sight. Ignoring the quickened pounding of his heart..

---

“that was NOT how I expected it to go, guys!” Y/n groaned hopelessly, after ranting about how Tom basically got fed up, and yelled at her ass.

“guys, I don't think I have a chance. He definitely hates me,” She frowned and dipped her face in her cold palms, bringing her knees up to her chest

Her friends all exchanged glances, not quite used to seeing their little ball of Sunshine—Y/n, upset. Over some Boy, what a foreign sight to see

One of her friendz—Willow, placed her hand on Y/n's shoulder, “Y/n.. We think it's best for you to.. avoid Riddle,” she advised with a small smile, and an encouraging nod

Y/n removed her palms from her Face, placing them on her knees, turning her head then over to her friend, with furrowed eyebrows, with her lips curved downwards, “hm, I guess you guys're right. Maybe he's really just like the moon, beautiful, yet hard to reach.”

Her friends all exchanged glances once again, as they listened to Y/n's words not expecting her to give in that fast, while also giving such a 'poetic' quote. Definitely not like her at all..

“take a break from him for a while, focus on yourself more!” her friend advised once again, yet with a much more happier tone, trying to ease Y/n's mood.

---

Just as usual, Y/n and her friends all sat down at the Hufflepuff Table for breakfast. All engaging in different conversations, whilst having breakfast.

And as Y/n finally noticed a Familiar Figure she's been wanting to see, her friends all shook their head and told her to sit down, reminding her the conversation they've had last night.

She nodded, and sat back down on her seat, watching as Tom finally made it over his Table without her having to pester, and piss him off like usual..

---

A few days then have passed, and Tom has gotten tenser, feeling off. And of course, he's quickly realized why he's felt like something was missing.. It was none other than the absence of Y/n

And as soon as hes realized, hes swiftly darted through corridor after corridor, in need , desperate. to hear the what he describes as — 'annoying', and 'irritatable'.. the voice of Y/n

Tom gritted his teeth, as he finally spotted Y/n all cheerful, and chatting with her Friends, without even knowing how much of an effect she had on him!

He walked until he was behind Y/n, towering over her as he turned his gaze over to her friends, with a displeased expression. The three girls immediately cleared their throat, and scurried away silently. Leaving the poor Girl, standing there all confused as to why her friends had suddenly just ditched her..

“Why've you been avoiding me?” a husky voice erupted from behind her all so suddenly, causing her to tense up whilst her eyes widened..

She slowly turned her head over her shoulder, and was met Tom with a frown plastered on his face, as he eyed Y/n down.

Y/n silently snickered to herself at his expression, “Well Riddle, You told me to leave 'ya alone.” She stated confidentally, folding her arms over her chest

“Stop calling me that.” He murmured coldly, furrowing his eyebrows as Y/n called him by his last name — Riddle..

"And why would you even listen to what I said, anyway?” He scoffed, whilst Y/n brushed him off and walked away from him.

“Y/n L/n!” Tom called out sternly, causing the Girl to freeze in her tracks, and turn her heel over to face the Boy

“What, Riddle what?! What do you want from me?!” She raised her voice at Tom, trying to surpress a smile and stifle a laugh.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He asked, once again. With the same tone and husky voice taking a few steps closer to Y/n glaring harshly at her for making him feel so.. vulnerable.

“Isn't that what you want though?”

“N-No! I don't want that, okay?! I don't like it when you... Avoid me like that.” Tom mumbled the last part, yet he assummed it was still loud enough for Y/n to hear, as he saw how her lips parted, whilst she stared deeply into Tom

“I don't like it when you call me Riddle either alright? I don't like it when you aren't talking,” Tom rambled, eyes widening as the words continued to slip through his lips, words he've secretly wanted to say.

A laugh then surpassed Y/n's lips as her lips now curved into a grin. “I thought you hated me or somethin” She admitted, shaking her head at her own words whilst shrugging her shoulders with her arms still folded

“If I hated you, I would've killed you already.” He responded bluntly, whilst his gaze maintained fixated onto Y/n, wandering over her eyes then over to her lips.

“so 'ya love me?” She teased and nudged Tom with her elbow playfully, her demeanor now lightening up, and back to her usual sunshine self

Tom cleared his throat, and slid his hands into the pockets of his robe, “maybe I do?” His lips then curved into a grin, before walking past Y/n, knowing she was gonna follow him anyway.

“h—hey! Tom, wait! what d'ya mean by that?!”

mentions : @helendeath

[pursuitseternal]

Introducing “Love Me or Hate Me (for both work in my favour):” Enemies to Lovers, Gur!Tav x Astarion

Astairon x Tav (Katja) | E | 4k Chapter 1

Ask box fill from @thegoodwitchs-blog

Summary: Katja hates her circumstances of a tadpole in her head, but she hates him more. Gur by birth, monster hunter by trade like her people, it takes all her limited Barbarian control not to stake him in his sleep. As for him, she’s the same stock of vagrant that killed him all those centuries ago; punishing her should be fun and harmless… well, maybe just a little harmful.

CW: Enemies to Lovers, Hate sex, angry sex (DubCon?), manipulation, semi-public sex, jealousy, biting and mild choking, Act 1 spoilers

Ao3 Link | Astarion fic Masterlist

Ch. 1:Little Vagrant

Every single instinct in Katja’s body sat at high alert from the moment she met him. Since the moment he pulled a dagger on her, she should have disarmed him like her elders had taught her back in the village and staked him through the heart for good measure.

And that was before her worst suspicions had been confirmed.

Before she saw the after effects of his true nature, the morning after he bit her cleric.

Vampire… slave to sanguine hunger… monster…

Enemy.

But there were worse monsters to fight—Mindflayers. And he was too useful to dispatch, not while they had a healer to find and a Goblin camp to infiltrate and an Archdruid to save.

Katja would just have to let the monster’s undead heart keep beating at a dirge’s pace until she no longer needed him. His blades were too quick, his ferocity in battle unmatched, especially now that he could fight with knife and fang. She had to admit, it was thrilling to watch… his lithe movements, graceful and equally deadly as he fought. She understood why her people couldn’t let his kind live.

They were too powerful, too dangerous, and too beautiful.

Once, she stumbled on him bathing in the river, another gift of the tadpole to allow such a monster the ability to enter running waters without harm.

Pugh.

At first she had been revolted by the paleness of his skin and the scars on his back. It was… too disgusting for her to look away, she told herself. Too risky to leave him unobserved, unguarded. He could attempt to do anything… best to remain in hiding.

Crouching in the bushes, she heard him giggle. “Well, well, well. Our churlish leader…. You’d be a blight on your people if they knew you were… lusting after a soulless creature like me.” He turned those unnerving crimson eyes in her direction. “Likely they’d put your head on a pike just for thinking about what I look like naked, darling.” He smirked wickedly. “Tch, what a shame that would be to have one less Gur vagrant in the world.”

His lip twitched as she stood from her hiding place. Katja’s rounded human ears turned beet red in the dark, her long golden braids whipping her back as she spun on her heel and made for camp.

He won this battle. But she would win the war between them. His insufferable voice would quiet permanently someday, his shifting, crimson eyes would stare at her lifelessly. He would look so beautiful with a stake through his ribs.

He was a menace, and Katja was lucky by all the gods that he hadn’t killed her yet. She didn’t know why he had yet to drain her dry. Maybe his hunger was sated because he was drinking his fill from the Cleric every night. She rolled her eyes as she watched them each morning departing their shared tent. It made her sharpen her ax extra those mornings before battle. This day, they were headed for the Goblin camp, just beyond the village. And as they packed up camp, making their way over trails, Katja bristled as Astarion’s cold presence drew close.

“Are you alright, darling? Your pulse sounded this morning as if your feeble, mortal heat was bout to explode. I didn’t know that a Gur had a heart, much less that it could beat so childishly fast with jealousy,” he sneered down at her. Those sharp and sinister features were a good head and a half above her after all.

“Jealous? Pft,” Katja grimaced, shifting her pack on her shoulders. “Why would I be jealous of a creature with no soul, vampire?”

“It’s not my soul that interests you, I’ve noticed. It’s my body, and what I do with it…” his icy lips pressed nearer to her ear, almost touching, “and to whom I do said things…”

A dagger pressed into his ribs faster than he could draw a breath, a breath his undead body didn’t need. “Careful, monster,” Katja hissed. “Or I’ll be the one thrusting. You’ll be rammed on the point of my weapons, not unlike our poor Cleric whom you’ve beguiled.”

“She doesn't consider herself in such dire straits. In fact, she rather enjoys it. You should ask her, see what it is you’re missing out on…”

“I’d sooner skin a kobold,” she gagged. “The Cleric's choices are her own. If she wishes to sully herself with the undead, to damn her soul by feeding you her life essence, then so be it.”

Astarion paused in his tracks, laughing slowly. “Oh, I can’t tell if it would have been worth the risk to bite you instead.” He tilted his rumpled silver head, eyes assessing her every inch, noticing weaknesses in her hide armor, watching her fingers still twitching on her dagger’s hilt. “No, corrupting you and your narrow prejudices wouldn't be worth the risk of tasting your blood. I bet it’s sourer than vinegar and just as repellent.” He sneered so wide, she could almost see her reflection in the glint of his teeth.

“You try to bite me, and I will make a necklace from your teeth…” she hissed. “Once I pry them from your skull, Vampire.”

“Oh, I do like them feisty….” A single cold digit ran down her blushing cheek. Ice on her temper’s flames. A gentle caress, a lover’s touch. It made her whole frame go rigid in a second.

And it made Astarion chuckle, low and throaty as he continued on the path.

“Honestly, we could just leave the Druids and Tieflings to their own natural consequences,” the Vampire mouthed off as usual, complaining with his typical arrogance and selfishness. Leaning against the wall of the Shattered Sanctum, he gave his wicked half-smile to Shadowheart beside him.

Katja just shuffled her feet, switching the shoulder her greataxe rested on for a reprieve. “We can’t let a bunch of Goblins in league with the Absolute decimate a sacred grove,” she sneered, making that scar down the side of her left cheek twist. “But I don’t expect the Cleric of Shar and a fucking vampire to understand the sense behind it.”

Astarion raised his brow, his sinister smile turning to land on her instead. “Can’t you imagine just how wonderful the resulting chaos would be if we did?” He gave a deep and almost lewd sigh. “It would be… delicious.”

Rolling her eyes, Katja mumbled a curse in her native tongue, sure that neither of her least favorite companions would understand.

But given the way the vampire’s mouth curved down in distaste, she wasn’t so sure she was the only one in their midst to speak Gurri. Katja grimaced as she looked around the desiccated temple of Selûne, remembering all her childhood prayers to the goddess and ignoring the way the Sharran seemed to gloat at every violated shrine.

Honestly, they deserved each other, she decided with a derisive sniff. She had company enough with Gale, sweet and intelligent, and with Wyll, bold and legendary monster slayer himself.

Stuff of dreams and fantasies. The kind of man to make her tribe proud.

She should go and find him, the Blade of Frontiers, but her feet seemed frozen. If she left these two imps, what trouble would they get into… no. She needed to stay right where she was, even if it was vile and disgusting company.

“Shadowheart!” the Wizard’s voice hissed from behind a column, and all three of them turned around. Gale beckoned the Cleric forward. “We need to find where the Archdruid is being kept… but we also need to deal with a little… problem. This Priestess Gut seems to need a talking to, asking us about some brand and the worship of the Absolute. It’s your time to shine, Cleric of Shar, or… well, as a servant of the Goddess of Darkness, I guess you won’t shine so much as…”

Astarion huffed to interrupt the beginnings of another awkward and king ramble from their companion. “You can’t handle it, Wizard? Didn’t you used to fuck a Goddess and now what? Can’t handle a lowly Goblin priestess?”

“I’d be more than happy to handle this,” Shadowheart grinned. “It was getting a little too crowded in here for my tastes.” She shot a pointed glare with those green eyes towards their blonde Barbarian.

As the Cleric left with Gale, Astarion closed in on Katja, silently and stealthily until his body barely brushed her back. “You Gur always ruin all the fun,” he hissed in her ear. “Not the first time your kind has… spoiled my endeavors.”

She turned to face his glare, crimson and wroth. “I haven’t done anything to you, Vampire, not yet anyway. I’ve only found myself in the same predicament as you; such hatred for someone who could be your ally.”

“Or my sworn enemy,” he sneered, looking down this aquiline nose at her, this little Barbarian. “Don’t you have some throats to cut and innocents to swindle?”

“Or monsters to stake?” she sneered right back, unknowingly drawing her small and strong frame to stand toe to toe with him. Her face mere inches from his own, his breath washed down on her, cool and metallic in scent. And then that mouth twisted in a wicked smirk, opening to speak…

“C’mon,” a high-pitched, nasally voice giggled beside them as three Goblin children bolted past them. “That bear they captured is in the Worg pens. Bet we can make him roar!”

“Halsin,” Katja whispered, following the urchins at a distance as they weaved through the camp. She was small, but certainly not stealthy, and even as she managed to slip into the cells, the faint growls of a large animal’s rumbling in the distance, an ice cold hand shot out from behind her to pull her into the shadows.

A small storage room, just off the cell block, that’s where she was. Astarion’s hard, cold body pressed her against the wall, his finger over his lips to signal for her silence.

But her rage ignited, her nostrils flared, ready to burst. Quickly, his chilled palm closed over her mouth just in time to muffle the below of anger she gave. His frame crushed her, and that palm wasn’t enough to quiet her. Long, icy fingers closed around her throat, silencing her and shutting off her air.

Her breath ragged, she did the one thing her feral mind screamed for her to do. She bit him.

“You viper,” he hissed right in her ear. “Do you want us to get caught? Want to join the Druid in the cell?”

Katja only bit harder, struggling to fill her lungs.it made her body squirm against him, fighting to move to claw at him, but her arms were both pinned behind her back, already going numb. Writhing, she chased some unknown feeling… a blind need for release, her heart racing as her hips bucked against his thigh. His toned leg pressed harder between her thighs, the friction making her eyes tear as she struggled. She needed to break free, she told her brain, but her body, her core longed for a different release.

His laughter rumbled in her ear, the din of the dungeons thick enough to cover whatever little sounds they made in this small, neglected space. His thigh lifted her, pressing perfectly against her seam where she burned for more. Sparks of light crossed her vision, heat seared through her veins, and something pressed into her belly, something long and hard. His own icy, blood-stinking breath raced faster as he observed her grinding on his leg. And as she stared into his gaze, she watched as his eyes dilated, from crimson to black in seconds.

Shit, she cursed, unable to keep her body under command as she just squirmed more against that lean thigh and that protruding erection.

“Oh, little vagrant, you’re in trouble, aren’t you?” he hissed in her ear, rubbing that wet, cold tongue up its shell. “I can smell you, just how excited you are to be so close to your quarry. It’s a pity you chose a predator as your prey, darling. You see… you can thank the Cleric for her blood to sate my hunger, but she is rather closed off… or closed-thighed… when it comes to other hungers of mine.”

Fingers released her throat, his nails tearing into the laces of her breaches as she squirmed even harder. Cool, dank dungeon air made every hair on her now-bared mound and thighs stand on end as he tugged them down to her ankles.

“I know you want me, that you’re too proud and stubborn to seek it out for yourself. Allow me, darling, to show you what you’re miss—”

Silencing him, Katja freed one hand, launching it to close around his own scarred and pale throat.

A fang-toothed grin was his only reaction. “Oh, darling…” he rasped from beneath her knuckles. His fingers brushed the skin and curls of her mound and something untamed and hungry unleashed itself from within her. Her grip on his throat tightened, yanking that sneering mouth to hers. She wanted to devour him, to silence him and punish him in the only language he seemed to understand— the language of body and blood.

Jerking her shoulders, she freed her other hand, her nails tearing into the buttons of his own leathers. A growl in his throat, he gripped her ass, lifting her as if she were no more than a child to shove against the wall again. One hand squeezed around her mouth once more, keeping her moan muffled as he finally slotted himself inside her. The rough and ancient brick dug against her armor, padding her flesh from every jolting slap he made against her, his thrusts fast and punishing.

Air hissed through her nostrils, her dark eyes locked into his own, that crimson stare daring to do something. Kill him? Fuck him? Kiss him again? She knew not which. Her body cried out for all of them at once. Never mind the elders or the tribe or her gods.

Heat unlike anything she had known before coiled in her belly, drawn forth by his thick and cool cock inside her. Her teeth grinded into his hand again, drawing blood to coat her tongue. Making him smile. Making his tongue run over his lips, as if he barely bridled his own need to drink.

But her hand kept its place on his gullet, pushing to keep him at a distance once more. Careful not to risk his fangs and sell her soul to be his next meal.

His eyes rolled back and closed, his bone white fangs bared at her, inches from her flesh. Those thrusts grew hard and erratic, his breath whistling in time with hers. Pathetic, she grinned. The sight of him at her mercy burned itself into the back of her eyelids as pleasure burst from inside her, her body shaking as it squeezed him in wave after wave.

One last thrust and he groaned in her face, jaws snapping on air as if he wished it was her neck. Her hand gave one last punitive squeeze of his throat before she released him. Crimson eyes opened halfway, still hazy with lust. A sly snarl twisted his lips as he set her small and muscular frame down.

Disgust roiled in her belly as she ignored the way his cum leaked from inside her. No, she kept her mind on fixing her breeches, a hard task to do as she watched him do the same as he stuffed his half-softened cock inside those form-fitted leathers. Katja tried to swallow the drool that collected in her mouth as she straightened.

His hand ran through his hair, those dangerous lips parting to speak again when shouting sounded from the cells. The bear roared, iron bars clanged as then burst from their hinges and smashed to the ground. Before they could think about what passed between them any longer, monster and monster hunter grabbed their weapons and bolted towards the fray.

Gale turned, launching his magic missiles at the Goblins nearest them. “Oh good, there you both are,” he turned and fired off a few more in the opposite direction. “We thought maybe you had finally killed each other.”

“Something like that,” Astarion replied calmly, despite the smug glare he leveled at Katja. It made her ears burn beet red with hate again. But as she gripped her greataxe and launched into battle, she wasn’t sure if it was hatred more for him or for her own actions.

A few cleaving swings through Goblin flesh, and she knew it was hate for him.

For what he made her feel, for what he made her choose to do, she would hate him forever.

Wine flowed freely, but gods, what Katja would give for a flask of her tribe’s liquor, clear as glass and hotter than the Styx. Or a pint of mead. But neither was within reach. The green glass of her sweet red wine bottle pressed nearly constantly to her mouth. Anything to try to numb the feeling of his cum still dried to her thighs.

He would pay for this. But not tonight. Tonight they celebrated. Many monsters slain; many questions answered, even if those answers only gave rise to more questions. Halsin, the ancient and wise Archdruid loomed over her. More than anyone else. Gods, he could probably eat her in one bite as a bear. Good thing he was a Druid and no monster, she smiled to herself.

She let herself go numb, drinking and listening to the ancient elf talk about this Shadow Curse and the freedom of nature’s gifts… she ignored the way Astarion kept one hand on Shadowheart’s narrow waist, his face pressing into her neck where bite mark scars were beginning to form.

Trying not to gag on her wine, Katja rolled her eyes as they came closer. Halsin’s eyes scanning them all. “I should thank you all for coming to my rescue. It’s nice to be among friends. A wonderful balance to find, if surprising, to see monster and monster hunter as lovers…”

Katja spat her wine out at her feet. “How… the fuck…”

“Forgive me, my wild form tends to lend me heightened senses even in this state, and let’s just say, the nose knows, eh?”

Astarion’s eyes pinned on her, wild and accusatory. “I don’t know…” he started to shirk off the suggestion, even as the Cleric rounded on him.

“Oh, so that’s where you two disappeared to in the camp today.” Her vitriolic scoff hurt more than an arrow would have into Katja’s stomach. Actually she would have preferred the arrow. “No, no makes sense. You always claim to love a challenge, what better place to try to sheathe your little dagger than the one person who hates you.” She narrowed her green eyes at him, “I won’t worry then about keeping you well-fed or strong. Maybe I can find someone who enjoys my devotion to my lady instead of whining about your hunger every day.” The Cleric gave a nice, long, and dramatic sigh, “Well, if that’s over, I’ll be glad to save the spell slots from having to keep myself from being bloodless every day. Thank you, Katja, for doing me that favor.” The sarcasm in her tone lingered long after she strode away, losing herself in the fray of the party.

The glare that Astarion threw Katja shouldn’t have hurt at all, let alone more than the bitchy glares from Shadowheart, but it did. It was a piercing look of malice and disappointment as he strode after her, lies pouring from his thick lips to try to smooth things over.

“I… I’m sorry if that was a secret,” Halsin tilted his head as he watched the drama unfold. “Over three centuries in this realm and I can still be taken out at the knees by surprise.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Katja replied, wiping the stains of red wine from her jerkin. “It was a mistake, nothing more. I may have left with a stain on my conscience, but my soul is intact at least.” She pointed her finger at her neck. “I won’t be bitten, even if I’m fucked.”

Halsin shook his head, laughing. “I forgot how deeply superstitious your people are, little child of the Gur. To think that a vampire’s bite has any effect on your soul,” he smiled gently and chuckled, “you might feel a bit woozy, but by Silvanus’ beard, you won’t lose one bit of your warrior soul.”

Katja’s spine straightened, as if shot once again in the gut. “I’d call you a liar, but you’re a Druid…” she whispered, more fearful for own good.

Halsin’s own scarred face twisted in mirth as he gave a deep belly laugh. “Implying I can’t lie?” He chuckled harder, “a good thing that isn’t the case. But I assure you, a vampire has no interest in your soul. They aren’t fiendish, just hungry and often imprisoned by the whims of their masters.”

Katja tilted her head, considering. Their masters… she turned to scan the crowd for that mop of silver hair or a hint of glaring crimson eyes. If Astarion was a spawn, where was his master? That haze of hatred seemed to part for a moment, a moment of lucidity amid the burning hatred, and Katja realized what a poor hunter she had been. What were his weaknesses and ambitions? What would bait him into the open or control him enough to bring him to heel?

She’d have to get closer to him to discover that. And that thought made her stomach wrap tightly in knots and made her heart set at a galloping pace.

As if summoned by her loping heart, he stepped into her line of sight, browline furrowed, half his fangs bared as he smirked. A single finger crooked in her direction. And Katja made a visible point to check her dagger before crossing towards him. “You seem to be alone,” she smirked, tucking her weapon back home at her hip.

“Thanks to you,” he sneered slightly, the clench of his jaw a slight tell to the rage simmering beneath that cool, alabaster exterior. “You owe me…” he snarled, quiet and pressed from behind his clenched teeth. “Because you, you grub, didn’t have the decency to clean yourself after your little moment of weakness today, I’ve lost my tentmate and meal ticket,” his voice was cold and exacting, a none-too-slight of a threat hidden beneath that refined exterior.

She just tossed her long, blonde braids behind her. “Needless to say, it was your choice today to do that, too,” Katja rolled her shoulders, squaring up for a fight.

“Oh, little brat, always angling for combat,” he suddenly eased, a well-practiced, sultry smile on his handsome face, “it’s bad form to discuss such… personal matters in the open.” He cocked his head, looking down at her seething, defiant glare. “Let’s find a little piece of nowhere, a place to… discuss all this madness like two mature creatures.” His crimson eyes shimmered like the shitty wine in her near-empty bottle. Extending a cold, pale hand at her, he drew close, invading her space. “Truce?”

She just narrowed her eyes, disbelieving the sincerity of such a gesture. Refusing to take his hand in hers. “Where?” she snipped.

His predatory grin widened enough to bare his glinting fangs. “There's a secluded place nearby that will do nicely… far enough away so no one will hear you scream…” his voice scratching into a growl.

“You mean from when you try to kill me?”

Thick lips twisted dangerously as he took a breath. “Death… a little death… it’s all the same, little brat,” his gaze hardened, “isn’t it?”

Katja glared at him, her mouth twisting to hide her confusion, sure there was a hidden meaning in his words she failed to recognize. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” she sassed back at him, confident outwardly…. Only to be discouraged as his grin intensified and as he gripped her hand by force. One yank, and she was pulled against the hard planes of his chest. This time there was no armor to hide the feeling of his skin or to conceal that sharp, clean scent of citrus and herbs.

“Oh, but you do know, better than anyone now,” he growled into her ear before shoving her away again. “There’s a clearing,” he jerked his head to his right, “we can meet there, no weapons, no axes. We can discuss our truce with just the clothes on our backs, what do you say?”

Katja just stared at him, fuming and stoic.

“Or are you too cowardly to meet a monster alone?”

“See you there, asshole,” Katja snarled before turning away, wine bottle raised high above her little blonde head to drink. Draining the dregs of that disgusting vintage, she smashed it against a tree before entering the dark, moonlit forest.

[violetsiren90]

Under the Hunter's Moon

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; young love; autumn/harvest vibes, pure unadulterated fluff

Summary: A disappointment turns into something unexpected when Yoongi encounters you outside of your cliffside haven.

Content warnings: PG rating, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; depictions of underage smoking; allusions to divorce; school bullying; Yoongi being a scaredy cat on rides lol; mentions of eating and food; allusions to a difficult home life; cuties at a carnival 💕; brief feelings of panic; riding in the back if a truck sans safety restraints.

Word Count: ~3200

Author's note: I spent my birthday today at a little pumpkin patch by the sea. I'd been wanting to go since getting the idea for this drabble a few months back. I felt like I got to ring in the next year with them, somehow. I felt them in the salty breeze and I heard them on the crash of the waves. They are so precious to me. ❤️

If no one has told you yet today you are loved and so worthy of it! 🧜‍♀️💜

He had found you sniffling under a sprawling valley oak that had tilted its way over the aged planks and posts of the two-rail fence and stretched out toward the naked expanse of the strawberry field and the last fiery rays of the late-October sun. He and Hoseok had broken away from the pack of boys he hung around with to find a quiet nook for a smoke. When he had seen you look up at him in surprise from where your face had been buried in your drawn-up knees, nose red and cheeks stained with tears, he had shoved a cigarette into Hobi's shirt pocket and sent the freshman packing. Now Yoongi was sitting next to you in silence, his back to the trunk, stealing furtive glances at you between drags. You heaved a sigh and leaned back against the tree, your shoulder brushing his. 

"I'm okay," you murmured, drawing the back of your hand a last time over your eyes, mascara that you rarely wore smudging across your knuckles.

"Yeah?" he asked, his gaze trained over the mulched land that stretched from the tips of his Converse to where the dying light strained out to bathe his soft, porcelain features in a golden sheen. "You here with somebody?"

"I...was...I guess," you muttered despondently. "Don't really know why I ever let myself believe they would want to hang out with me. Should have just stayed home like last year."

You kept your gaze from his, your eyes instead catching the movement of his slender, athletic legs stretching out in front of him and kicking up little clouds of silt that caught here and there as they dissipated over his light-wash skinny jeans.

"What are you doing here, anyway? You hate crowds."

You felt his shoulder shrug against yours.

"It's the Fest," he remarked, "Everybody goes."

Every year on the Friday before Halloween, your high school loaded its coastal-dwelling autumnally-deprived students onto busses for a forty-five minute drive inland and into agricultural territory to attend the massive Fall Fest for which its hosting county was acclaimed. It was the highlight of the semester - more anticipated than the winter formal - and for good reason. Tickets purchased upon entry (and sold in homeroom two weeks in advance) could be traded for carnival rides and games and seasonal attractions, while a little cash could afford attendees delicious treats and festive souvenirs.

You had never really seen what all the fuss was about. But, then again, events of such a nature were infinitely more enjoyable when one had someone with which to share them - a novelty you had never been afforded until a week ago, when Miranda Dallet and another girl from her posse had asked you to sit with them at lunch. When they asked you to attend the Fest with them you had been surprised, a feeling which had given way to one much less pleasantly anticipatory when Miranda had begun asking you about your newly-divorced father's house - the one just a few miles into town from the Fest grounds, and the one he had apparently told Jacqueline Peters' mother had a hot tub and a 50-inch flat screen TV.

When your father had agreed to let the lot of you stay over at his after the big bash, the reaction of your new acquaintances had you feeling the tiniest bit proud, even if you knew you were being used...you had never really had girlfriends before. Their squeals of excitement and insistent vows that you were the best had lit a little candle in your heart you hadn't even realized existed. Its flame had grown brighter over the days that followed as you planned outfits and borrowed lip gloss and let the others style your hair. And then, half an hour ago, it had been snuffed out when your father had called to cancel last minute, and the news had seen Miranda call you a liar and a poser, thereby revoking her friendship, her crew, and the white puffer jacket she had insisted you borrow, to leave you crushed and alone beside a candy-apple cart.

Your heart sank at the prospect of recounting your pathetic tale to Yoongi...but, he never asked. He merely finished his cigarette, tossing the butt into the upturned soil, and then standing and brushing off his jeans, shoved one hand in the pocket of his bomber jacket and extended the other down to you. You took it and let him pull you to your feet. As you swiped away the smudges your tears had made of the supposedly waterproof eye makeup, you felt Yoongi's gaze drift over you. You blinked up at him questioningly.

"You look...different," he offered, shoving his other hand into its corresponding jacket pocket.

You wrapped your arms self-consciously around the bare inches of your midriff. A trip to the local mall with Miranda and company after school the previous day had resulted in the purchase of your current attire: a light-pink spaghetti-strap tank that hugged your torso, ruched sides pulling it well above the studded waistband of your snugly fitting lowrider jeans, accompanied by a pair of hoop earrings larger than you had ever worn and which were nearly as shiny as your lip gloss. Temperatures remaining in the low seventies well into the late days of fall allowed teenage girls across your county to continue their relentless pursuit of getting dress-coded in the name of Brittany Spears. At events like these, however, the chaperoning staff were wise enough to let it be, as such efforts would likely result in wasted funds and totally empty busses. You had decided to take the plunge and wear something rather decidedly out of character.

"Well," you huffed, "I couldn't come the way I usually dress..."

Yoongi's brow creased.

"What's wrong with how you dress?"

"Ah...I don't know...I just wanted to look nice, I guess."

He nodded, eyes on his shoes.

"Do I look...bad?" You asked quietly, smoothing your hands down over the denim of your pants.

Yoongi looked a bit surprised when his eyes flicked up to yours again, and then they softened as he answered.

"No...no, of course not."

You smiled gratefully and his dark eyes went wide like a baby's as he tilted his head down, glancing about as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and raised a hand to scratch behind his ear. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought he looked a bit shy. Was he shy? Something inside you preened a bit at the thought. Your bashfulness having dissipated, you moved your hands to clasp behind your back. Yoongi cocked a brow, a little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stripped of his jacket and held it out to you.

"Looks a little cold though," he remarked, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

"I'm fine, thank you," you huffed, feeling a bit caught, and crossed your arms in indignation.

He shrugged, still smirking, and tossed the jacket over his shoulder.

"Suit yourself," he remarked, "But it's gonna be a lot chillier when it's dark."

"I'm leaving anyway," you sulked, trudging toward the low fence and clambering over it.

"Why?" Yoongi asked quickly as he followed, nimbly vaulting the wooden structure and coming to land beside you.

"Because I got ditched. I'm not gonna wander around here alone like a loser."

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and watched him physically swallow the joke that had formulated on his tongue about it being too late for you in that regard. Instead he reached up and poked you on the cheek.

"So don't go alone. Come with me."

You blinked at him. You had never once hung out with him outside the ledge. There had been the occasional brief wave of a hand across a parking lot or small affectionate smile when passing in a hall, but never so much as a word between you when at school. It had been an unspoken mutual agreement, keeping the worlds of your lives and the ledge separate. It kept your shared hiding place a haven from the rest of it all - one that you both desperately needed. So, his proposition caught you off guard and feeling a little uncertain. Yoongi must have realized your quandary, because he draped his jacket gently around your shoulders and gave you that little hopeful raise of his brows you'd have moved mountains for, and before you knew it, he was ambling alongside you as you trotted towards the lights and laughter of the rides.

It was strange and new, being with him like this, and you began to realize that even though you could read his face like the pages of a book and stood gatekeeper to many of the secrets of his gentle, burning heart, you'd never seen the sweet little smile that cotton candy caused to bloom on his lips, or how quickly it could vanish at the prospect of riding the slingshot. This being so, you couldn't help but take him in like some lovely unknown creature as you sat beside him on the Ferriss wheel and watched him glance nervously toward the ground growing further and further below.

"You okay?" you asked in amusement, glancing at his whitened knuckles where they clutched the safety bar across his lap.

He hummed in assent, now peering down over the tips of his shoes. You followed his gaze, leaning forward and consequently causing the little bucket seat to rock as it climbed toward the peak of the structure.

"Yah, yah, yah, yah!" Yoongi hollered, eyes wide as saucers as he yanked you back upright and only succeeded in rocking your seat more violently.

You didn't understand what he said next - he had slipped into Korean - but you were laughing too hard at his terrified and exasperated expression and how he clutched your arm to pay any mind to what he had to say.

The Ferris wheel proved to be the sole ride of the evening, as Yoongi flatly refused to endure another, and you made your way into the stretch of grounds that smelled like cinnamon and grilled meats and sounded with booth attendants enticing festivalgoers to try a hand at winning their wares. You stopped to toss a few coins onto dishes, coming infuriatingly close with your third penny to winning a giant Pikachu plushie.

You then proceeded to toss and toss until you had nearly exhausted your change purse without luck - only pausing when Yoongi appeared at your elbow with a two corndogs, slipping one into your hand. You protested at him spending his money on food you knew, though simple, could not have been cheap. He ignored your indignation, however, leading you back into the bustle and sermonizing over the rigged nature of the coin-toss game.

You looked down with a small plaintive smile at the paper boat encasing the deep-fried fare in your hands. Yoongi, though sharp and driven, wasn't a good student. He had a reputation for slacking off on assignments and cutting classes that won no favors with teachers who would never know that he had been working two jobs under the table since he was thirteen. That without his help his family would likely lose their home. That he had bought his mother nearly every single earthly possession she had. That the dinner you were holding meant a hell of a lot more than just a few bucks for some carnival food.

He was still chatting on in an endearing, self-satisfied drone, eyes half-lidded and head tilted back pedantically, when you suddenly slipped your arm under his, squeezing his bicep affectionately.

"What?" he looked down at you, interrupting his own stream of thought.

You shook your head as you took a bite of your corndog and grinned up at him through full cheeks. He let out a chuckle, taking a bite of his own.

"Were you listening to anything I said?" he grumbled in lighthearted accusation over his own mouthful. 

"Of course not," you hummed, bumping his hip, and causing him to stumble beside you.

He grunted, the corner of his mouth pulling up just ever so slightly. 

"Fright walk!" you crooned, pointing at a structure decked out in campy cobwebs with a lopsided grim reaper standing wobbly attendance at the door.

"Nope," Yoongi shook his head, tugging you suddenly in the opposite direction.

"Chicken!" You whined.

"Korean. Fried." He deadpanned with a straight-lipped smile and you nearly choked on the last of your corndog as you snorted with laughter.

Yoongi grinned down at you. There it was on your pretty lips again, that smile that lit up his world like a beacon in the night. If someone had asked him if it was more important for the sun to rise in the east each day or for that smile to reach your eyes, he would have plunged the very earth into darkness every time, deny it as he might.

"Come on," Yoongi murmured.

Weaving through the booths, stray leaves crunching underfoot, he led you to a long line of festival goers queuing up to pile into the beds of big trucks loaded down snuggly with bales of hay.

You had only been in line a few minutes when you heard their voices behind you. You recognized Miranda's snicker and your stomach twisted into a knot. The brisk breeze suddenly tripping over you from behind carried with it their mirthless laughter, and you froze in place as your body and mind waged a war of priority over delaying your tears and moving your feet.

A victor was never decided.

Your swimming eyes blinked and saw him, his little smile and soft, determined eyes, as he moved in front of you, pulling up the collar of his jacket on either side of your face. He held it there, steady hands, the fabric brushing your hot ears as his eyes locked yours and silently told you to breathe, wordlessly promised it would all be alright. The sights and sounds of the festival faded and all you could hear was the soothing, rhythmic crash of the sea.

"Want to get out of here?" Yoongi asked lowly, after a long moment, gaze still holding your own.

You nodded and he took your hand.

Yoongi borrowed your cell phone to make a call and walked with you down the dirt road that opened into a rural highway from the mouth of the festival grounds. As you walked you told him about the girls. About your father's broken promise. About the not being needed, and not so not being wanted. He let you pour out and sift through your anger and hurt in the company of his gentle and receptive silence.

Half a mile's trek brought you to a tiny gas station, its aged, yellowing sign flickering to life as the sun finally yielded the dim glow of its last strains to the darkness beyond the strawberry fields.

Yoongi bought two cans of cola from a buzzing old vending machine, handing one to you as he sat beside you on the iron bench chained to the side of the building. The stars began to peep out and speckle the sky as the full moon tipped over the eastern horizon to find you, much to its surprise, quite far from your little ledge, though still side by side. It watched you curiously until its flaxen beams were joined by a pair of bobbing headlights as a truck rumbled up off the road.

"Thanks, hyung," Yoongi clapped the driver, a handsome older boy who glanced between the two of you with a sly smile, on the shoulder before gripping the edge of the bed and bracing a foot against the tire to hop into the back of the truck. He turned and held a hand out for you.

"We're riding back there?" You asked skeptically, glancing over the dusty plastic ridges of the bed.

"We never got that hayride," Yoongi said with a shrug, and your heart squeezed in your chest as you grabbed his hand and let him pull you in.

You scootched against the back of the cab, pulling your knees up to your chest. The warmth was quickly dispelling in the darkness, and cool air whipping around your body as it dipped through the bed made you shiver. Your eyes flicked to Yoongi's bare arms.

"Here, thanks for the loan..." you murmured, shrugging the jacket off and holding it toward him.

Before he could refuse to take it, your ride jostled on the unpaved road, tossing you across his lap. His arms caught you, and after a moment's hesitation, pulled you to his chest and over his right leg, fanning the jacket out over your bodies. Your back to his chest and his arms around your waist, he held you, as he had a dozen times before. A dozen times and your heart still fluttered - fluttered and then settled into safety as you settled into him.

An hour or so later, Yoongi reached up to lift you down onto the sidewalk. You didn't notice as your eyes caught his - sweeter and rounder - how his hands lingered a moment too long at your waist. The driver asked if Yoongi wanted a ride back to his place and he declined, thanking him again. The older boy said Yoongi owed him a fishing trip and Yoongi chuckled, waving him off as the truck rolled down the street.

Your house was dark, and Yoongi walked you to the front door, hands stuffed in his pockets. You turned the key in the lock, and then you turned to him.
You took him in as he looked down at you, his pretty, soft features concealing none of his affection. He swallowed, shifting on his feet.

"What?" he asked.

"Thank you," you murmured earnestly.

"For what...?" and he began to scoff gently, but your answer came too quickly and sincerely for him to protest.

"For tonight. For every night," you sighed a little breath full of aching gratitude. "For being my friend."

His lovely dark eyes widened and his lips parted and suddenly you found yourself raising up on your tip toes to press your mouth to his cheek.

You did it before you could stop yourself and you turned before you could look at him, and you slipped into the quiet house, closing the door behind you just a bit too quickly - so that he wouldn't see, so that your eyes wouldn't give you away.

In doing so, you had missed it.

But the yellow hunter's moon gazing fondly down through the dark, wispy clouds had seen.

It had watched you kiss the boy's cheek. It had watched you hurriedly take your leave. And while you sighed wistfully on the other side of the door, it had watched the boy raise his hand to touch his face, walk back down to the street, and quietly lose the battle he had been fighting all night - every night, in fact, since that first on the cliffside. 

It had watched him fall in love with you.

-Fin-

[lunarw0rks]

hey, love your writing!!! i was wondering if you would do a drabble of kyle garrick x y/n where y/n is a member of the 141 and they are trying to keep their relationship a secret, and just kind of fluffy shenanigans sneaking around lol

༘⋆♡⸝⸝💌⊹。°˖➴ secretrelationship!gaz // hcs

A/N: gaz brainrot hours (๑ > ᴗ < ๑) i love him :)

『♡』 masterlist ♡ rules ♡ ask box Warning(s): sfw, slightly suggestive, co-workers to lovers, mild injury mention, fluff, 141!reader, gn!reader // Word Count: 984

SYNOPSIS; trying (sometimes failing) to conceal your less-than-platonic relationship with Sergeant Garrick :3

THE FIRST LOOK;

─── the definition of a meet-cute... or as cute as it can be on an active base. It was impossible to not be drawn to him; the youngest member there, sitting in the corner of the briefing room with Soap talking his ear off. After minutes of shifting awkwardly and finding solace in eye contact with Gaz, the chatty Sergeant finally walked away.

♦ His eyes finally raised from his desk, locking his gaze with yours. Despite his off-putting scowl, his umber eyes glued to you, and only you. At the very least, he knew he would have a good friend, though he was already picturing more.

♦ For a man so collected, he felt his chest tighten. "Sergeant... Garrick, is it?" You sat in the chair beside him, giving a look of warmness and disquiet combined. He remembered that feeling; the overwhelming atmosphere of a crowded compound, the tireless workload, and all the new faces and titles to memorize.

『 "Kyle, unofficially. And you?" 』

ON-DUTY TOGETHER;

─── more of them should've caught on. requesting the same hours for guard duty as an excuse to stand beside each other. the odds were in your favor, for the most part, because most of them thought nothing of it. you two were just... close "co-workers" who never ran out of things to talk about or tease each other over.

♦ "Aren't you supposed to be watching that hill, Sergeant?" You huffed, lowering your binoculars. He was watching the hill — but only when you caught him staring at you. It had only been a few weeks and the endless chatter had turned more into borderline flirting, if not full-on pursuit of the other.

♦ He shook his head, now refusing to give you the satisfaction of catching him again. "I am watching the hill, mate, since you're so concerned." He replied, pressing his lips into a slight pout. The blazing sun engulfed his tan complexion, somehow looking more fetching than ever before.

♦ You couldn't handle walking on eggshells much longer, otherwise you'd begin to think he had a violent distaste for your personality. Perhaps it was sleep-deprivation, or the fact that you had spent so many hours with him, but you finally addressed the elephant in the watch tower;

『 "Hm, is that all I am? Your mate?" 』

LATE NIGHTS;

─── taking into account the unrelenting humorlessness of your profession, lights out became the golden hours between you and gaz. besides, there were fewer prying eyes, therefore less concern about getting caught.

♦ Kyle made a habit of entering your quarters abruptly, usually with a mound of snacks in hand. "It's only nine and you're in bed? Swear you're an eighty-year-old at heart, love." One of your favorite candies had been chucked at your head, shattering any semblance of relaxation you had. By now, you had gotten used to this.

♦ He was the embodiment of a snack dispenser in the disguise of a co-worker. Even worse when you would attempt cutting back on the junk food. Ironic, considering how fit he was — though you could attribute that Gaz hitting the genetic lottery (looks and health-wise, no matter how much food he packed away).

♦ Hours of talking could pass, and you wouldn't notice until you glanced at the digital clock. In your defense, you were getting several hours of gossip out in one sitting. It's not easy to work with the one person you want to talk to, yet, be unable to speak to them until after-hours.

『 "I think Soap's onto us. Keeps starin' at me whenever you're around, trying to make me slip up and mention you." 』

IN TOO DEEP;

─── even after several months of secrecy, of petty arguments, of varying conversations — you had never been so upset at him. Until now, when he knew the risks and proceeded regardless. Entering hostile territory after evac, purely to sweep for innocents once more, and disobeying orders while doing it.

♦ Before Price could get a word in, you were in his face. For the first time, you had stunned your co-workers into silence. "What the hell is wrong with you? Look at yourself, Gaz." You motioned toward the gash on his forehead. Then, your attention turned toward the bullet absorbed by his vest, one that could've been the end of him if the hostile had been more accurate.

♦ "You could've been killed." No matter how hard you tried to contain the tremble in your voice, you couldn't. It was evident, practically palpable to the rest of them.

♦ His self-righteousness would be the death of you. Endearing, but made your heart stop every time. "Just a couple bruises. And this?" He pointed toward the scrapes on his face. "I've gotten worse from you." Kyle gave you a subtle wink, one the others wouldn't have seen.

♦ You collected yourself and turned on your heels, still under the watchful eye of the rest of them. At the sudden realization of how much they had seen, you stepped out of Price's way, "Sir." The captain sighed, giving you a nod to ease your anxieties. He knew something was up, but never had solid proof until now.

♦ And Soap? He barely contained his smirk — shifting his gaze from you to Kyle, who only returned the favor by sneering at the Scot. Had you blown the secret entirely? That was up for debate. But they were certainly suspicious.

♦ After he exited the med bay, now with a few bandages and a bruised ego courtesy of your wrath, you caught up to him. To keep appearances, you walked parallel to him while keeping your eyes ahead.

♦ But this wasn't done. Your boyfriend doesn't just almost die and go without penance. At least... your way of penance ;)

『 "This isn't over, Sergeant. You'll see, tonight." 』

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ divider cred. - cafekitsune

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - January 2023. I am hurting, team. I was one of the few that fully watched the movie and I can say, it hurt so much. You’ll find a lot of fix-it fics making an appearance below and over the next months because I need them. 

here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed by elisela (1/1 | 7K | Teen)

Stiles doesn’t go home right away.

The urge is there—when he answers the phone to Lydia’s shaking voice, when he gets the text from his dad, when he stares out at the sun glowing soft peach and golden over the buildings in D.C. and he thinks about Derek never seeing another sunrise. It’s there weeks later when he gets a check from the Estate of Derek Hale, when he crumples it up and throws it in the trash, when he fishes it out an hour later and tries to salvage it by weighing it down with a book from the Hale vault.

It’s there, it’s there, it’s there.

Stiles doesn’t listen to it.

Because Stiles isn’t going back to Beacon Hills to say goodbye.

A Big Surprise by novemberhush (1/1 | 1K | General)

If you go down to the woods today you’re sure of a big surprise...

Scott and Malia McCall’s youngest daughter is having a Teddy Bears’ Picnic-themed birthday party, but that’s not all the pack will have to celebrate today because Stiles and Derek have some exciting news to share with everyone.

A Divine Move by alikatastic (1/1 | 2K | Not rated)

After Derek died, Peter was the one to let Stiles know. Stiles rushed to Beacon Hills to attend Derek's funeral and take care of Eli. When Peter takes Stiles to the Nemeton to show Stiles what happened, they make a discovery. Derek was trapped in the nemeton. All they had to do was pull him out.

Is That a Gun In Your Pocket Or...That's a Gun In Your Pocket by Elpie (Horribibble) (2/2 | 8K | Explicit)

Derek Hale is the best boyfriend. He's sweet. He's funny. He recites Pablo Neruda completely unprovoked. He also happens to be in the murder business. But hey, nobody's perfect.

-

A romantic comedy with guns and roses. (Well, maybe not the roses.)

Last Lovesong of a Dying Lemon by wldnst | podfict by knight_tracer (1/1 | 10K | Mature)

Stiles' Jeep keeps breaking down. Derek is a mechanic.

Safe by Hedwig221b (1/1 | 976 | Not rated)

“Where is he?” Stiles rumbled, glancing at each member of the pack in front of him, before settling his incinerating gaze on one person he once considered a brother. “Tell me, Scott, where is my husband?”

Best Laid Plans by justonemoremiracle (1/1 | 2K | Teen)

As it turned out, spending months away from Beacon Hills —and thus, the pack— had completely screwed up his ability to come up with good, sensible plans. “… You’re asking me to be your fake boyfriend.” As a sidenote, Stiles had to give it to Derek. His ability to sound completely unimpressed, even over the phone, was stellar.

Cold as Ice by Gia279 | podfict by misswhimsy (1/1 | 10K | Teen)

A man stood in front of Derek, three feet away. He had blood on his mouth, throat, and left arm. He blinked at Derek but he looked more dazed than afraid. He grinned, baring bloodied teeth, held up two fingers, and rasped, “Hey,” in a voice that sounded like it hadn’t been used in weeks, before collapsing straight down in a dead faint.

Solitary Animals by Mollyamory (Molly) (1/1 | 13K | Teen)

In which the Alpha pack wants to take something important away from the Hale pack, and there's only one sure way to keep Stiles safe. Negotiations of a personal nature ensue.

Teen Wolf Movie: Post Credits Scene by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere (1/1 | 1K | General)

No post credits scene at the end of the Teen Wolf movie, you say? Maybe you just missed it...

princecharmingwinks special mention (The first fic that helped me breathe again after watching it. I didn’t really realise how long I was holding my breath until I read this <3)

like lightning to the abyss by evcndiaz (1/1 | 3K | Mature)

All that to say, he's asleep when he feels it. Asleep with his head pressed against his dining room table, drooling onto a stack of bills when the world (his world) suddenly falls out of orbit. It's different this time, though. Whatever fine-tuned sense he's got locked into Derek Hale doesn't just stumble this time, doesn't just hiccup like he's in pain. It goes quiet, there one minute, snuffed out the next.

Permanent.

Final.

Stiles is out the door before his phone even rings.

Or; Stiles brings Derek back to life. Because of course he does

Thank you Sterek fandom family, you are all helping me through this. Soon we will be able to consider the movie a distant memory that was just a bad dream. Until then, let’s stick together hey? Big hugs everyone!

[lya-dustin]

Overcome with longing for a girl

Aka the (implied)gay sex fixes everything rhaenicent fic for the @hotd-bigbang

Gif by @lilap20

She is drunk and burning with desire and desperate for a taste of what Daemon had denied her.

She shouldn’t be here; she should’ve gone to her room and hoped a cold bath would assuage the fire threatening to burn her from the inside out. But she didn’t, the moment Harwin escorted her into the tunnel she had left through, she leaves her room still dressed in her boy’s clothes.

“Is something wrong. Rhaenyra?” Alicent is half asleep as she opens her door and tugs her robe as closed as she can. Rhaenyra knows the sort of things she wears under them, the more mature and womanly clothes a wife wears for her husband and not the simple girlish things from before.

Rhaenyra knows they are meant for her father, but she cannot help but like how they look on her.

“Yes.” Rhaenyra’s words are punctuated by something she has been dying to more than anything else in her life.

Alicent’s lips are sweeter than anything Daemon could offer her. She loved her uncle and desired him, but she would always desire Alicent more. Alicent sputters when they pull apart, and yet doesn’t turn her away as she feared she would. Instead her former friend tentatively brushed her lips against hers and kissed her back.

They are both naked and disheveled in her mother’s bed much later, it was glorious even if neither knew much of the act and learned as they blamed it on the wine and Rhaenyra’s dragon blood.

“He abandoned me in the brothel, Ser Harwin helped me find my way back home. I just couldn’t stop thinking how you would’ve never done that to me.” Rhaenyra admits as they hold on to each other in a way so similar and yet so different than before.

“I never wanted to marry your father or have his babies, my father said I must serve his house or…” her voice drifts off as she swallows away the fear she had of her father.

“I’m sorry for calling you a whore that day, I was hurt and refused to see it wasn’t your doing.” Rhaenyra apologized for her words the day she was made to bear witness her father taking another person she loved from her.

She brushed away the chestnut red curls from her lover and stepmother’s face that glows in ways she’d never seen. Rhaenyra kissed her softly again for good measure. The princess could kiss her forever if she could.

“I forgive you, I think I would have done the same if I had been in your place.” The queen in her infinite mercy and love forgave her.

They made love until the sun rose and her maids came to erase all evidence that the queen and the princess had become lovers right under the King’s nose.

Otto Hightower is sent packing when his own daughter lies to his face and the king’s about the nature of the relationship between Rhaenyra and Alicent.

“He has this absurd notion that you would put the children to the sword the moment you become queen.” Alicent admits as they pretend the baby in her belly was sired by Rhaenyra and not Viserys. Laenor, Rhaenyra’s now husband, doesn’t mind and even suggested the queen lay claim to the babe they conceived on their dreadful wedding night.

Aegon and Helaena have begun to call their sister mama now and Viserys thinks its because Rhaenyra and Alicent are just very close friends. Not many suspect it is more than just friendship now, if they did no one would believe them. Who would even believe that the Princess and the Queen would sin against their husbands in such a way?

“I would never! As much as I loathe how they came to be, I would not hurt them. If Dorne can have female heirs without resorting to murder, who says we will not have that here?” the princess assured her lover, swearing to never raise a weapon against her half-brothers and sister.

And she doesn’t, House Targaryen enters a golden age of peace where stepmother and stepdaughter are so united even their children call themselves siblings. King Viserys was credited for peace, having had the foresight to wed his daughter’s most cherished friend to prevent discord between them.

They laugh about it in private, with Laena and Daemon who have returned and knew their secret from her letters. Rhaenyra had thanked her uncle for abandoning her at the brothel. That night had led him to Laena and Rhaenyra to Alicent, neither could ever say they regretted the course that night took.

“To think I had thought seeking Criston instead of you that night.” The first Queen Regnant admits as they celebrate her coronation in the king’s, no, the queen’s chambers.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

ur such a good writer i literally love all ur fics ur like a celebrity to me i was just thinking maybe you could write something more about vampire bam with fem reader because I think it’s cute it could be smut if you want but it also doesn’t have to be and it can be all dark and stuff like the m reader one

Eternal Lust

Harboring resentment towards her elite associates in her high level trade, Y/N finds herself in an unlikely romance with an earl who has more than a few skeletons in his closet

Vampire!Bam Margera X Fem!Reader

(Angst, Fluff)

4.2k Words

Warnings: highly suggestive content, drinking, enemies to lovers, stalking, manipulation, scent hint, blood kink, nudity, biting, kissing, toxic relationships

An: thank you so much for this request, and happy Halloween! It’s rather fitting that I post this for the fall season, no? ;D Even though it’s not my most successful series, the whole period piece Victorian vampire!au is definately one of my favorites, and I’m touched you enjoyed it so much! There’s a lot that’s said and even more that goes unsaid in this fic, so keep an eye out for subtext as you read. Anyways, thank you for checking this out, and please keep the requests coming! <3

The space where dark compulsions meet the darkened sky- that’s where you settle in. You felt this evening, not unusual for yourself, a natural compulsion to seek out that same dark side, the forbidden- that is to say, the good stuff. The gala you were forced to attend by your position in the cargo industry was not where you found these things. Stuffy conversation about import taxes and embargos while packed in a ballroom cheek by jowl with decrepit old men wasn’t exactly your idea of a fun night out in London, but here you were- in a gown that clung to your ribs like a cage- a physical manifestation of how you felt. Opulent, gilded chandeliers and marble flooring so clean that you could see yourself in them reflected the buzzing, lively scenery around you, but you couldn’t help yourself from feeling purely dismal. But despite your fantasies, you couldn’t merely ditch this scene and take a waltz down to the east end- you had an impression you needed to make. This gala was being held by one of the titans in your field: Earl Margera, the handsome yet capricious man-child who you really had to suck up to in order to get anywhere. The only issue that came with that was that he was constantly surrounded by a flock of lick-finger supplicants which made it a nightmare to even look in his direction.

Wanting nothing more than a momentary breather away from the prying eyes of the elite, you quietly slipped away to a deserted parlor just off of the main hall- close enough to the action that you could still hear the dull thrum of the party through the walls. Sinking down in a high backed armchair, you scanned the bookshelf lined walls idly until your eyes laid upon something that piqued your interest: a large, ornate decanter filled with high quality whiskey that sparkled amber in the candlelight. Well, you’d always fancied yourself a purveyor of the finer things in life, and stealing an ounce or two or five of the Earl’s fine booze would be a quiet revenge you could exact- a way to justify why you even were here if you resented the man so severely. It would be the same as an enemy of Di Vinci wiping his ass with the Mona Lisa. Sliding out the large, crystal stopper with a pop, you grinned as you forwent a glass. Bringing the rim directly to your lips, you drank straight from the bottle like some street bum. Oh yeah, you were doing it… The delicate, sweet taste of the whiskey consumed your senses, but the satisfaction you felt was only momentary, because just as the burn that felt so good settled in your chest, the sound of leatherbound footsteps made your heart leap into your mouth.

And there, standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the golden light of the ballroom, the devil had come to play- all five feet and six inches of him. Still imposing, however, from the aristocratic manner in which he carried himself, Earl Margera’s every action was that of a predator who had no challenge for prey. Dark curls slightly tousled from whatever misbehavior he was relishing in before he graced you with his presence, he quietly slumped in the seat across from you in the study with that shit eating grin plastered across his face, “You enjoying my whiskey?” All tailored and waistcoated in velvets and silk, there was something about his wolffish arrogance that made you a little bitchy.

Glaring over at him, with his pale complexion and those fucking eyes, you spat, “It’s good. I find it’s best enjoyed straight from the bottle-” Making long, hard eye contact, you stared him down as you took a deep swig.

When he finally spoke up, there was an uncharacteristically calm tone in his voice, “I like your style, but it’s rude to drink a man’s alcohol without asking.” Those icy boy eyes fixated on you the way a hawk would spot a field mouse, you squirmed under your skin under his scrutiny, but that could have very well just have been the velvet of the chair.

One thing led to another and that led to the two of you passing around the whiskey like two urchin children, and aver the course of the evening, you’d gotten to feeling a little empathy for the demon across from you. Still, you felt the bastard oozed entitlement, and that resentment grew more and more apparent the longer you sat there. “You know, I-“ Earl Margera hiccuped, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, “I really hate these fucking parties. It's just this…” he gestured to nothing, squeezing his eyes shut, “this transient shit.”

Cracking a grin at his deceiving bluntness, you took satisfaction in how candid and disheveled he was growing in front of you. In all likelihood, he didn’t even know what that word meant… “Oh, we’re all transient…” Part of you wondered what brought this on from him- why he was here with you instead of mingling with the rest of high society, but I guess that when you own the board, you needn’t play the game. He was just as miserable as you.

“Courtesy of Earl Margera, madame...” The timid postmaster that stood at your door trembled as he handed the heavy box to you with an odd sort of tension held in his every fiber, like he was handing you a bomb that could go off at any moment, which you might as well have been sent given your behavior at that gala last week. You weren't ashamed, but you couldn’t exactly call it pride. Bringing it inside and placing it on your dining table, you carefully pulled the violet silk ribbon that held the package secure and lifted off the lid, examining the contents. You squinted at the artfully penned card stock note that read, “A token for a night of insightful conversation and spirited company.” Underneath the note, nestled in white tissue, was a very expensive looking necklace, no- it was a rosary. A shiver ran down your spine as you examined the expensive thing, sparkling silver affixed with polished garnet and onyx. According to something written on the back of the note, it was once a possession of Anne Boleyn, the irony of it being a necklace not escaping you. Who knew the earl would have such a twisted sense of humor? Running the cold metal through your fingers, you couldn’t help but feel, at the same time, uneasy and intrigued. How could he have acquired this artifact, and why send it to you?

Not wanting to risk damaging the fine jewelry, however suspicious the whole ordeal was, you returned the necklace to its case and stowed it carefully in your armoire before retrieving your shawl from where it was haphazardly tossed on a chair. Given autumn’s creeping grasp upon London, the streets ran with a chill denser than the characteristic fog that never seemed to disappear as you made your way towards the town market, mind still tangled up in the implications of, well- everything. Charming smiles, sharp wit, and frivolous gifts from the earl aside, you had the pressing matter of staving off starvation to deal with. Carriage wheels clattered and people bartered with vendors as you perused the crowded market stalls for fall produce as the thoughts swirling about your mind seemed to fade into much more manageable topics like selecting the best loaves of bread or the freshest squash.

You were so unsuspecting…It really was endearing in a way, how a woman can be so utterly transfixed in mundane little things like tins of tea and looking for a favorite variety of jam, completely unaware of your surroundings. Yes, barely even out of your line of sight- in fact, quite plainly within your vision, the earl stood half under the cover of shadow in an alleyway, studying your every move. Eyes following you from his place standing cloak-clad in that alleyway with the kind of hunger few may know, Earl Margera was practically fantasizing about you at this point. He was barely a breath away, barely an arm’s length away. Close enough that if his inhibitions were a hair lower, he would've given into every dark compulsion he’d kept hidden away for so long and snatch you away from the prying eyes of the townspeople, dragging you into the darkness he so relished. Wrap his arms around your waist and pause for a moment, canines poised to penetrate that tantalizingly thin layer of skin keeping him from getting exactly what he wanted, just to watch the look on your face as realization sunk in- what he was going to do and exactly what he was.

Disappearing back into the shadows, the earl couldn’t help but mull over the way you had struck him that evening you first met. There was something about the fire that burnt just behind your eyes, that distinct spirit you carried with you. But more than that, it was your smell. Unlike the volatile perfumes the women of high society adored, which Bam considered plainly unappetizing, you had a very clean, distinct aroma; It was simple and sensual in a way that struck just the right chords in his mind- this purity unmatched by any of the women he’d fed off of in the past. Your ability to see through the madcarades of the elite aside, which he very much admired despite his social position, he’d been obsessing over that scent as if he were a man possessed. It was the only fantasy that consumed him in those long, lonely evenings in the palace in between feedings. He had to see you again- needed to have you- but he knew a woman of your standing wouldn’t be easy to win over, especially with something as trivial as jewelry. While not unfamiliar with playing the long game, Earl Margera was all too fond of the thrill of the hunt when it came to courting his prey. Patience is a virtue he was well versed in. He would let you feel content under the assurance that you had control over the situation for a little while more, all while the snare was gradually tightening around your neck.

The palace of Earl Margera looked starkly different in the daylight than when it was illuminated by lamplight- the darkness covers up the gritty parts, you noticed. The myriad of shrubbery and meticulously kept flora that made up the front garden had withered in a recent cold snap, leaving branches winding and bare as you trotted up the cobblestone steps. You’d dressed well, while not horrifically extravagant for the occasion, but you hadn’t even knocked at the door before it was answered and you were quickly shuffled inside the front room by one of his male servants, a room which was extravagant as any other given inch of that palace, where the earl had been patiently awaiting your arrival. “Y/N.” He put on his most earnest expression as he bowed in front of you, not giving you the opportunity to remove your glove much less greet him before he peeled it off of your fingers himself with practiced grace before placing a disarmingly gentle kiss to your knuckle while making unshaking eye contact, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

You’re not sure how you managed it, but after you stole his expensive liquor and insulted him, the earl ended up asking you to return once more, this time for discussion of industry over a meal, but as things have it, you talked about everything except the cargo business. Well, besides you fulfilling your curiosity as to how exactly a man like him got into this industry. He inherited his position from his father, something you, and in all honesty, Earl Margera couldn’t give two shits about shipping.

The dinner was an intimate affair with a dining room table laid with enough food to feed the entirety of the east end; platters upon platters of golden roast pork loin and plump game birds ran alongside crisp roast turnips and carrots with fennel, but most impressive dish besides the massive ornamental coffee custard a la Religieuse was the beautiful arrangement of oranges, apples, blackberries, and plums that were surely imported from Spain given they were out of season.

As you were served by one of the handful of men that were neither his servants nor brothers that hung around his palace like flies, you mused, “I’m impressed. When I received your invitation, I was thinking I’d be dining on something closer to soused hog or crimped fish.”

Chuckling deliciously, Earl Margera eyed you from across the table and brought his glass to his lips, taking a swig of wine before he replied, “I have an impression to make, do I not?” An evil little glint sparkled in his eye as he proposed, half joking, “If you’d like, I could send to the butcher for some fresh slink veal.” The nasty thing is, you weren't exactly sure if he was joking about that, because leave it to the earl to appreciate the feeling of soft, underdeveloped lamb’s bone in his teeth, but you laughed anyway.

Delicately handing your silverware, you tried to break the tension a little, “You know, you are not nearly the man I took you for, my earl.”

As much as the preface of ‘my’ before his title made his heart jump, he waved his hand dismissively, “Who needs those formalities? All my close friends call me Bam.” A curious name, yes, and hardly a name fit for an earl, but you did not question it. You had far more pressing matters at hand. Bathed in the soft candlelight, the man across from you looked strangely soft, maybe even human- a far cry from the image he projected to the public. And as you dined and drank, which you ended up doing a great deal of over the course of the night, you could’ve sworn that those men that served you- members of his council, the ones standing along the walls just in the shadows- were shooting knowing, sidelong glances to one another as Bam regaled you on his worldly adventures, seeming to enjoy the sound of his own voice more than anything.

As the evening grew on and the candles grew shorter, something that had been occupying your mind for a while came up in conversation. Swirling your glass of liquor with half lidded eyes, you mumbled, “You know…I've only seen a fraction of this castle of yours. Why don’t you give me a tour?” This opportunity made Bam’s ears perk up. There was an undeniable romance about the palace, especially in the evening, and much like a cobra silently waiting to strike, Earl Margera had been quietly leading you along with this false sense of security. It seemed that this was the perfect moment.

“Of course.” pulling his chair out from the table with surprising grace for a man who had been drinking his weight in fine booze, Bam waved for you to follow him, “This way, if you don’t mind…” Trailing behind him at his heels, you followed him down grand, echoey hallways with moonlight filtering in through tall, arched windows onto the marble flooring. He led you through a large, heavy door marred with age and into a room that looked more like a museum and less like a home. Every wall was lined with some sort of curiosity that the earl was more than eager to flaunt, whether that be a pyxis dating back to the crusades, or a full collection of canopic jars he acquired from a trip to Egypt, not to mention menagerie of taxidermied animals. It seemed that the second you appeared at all disinterested in what he had to say, Bam hurriedly moved on from one artifact to the next.

But on the off moments you were enraptured with a painting or fine textile, you caught him just…watching you. Running your finger contemplatively along the smooth glass dome encasing a skull you couldn’t identify as human or animal, you felt this odd sensation of being loomed over or observed intently the way a hunter would track prized game, especially odd considering the only people in the room were you and the earl. Slightly unnerved, you shook off those feelings against your better judgment and chuckled, “I’m impressed…Really, wet specimens and medieval weapons are just the thing that draws the favor of women.” However, your fesistines and witty comeback were not enough to deter the earl.

“So, you’re a lady with more artistic tastes? Here-“ his voice a mere purr, Bam directed you over to a grand marble statue at one end of the room, “this is a real Bernini- genuine.” Silhouetted by a window on each side letting light flood in, this alabaster figure stood carved with precision, this beautiful angel standing with poise and elegance, frozen in time and marble. In actuality, Bam only knew who sculpted that statue because his money paid for it, and otherwise he couldn’t care less about that thing. Cocking your head to one side, the thought occurred to you that maybe you were wrong about the earl and perhaps he was less surface than you initially thought. Out of the stillness, he asked you, “Do you believe in angels, Y/N?”

It was a simple question, the kind a curious child may ask, but turning to face him, the room felt so eerily quiet as you gazed at his features bathed in the moonlight, looking almost…innocent- sinister, yet perfectly harmless. Mouth growing dry under his gaze, you replied, “I don’t think they walk among us, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Grasping your hand in his, Bam’s voice no longer had that obnoxious, arrogant edge. Instead, there was this soft, sweet quality to his words as he spoke just above a whisper, “Oh, but I think they do…See, for the longest time, I couldn’t remember a single moment where I was satisfied. I felt good drinking and flirting and carousing, but…that was it. And then you came along, and all of a sudden…” his voice trailed off a moment as he pretended to struggle with articulating his feelings, before he eventually spat out, “You’re an angel…My angel, I’m sure of it.” There was something off about this encounter that you couldn’t place as, eyes bleary from alcohol and emotion, Earl Margera brought your hand up to his lips and placed a reverent kiss to your knuckle for the second time that night and asked, more of a command than a request, “Stay with me tonight?”

You felt charmed yet uncomfortable in this moment- how he had been intensely staring at you as if he were looking straight to the core of your soul. This darkness about him; it was heavy, permeating every fiber of this young man who looked ready to be worshiped or sacrificed. With the way his hair looked disheveled and hung in his eyes, you finally saw what all those women saw in him- in that silent study, Earl Margera looks like temptation personified. “Hold me for tonight. Shelter me from this-“ You couldn’t resist. Cutting him off from what en flourishy tangent he was about to launch into, you leaned in to press a kiss to his lips because, in that moment, it just felt so right. However, instead of the tentative, playful response you expected to receive, there was this hunger in the way Bam smothered you in his kiss, like a wolf burying its muzzle into a fresh kill. Deep and primal, he nearly growled against your lips, unable to contain those starving urges that sat just below the surface.

Stumbling, you tumbled backward onto a chaise lounge and Bam landed on top of you. Black painted nails clawing at the bodice of your dress and clumsily tugging it down to bare your chest, he seemingly ignored the newly exposed expanse of skin glimmering in the moonlight for the succulent meat of your neck. You were shocked, but you couldn’t say that you weren't strangely excited and thrilled by this turn of events. Endlessly repulsed and enchanted, you were powerless against his animalistic urges, sucking and laving at the bulge of your carotid artery as if your flesh itself was this divine thing. Passion hung heavy between your ragged bodies, breath coming out in ragged pants, and Bam couldn’t hold himself back for one moment longer. A throbbing, exquisite shockwave of pure white heat rattled through your bones as he let out this satisfied little moan and sunk his jaws into you the way an animal would clamp their jaws onto its prey- purely predatory. Face smeared with crimson, his eyes flicked up to look at you with something a little less than human behind them.

If the woman you were a week ago could see yourself now, waking up naked in the earl’s bed, you’d tell yourself to knee him between the thighs and make a break for it, but there was something so utterly hypnotizing about his visage in that moment. Falling under his spell, the closest thing you could equate it to was love. You loved him like you would love a sick, stray cat that you found on the side of the road covered in blood and vomit. You loved him like a saint loves a sinner. Head swimming, you were unable to fully comprehend what had happened to you as you tried to orient yourself. Eyes fell upon where Bam sat beside you, naked and half covered by the sheets that pooled at his hips, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze from his bare form. Chest pale and slightly sunken, his ribs were more prominent than a young man’s should be, but there was still something beautiful about him with the way his soft skin against sharp edges. Slender, almost as if he was malnourished, your eyes trailed down the faint line of hair peeking above where the linens sat at his hips.

Entranced by his strangely ethereal figure, it took him meeting your eyes for you to notice the dark smears on his cheeks and around his mouth. Still, there was that purity about him at war with his fierceness as he cracked a grin, “My angel…” lying down next to you, the words of a saint fell from the mouth of a harlot as he nuzzled his face against your neck and chest, lazily licking at his leftovers. Bam stared at you, lips covered in dried blood and kiss swollen, but even after all of this, he found a way to feign innocence, looking up at you with these big, sweet deer eyes even after he had done these depraved acts. The earl asked tenderly- vulnerably, “Will you be gentle when you scrub me clean? When you purify me?”

His desire for redemption was merely a front. Simultaneously disgusted and aroused, you swallowed down the gnawing uncertainty as to what exactly he’d done to you that left you so bloodied as you uttered, “You think I can fix you? You’re- you’re beyond any redemption…”

Bam’s grin seemed to widen at your meager resistance as he pulled his lips away from where he nursed at your wound to whisper in your ear, his voice a soft whine with faux offense, “Oh, you are so cruel.” light glinted off of a far too sharp canine as he cooed sweetly, speaking to you the way a lover would, “You have no idea what you do to me…”

Sitting up sharply as the realization of exactly what your circumstances entailed, dead moments gave way for memories of the earlier evening to remain. You would’ve thought your sanity was slipping away with the conclusion you came to. Sharp pain shot through your skull like a railroad spike as you fell back to the plush bed, squeezing your eyes shut to quell the ache as you muttered to yourself, “No- no. It’s not. It can’t…”

Unsure if you should blame the trembling of your limbs on blood loss or the sinking realization of your circumstances, you nearly jumped when you felt Bam’s hand on your shoulder as if he were caressing some delicate object as he purred, “I’ve yearned for someone like you for so much longer than you could ever imagine…” The way he was talking about you was like your presence satiated every ounce of his being. Leaning over you in the darkness, the earl murmured, “I couldn’t imagine spending eternity without you, Y/N…”

Fear and restraint melting away, the line between ecstasy and agony irrevocably blurred as the idea slowly grew in appeal as if you were falling under the control of some spell. Parts of his reasoning began to make sense; this rich, devilishly handsome earl was so readily offering you his undying affection. Who cares about the implications of what he may truly be? You had to ponder- was this destiny? Were these the cards that fate had dealt you, and if so, how were you going to play them? Part of you, a sensible part, still wanted to run, but the very core of you desired nothing more but to lay with him in those very sheets for the rest of time.

[gingersforeverbox]

May I ask for silco and Viktor with a lover who has a glass eye? And maybe it's a bit magical so in tense moments or just for the creep of it, the glass eye will sometimes suddenly move towards something/someone if that makes sense? Thanks!

Howdy my dear, thank you so much for the request and I am so sorry for such a ridiculously late reply! I hope you find this somewhere!

A/N: None that I am aware of! Just some good ol' fluff!

Viktor and Silco (Separately) if they had a partner with a magic glass eye:

Viktor:

Viktor is a curious person at heart, so naturally when y’all first meet, he would wonder why you have such a fascinating eye. However, he would not ask you outright about it until much later into knowing you in fear of being rude. 

After wading the waters of close friendship, he finally yet politely asked what happened to warrant you needing such a beautiful eye (after specifying that both eyes are gorgeous to him, but he already knew about the origins of your organic one).

Regardless of your story, he will listen attentively, offering his hand if you ever feel like you need him throughout the ordeal. He will be nothing but reassuring and insist that if it is too painful a story to tell, don’t worry about telling it. He would much rather live in curiosity than cause you pain from said curiosity.

I'm not gonna lie to you, he will spend hours looking at your eyes if you let him. Yes, even when he should be working, which is saying a lot, and Jayce thanks you for managing to pull Vik away from work for a minute when you come to the lab.

He may not be an artist by trade, but he will always compare your eyes to the most beautiful of things in the world around him. Your eye is blue? The boundless skies that share the same color make him think about how free he feels around you. Brown? He lives on coffee and he is reminded who he lives for with every sip. Gold? He pictures golden halos that would hang from your head to match your spirit and body. Grey? Thunder storms have no might like you when you are passionate about something. No matter what color, he will always find something that reminds him of you when he sees the color around him.

As someone with a disability, he would be understanding that it can be frustrating sometimes and would do what he can to make it easier for you, whether thats having cleaner on hand or at his apartment for you or an ice/ heating pack for when your socket gets irritated. 

When it comes to your eye moving, he would get a little freaked out the first time it happened because he thought something was wrong and you were hurting. As you explained to him the situation, he is more relaxed about it, but he tries to learn situationally when it happens that way he knows what’s going on. For example: If you’re anxious when it happens, he will try to help you relax if he can. 

Now if you do it for humor, he will be a little cautious because he doesnt want you to cause yourself any unnecessary discomfort, however, if someone is being rude to you he is 100% on board with you using it to freak them out.

The bottom line is that he loves you for you, and this includes your beautiful eyes.

Silco:

As a man with an unordinary eye himself, I feel that it goes without saying that he would be the most empathetic of the two due to personal experience. He would also find your prosthetic to be fascinating, magic or not. He would enjoy seeing the details in the iris and would insist on eye contact so he can find these details while talking (but lets face it, its kind of intimidating to have that much eye-contact with the Eye of Zaun).

He has a business to run and a city-state to liberate, so he would not hesitate or beat around the bush to ask about the origins of this magic eye and how it came to be in your possession. He would also determine if your eye’s magic could be used to his advantage. Could it be used for espionage? Was it just a simple prosthetic? How could this play into his favor?

If it were a sadder story, he would quietly sympathize with you, but would not let that be known until he knew he could trust you. If it were a simpler story, he would nod and change the subject likely back to business at hand.

As time crawled on and as you proved your loyalty not only to him but to Zaun, he would open up more to you. After a while of seeing you as a “very close individual” (aka he caught feelings), he would tell you the story behind his own eye. Depending on your reaction, he may tell you about other aspects of his past if it means that he can get closer to you.

He would absolutely pamper you with the best medicine money could buy. If it were an emergency, he would even see Singed for you about getting you help. Nothing is too high a cost for his lovely. I’m not saying he would use this as a way of showing his love and affection for you and as a way to win you over, but yes I am. This man has very few morals left and subtle manipulation is basic affection to him. I do genuinely think he would love you though, he just has an odd way of showing it.

If your eye moved after him thinking it was stationary the entire time would definitely throw him off. Since he happens to wear some emotions on his face rather openly, he would furrow his brow in confusion before continuing the conversation. Towards the end he would question you about it. If its a situation where it only happens when you’re feeling a certine way, he would file that away for later uses, whether thats just looking out for your wellness or as an indicator of mood. If you do it for fun, he would kinda just go “ah,” and leave you to it. If it made you happy then so be it.

This man will absolutely adore your eyes, even if he isn't as romantic about it. He secretly loves that he found someone with something in common with him. He would do anything for Zaun, but most importantly, he would do anything for you.

[mysteriawrites]

hello it is me hi hello

anyway…you already know from the server…

hi, im hannah!, im obviously swedish! my oshis are shu, luca, koto, and kyo…some wosemi too.

I’ve been doing dance for a super long time and i LOVE LOVE LOVE physical touch! (giving and receiving)

uhhh im bad at this

i tend to be a super fast typer so my messages always come out looking like gibberish

uhhh i hate calling but if im calling my bff or my s/o i will never hang up i love it sm!!

uhh, i tend to be pretty extroverted (due to my meds LMAOO) and im described as more of a golden retriever (however, i look like a black cat aporently)

SORRY IF THATS NOT ENOUGH ITS ALL I CAN THINK OF 😭💔💔

Luca Kaneshiro!!!

Congratulations Hannah Chan you got ur oshi! In all seriousness I think you guys would make a good pair.

You’re both sweet and energetic. You care a lot about the people around you and love to make friends. You also both try to hide your own problems and worries from others, but i think since you’re so similar it’ll be easier to notice and break each other out of these habits.

You and Luca met on somewhat unconventional means. It was the boss’s birthday and so he was having a big birthday bash with lots of people invited family, friends, and famous people alike.

You were hired as some of the entertainment. You were a well known and highly respected dancer and only the best of the best was expected at this party.

You had meticulously planned and practiced your performance for weeks until it was flawless. You had been told that this show could be a huge stepping stone in your career.

You arrived at the party in your finest outfit and set the stage for your performance. You were a bit nervous since it was such a large crowd of important people, but as every good performer knows: the show must go on.

Your show enraptured Luca to his very core. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Your moves were so graceful and delicate yet bold and dynamic. He had to know who you were!

Sadly it was hard for him to get the time to see you given all the guests wanting to talk to you. By the time he got away from them your group had already packed up and left.

After the party Luca was on a mission to see you again and tracked down where and when your next show would be. He canceled all his plans and meetings to book a flight to your next location.

Was it an impulsive decision for someone he barely met? Yes. But something inside him was telling him he had to see you again.

You were in your dressing room one night after you last show when suddenly there was a knock at the door. You opened it to receive a delivery of chocolates and flowers with a note that said “Meet me at (insert restaurant here im too lazy)”

Sure you’ve had messages and gifts from creepy stalker fans before and you knew going was a safety risk. However something in your gut told you it was worth checking out.

And so you went. When you got there you were met with a familiar man with golden hair and amethyst hair.

Luca Kaneshiro finally found you.

Fast forward to you guys becoming fast friends and even faster lovers, you and Luca are a very active and energetic couple.

You both like moving and be being active. Him with working out and you with your dancing (which arguably is a workout in an of itself he has mad respect for you he couldn’t imagine moving like that). You guys stretch and go on runs together laughing and having so much fun it doesn’t even feel like working out.

~~and when you’re both sore afterwards you take a warm bath or shower together and give each other massages. Both activities may lead to a lot of touching 👀~~

Despite being busy with his work he always makes time for you as quality time is one of his love languages. He will always clear his schedule to go see your performances and spoil you afterwards because you deserve the fucking world.

He also uses dumb puns and pick up lines on you when you guys go on dates. Dates with you guys are usually a day out having fun and unwinding from your hectic lives. Like going to the amusement park (that he rented out for your whole trip) or going for a walk.

A couple with a lot of puppy energy that only has love to give. (I was gonna put more but this is getting too long)

Runners up: Vantacrow Bringer, Doppio Dropscythe, Yu Q Wilson

[sonxofxgondor]

@ofthevanyar asked: ❛ why did you leave without saying goodbye? ❛

Emotionally Charged Sentence Starters.

Satchel packed with herbal medicines and small savories, the journey for the Fellowship was set to commence. Come the rise of an afternoon sun, all members would be on their way to face the truest of evils, defeat what had been undefeated before. Frodo to bear the burden; Boromir sworn an oath of loyalty and protection. Forever and together were they bound, the Nine, as they were christened. From the lips of elders, the kindest of people that Boromir had come to know. Lord Elrond and his kin - one to be considered more than the rest in the eyes and heart of the Steward-Prince. Never the intention, but most certainly the outcome, Boromir had found himself smitten. Infatuated with every aspect of her person; golden hair, eyes so gorgeous, a smile that could warm the coldest of winter snows. Intelligent just as she was courteous, Amarie did not make him feel weak for the faults he possessed. Stubborn, proud, arrogant, a lover of the battlefield rather than history books. A champion of the physical arts and the craft of boyish play, Amarie held no judgement.

She cared for Boromir. Beyond the titles he carried, beyond the status that was born of himself. She was a gentle friend, a compassionate companion over the course of his stay. Only rarely did he venture far from her side. Always desperate to learn more from her, hear her tales and stories, cheeks colored pink and grin so wide. Boromir had captured the attention of those besides of whom his father wished; whispers in the shadows, followed as he and Amarie explored the gardens, the waterfall and the rocky mountainside. But never did he mind nor find himself distracted. For gray eyes always remained on Amarie - watched her as she went and came, practically shaped themselves to hearts. Sun and moon each taken their stand in the skies, the days spent together were bliss. Happiness not felt before, a bitter end that Boromir knew was sure to come. A final chapter that he did not wish to be so.

He did not want to say goodbye. Such words too painful, so he did not say them at all. Remained silent in his displeasure, hid himself in his room until the moment of leaving dawned. Occupied his attentions by the act of preparing for the trip - ignored all calls, all inquiries into his progress, the gentle tap upon his door and the thereafter fall of bare feet. Soft voice powerful enough as to capture his attention, from satchel bag did he look away, his bed covered with various items and remedies.

Standing still then over top the blanket spread, Boromir looked away, ashamed and embarrassed. Kicked at the dust balls on the floor, watched as they tumbled away from the toe of his boot. He had not left yet, but as Amarie had asked, he was about to. About to; Boromir's heart breaking within his chest.

"Nothing I could say would be a good enough answer, Amarie. None of my words would be able to heal the hurt I have caused you, nor save me from the guilt of my actions. I... I have chosen to act as a child rather than a man. I have been a fool in my frustration concerning the journey I am about to partake."

Boromir sighed, the sound more akin to a cry, chipped at its edges. "Oh, Amarie, can you ever forgive me? Truly, I didn't mean to hurt you. I would never wish to hurt you. It's just that... saying goodbye to you would ruin me. Before I arrived in Rivendell, I assumed that my task would be an easy one. I would go along with the journey of the Ring, no matter where it would have taken me. I would do as was asked of me and complete my quest. Only, I did not think that I would find true happiness here. I did not think that leaving would be so difficult. Amarie... it is folly."

"I cannot find it in my heart to say goodbye to you, because I don't wish to say goodbye at all. You may think me an idiot, but what I tell you now is true. Amarie, beautiful Amarie... I have fallen in love with you. You have possessed all of my thoughts, my days and my nights. You have overtaken all my desires. You have stolen my heart - left me hoping that you would tend to it and keep it forever. Our kind could not be more different, your Elf to my Man, but it does not matter, not to me. You have bewitched me. I adore you. I live for you - I would die for you all the same. I love you. I love you, and I hate to leave you, but I know I must. But it hurts so to do it."

A lonely tear fallen from eye downward to cheek, Boromir glanced to the mess upon his bed, attempted composure, for he would lose it all should he have looked to Amarie. "I would understand if you wish to see no more of me. Besides my cowardice, I have ladened you with so much. I only want to thank you for having come to see me at all now. It... you have meant the world to me, Amarie."

[oumaheroes]

Let’s Break The Ice

Day 18 of Whumptober

‘Just get it over with’/ Treading Water/ ‘Take my coat’

Characters: England, Canada

Day 17

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Matthew found out he would be moving when the carriages rolled up to take him, shiny new paint wrought with gold leaf on the edges, curling around the emblems of France and, more quietly in the loud character of the decoration, of France himself- lilies and cockerels and twisty stems to show longevity, curled around a jewelled golden goblet.

Usually, these carriages meant that his Papa had arrived, an event which in itself offered no real comfort or sadness. It was, simply was- a break in the routine of Matthew’s day that carried with it sweets, new clothes or toys, and news of the world around him, alongside a new hobby his Papa would desire him to pursue if his previous one was no longer so fashionable.

But that morning was not his Papa. That morning it was for him, sombre servants entering his halls and telling him in quiet tones that he needed to pack, to gather himself, for he was to be sent to the English.

To the English himself.

A letter, Papa’s swirl of language dancing across the page in elegant strokes, informing him of why- a war lost (this Matthew knew. He’d felt it, felt the strangers breach his shores and blend and merge with his population. Felt boots upon his cobbles, hands around necks and chest and resources where they should not be until- until. Until they didn’t feel quite so ‘other’ anymore) and a prize to be transferred to the victor. It was in his best interest, the letter said, to be the good boy Papa knew him to be and to agree politely to the request. Maybe this would not be for long, perhaps Papa could win him back. Perhaps he could see this as an opportunity?

Matthew, through a seeping numbness born of fear and grief, could not bring himself to hope so. The fact that Papa was not here to say all of this himself, to hug him goodbye or cling to him in dramatics, stung as much as the truth that this lack implied. There was an undercurrent of meaning here, something that Matthew felt more than quite yet understood, and as he was herded about his country house and gathering his belongings- smoke fires in the distance and cries in the night- he could only think about where he was going.

The carriage ride was not long. Only a week’s travel moving everyday to get to Quebec City, where he was finally brought to the docks to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

After a while, Matthew had begun to hope that he wasn’t actually waiting at all. That perhaps he had been forgotten in the mess of the world, or that he would be ruled from afar.

Till, one day:

‘He’s in here.’

A knock upon the door. Strange men coming to take him, rough language, rough hands about his arms to bundle him back into a carriage. We’re looking for a boy, a description he fit perfectly. Dragged to the river where a boat was arriving, made to stand in the late winter snow to greet a man his Papa had described as all manner of things- a monster, a bastard, a cunt. A thief and a rouge, a thorn in his side for thousands of years and stuck there as history unfolded around them. His friend, his lover- Papa drunk on wine and weeping regrets into Matthew’s shoulder before shooing him away as sobriety returned.

Empire wore boots of dark leather, a coat of red. Rings about his ears and fingers, hooped into chains to hang from his throat and won in seas warmer than Matthew could imagine. He was a man as like any other, someone tangible and real who Matthew had seen in snatches across rooms and through the gaps of doors in Versailles but felt more, felt greater. Millions of souls made him now, countless cultures and lives weighing down upon his shoulders like a cloak to craft and shape him into being. More than Matthew felt himself, more than Matthew had experience before. He had felt Papa and now felt the lack of him, his loss of Matthew, carried by this stranger, more more more.

This devil stepped again now onto his shores with a ripple of change and Matthew shivered to feel it, the earth shifting and recoiling and swarming in ways that only he and perhaps this Empire could feel.

‘Hello.’

The man stood before him, hard sounds in his mouth. He crouched at Matthew’s silence.

‘Can you speak English?’

Matthew shook his head, ‘Little.’

‘Ah. I see,’ the language switched to French, a odd northern dialect that Papa never used, ‘That’s alright. You’ll learn.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise.’

Yet. Matthew added that there himself, a warning to heed added to a list he knew would grow if he wanted to survive this.

‘Lord, how long have you been out here?’

A roughened hand upon his arm, heavily rubbing at it. Matthew forced himself still.

‘Here, take my coat. I told them to find you, not freeze you for Christ’s sake.’

Warmth wrapped around Matthew’s shoulders, smells from the sea and smoke too. He fingered the edges, fine stitching and well done seams. A heavy hand rested upon his shoulder and squeezed it, ‘Do you like pies? I’m afraid that’s all we’ll have quick to hand.’

‘Yes.’ He didn’t.

‘That’s “yes” in English. Come on,’ a pat, gentler, kind, ‘let’s go inside.’

Day 19

Full Masterlist

[sukirichi]

[ BROKEN RECORDS : 007. ]

→ heartbroken after breaking up with his ex, suna rintaro hits up an old flame to ease the pain. or at least using you to get someone off his mind was what he intended, until suna realizes that maybe, you were the real one he truly wanted to forget.

cw. explicit smut; minors dni. exhibitionism. oral (f receiving). undertones of angst. toxic characters. toxic relationships. cursing. explicit dirty talk. drama. fluff.

notes. reblogs / feedbacks / comments are appreciated <33

series masterlist

[ playing track 007.  ] → you don’t have to say you love me, you don’t have to say nothing, you don’t have to say you’re mine — just let me adore you.

[ THREE YEARS AGO ; SENIOR YEAR ]

“We’ve been together for two years now,” Suna announced, his nose nudging the crook of your neck. You slumped over your essays long past due, torn between wanting to divulge in the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms or push him off as he was too distracting. Maybe moving in together with him hadn’t been the best idea. “I didn’t want to surprise you with anything because you might not like it, so do you have anything you want to do in mind? Out of town trips...or let’s book a love hotel?”

“What’s the need for that? We can fuck right here.”

“It’s our anniversary. It’s special.”

Suna’s head bobbed on your shoulder, lazy eyes skimming over the words flying on your screen. Fingers lifting from the keys, you twisted your head to look him in the eye, a small smile on your face as an idea popped in your head. “Hmm...then resorts, I guess? I’d love to go to the beach before we take our finals again,” you suggested, eyes wide with a snap of your fingers. “We can even invite the whole group!”

Suna didn’t look impressed.

“You want Atsumu to come to our anniversary celebration?”

Fighting back the stretch of your lips, you connected your forehead with his, hands on either side of his face. “Sunarin, you take this too seriously. Atsumu and I are just friends; he respects our relationship, you know. He’s stopped talking to me that way as soon as he found out we were dating,” you reminded him, one side of your shoulder lifting before you tore your gaze away. “It’d just be a nice trip with everyone else. I’ve never...gone out with large groups of friends, so I’d at least like to experience it before graduation.”

“Fine, but I doubt the guys are willing to pay that much for a resort.”

“Who said anybody had to pay?” you beamed, “It’s my treat, lover.”

So began your weekend escapade with Suna’s friends and their girlfriends in tow. Everyone had taken the opportunity in the free trip, bringing in packed suitcases and alcohol secretly stashed between the clothes. You didn’t understand at first why they had to bring them. They could easily order for drinks on the hotel bar and put it on the tab, but as the rest of the boys dragged you into a secluded area far from the beach occupied by the resort, the spot much closer to a tall grove of trees, the pieces fit together.

“Lover, where are you going?”

“To go sit closer to the bonfire, where else? I want my marshmallows toasted, Rin. These s’mores better be good,” you snickered at him, inching further to the fire where Atsumu was sulking. He hid half of his face from the sleeves of his jacket, golden eyes watching your every moment. The poor guy still hadn’t gotten over you, but he’d kept his distance like a good friend. Not that Suna cared for soon he was tugging at your shirt until you were forced to sit back down on his lap.

“Suna.”

“No,” he bit back with the same sassiness, and the two of you shared a mini glaring content before you surrendered. Sighing, you let go of the stick with the marshmallows, passing it onto a hungrier Gin who’d been eyeing them for a while. For now, you had a big baby to take care of.

Suna’s chin planted over your shoulders until he was practically breathing down your shirt, the man not the least bit shameful from his eyes traveling downwards. He wolf-whistled at what he saw, and you felt him smirk over your skin. Soon, calloused hands from years of playing volleyball trailed under your shirt, snapping the undersides of your bra before his lips were sucking loudly on your neck, causing you to squirm on his hardening cock.

“Stop that!” you scolded him under your breath, cautious eyes flittering from the crowd to check if anyone saw. Thankfully, they had all eyes on Aran, though Atsumu wasn’t too quick in hiding his flushed face by the time you caught him. “Aran is telling a horror story!”

Suna’s chuckles vibrated through his chest. He pulled you closer, gripping your forearms to pull you down on his lap, to which you felt the blatant hardness poking through your thin shorts. You gasped, ready to push him away when Suna planted you stiff on the spot. The bastard dared to tug at your shorts, pulling them to the side before his fingers caught wind of the growing slickness. “Look at you, acting all shy,” he teased, then picked up his voice – catching the attention of half of the people in the crowd, using the audience to his advantage. “I’m scareedd. I need my lovely girlfriend to come here so I feel safer.”

“What are you, a baby?”

You wondered if anyone could detect the breathiness in your voice. Suna was really pushing it by snaking one arm behind your waist, the muted sounds of a zipper opening heard through the crackles of the fire and Aran's ominous storytelling. Your heart picked up its pace and sweat lined your palms, hands sliding down Suna’s knees. Fear drummed into your system, but for an entirely different reason.

“Yeah, I’m your baby.”

“Could you both fucking stop?” Osamu snapped, silencing everyone in the circle including a flabbergasted Aran and blushing Atsumu. “Atsumu here won’t stop sulking and guess who has to listen to him crying when we go back to our rooms tonight? Yeah, not you, ‘cuz you two lovebirds are too busy fucking.”

“‘Samu!”

“I hate PDA!”

The twins went back and forth like that, shouting at one another until Gin had to pull them away. Osamu ended up with a slight scratch on his cheek, while Atsumu was completely thrown off the log they were sitting at, the blond rubbing at his sore bum all the while glaring at his brother. Suna, though? He was too busy cackling, teeth sunken on your shoulder to muffle the sounds. And to play along, you feigned innocence.

“I told you to keep your hands to yourself, mister,” you flicked his arms away, eyes narrowed at his suspicious forlorn pout. “You’ll have your way with me later when we’re alone. Now, behave.”

“Fuck,” Suna bit his lip, “You’re so sexy when you’re dominating me, you know?”

“Just shut up and listen to the story. I want to have the whole experience of bonfire parties. It won’t be complete if I don’t at least feel chills.”

“You want chills, lover?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Aran shot up from his seat by slapping his hands on his thighs. Grabbing Suna by the back of his shirt, he dragged your boyfriend away whose arms steadily reached out for you. You were following them in tow, apologizing profusely to an unimpressed Aran. As much as you couldn’t control yourself either, you wanted to stay to complete the bonfire experience. “You lovers are evicted from this space. Go back to your room and do your own thing. Thanks for the free trip, Y/N, we do appreciate it, but unless you get your man on a leash, I refuse to watch him shove his tongue down your throat. My snack is offended.”

A minute later, you and Suna were smack in the middle of nowhere in the nearby forest. Your boyfriend grinned sheepishly, using the flashlight from his phone to shine it to the path. You’d stormed off before him, footsteps louder than the gritting of your teeth. “You’re so stupid, Sunarin!”

“Lover, are you mad at me?” he cajoled, quickly catching up to you. Twisting you by the shoulder to face him, Suna’s pout grew bigger. You couldn’t help but sigh because how could you resist that? A handsome face paired with fluffy hair, then a puppy pout with his cheeks puckered out, his entire being prepared to wag his tail if you asked and you know he would – Suna Rintaro was the perfect definition of a weakness you’d rather not have.

“I was just joking, I didn’t mean it.”

“Aran was telling a good story. I wanted to hear it.”

“I’ll tell you a better story,” Suna promised, hands slipping through yours. “Since I’m the one who ruined your night, can I make it up to you?”

“You might do something stupid again.”

“I promise I won’t,” he raised his pinky finger for validity, and with a drawn-out groan, you looped it around his. Suna smiled afterward as if taking pleasure in the fact he knew he could push your buttons but you'd forgive him easily. “Turn around. I got something for you,” his voice turned soft, coaxing you to spin just like he asked. “Did you know? They say when you press the seashell on your ear, you'll hear them whisper the secrets of the sea to you. Like having your playlist sung by sirens – cool, isn't it?”

“That’s the story you wanted to tell me?” you snorted, cut off when you feel warmth spreading all over the skin on your back. Not a beat later, a chain bearing home to a seashell hung around your neck, Rintaro’s lips not once leaving yours until you guaranteed you couldn't feel anymore overwhelmed. “I–wow –It’s beautiful, Rin. I love it.”

“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy and I’m sure you can afford prettier ones—”

“Shut up. You got this for me so I’ll treasure this with my entire being,” spinning on your heel, you crushed him into a hug, your words muffled by his shirt. “You’re the best...if only you weren’t so annoying most of the time. You really get on my nerves.”

“But I always make you smile afterward,” he reminded, “Come closer. I’ve got another surprise.”

“You're not supposed to say you have a surprise or it'll ruin the purpose, Rin.”

“Shh, don’t ruin the moment!” he scolded, tugging you somewhere deeper into the forest. It got darker to a point the stars couldn’t be seen from above.

Just as you felt your chest tighten from panic, Suna squeezed your hands reassuringly, resuming in his travels until the line of trees broke through – giving way to the sea, the waves lapping at your feet and salty air kissing your cheeks.

Bewitched by the sight of stars blooming all around you, you spun around in glee, laughter pouring from your chest. Suna kept his eyes on you the whole time, his hands buried in his pockets as he witnessed you revert to your youth; the youth and dreamy childhood you'd long forgotten. “Now, I’m going to lose my dignity by being real cheesy, but I need to get it off my chest, so bear with me.”

You shook your head at him, toes digging into the sand. “Go ahead. I won’t judge  – I’ve seen worse from you.”

Suna joined in your laughter, making his way closer to you until your breaths shared the same space, his eyes unknowingly bowed down before he took in deep breaths. “I know...there isn’t much I can do for you,” he began, “I know that one day, whatever we have will come to an end. One day, you’re going to realize you’ve experienced enough of the good things until you’re satisfied, then I’m going to have to let you go.”

“Rinta—”

“No, no, let me finish,” Suna pushed a finger onto your lips, “I’m not stupid, Y/N. You made your intentions and boundaries clear, but I can’t promise I’m not going to fall in love with you. Because to be honest, you make it so damn hard. You make me hard.”

He guided your palm to cup his boner, and you squealed, shoving his chest away when he threw his head back to moan.

“You’re so disgusting! And here I thought you were serious for once!”

“I’m serious, believe me,” contrary to his words, Suna hadn’t stopped chortling. “The last two years I spent with you have been the best years of my life. You're my best friend, my girlfriend, my greatest emotional support, and everything more. If you ask me to lose a game for you, I would, but let's hope it doesn't come to that. Don't you dare abuse my weakness to you, too! You gotta be nice to me!”

“I’m always nice to you!”

“Yeah, you are,” Suna immediately grew serious as he rocked back on his heels, gaze shot up in the sky as they told him a story in a language decipherable only by him, “I don’t know what I did in my past life to be lucky enough to meet someone like you, much less have you with me right now, but I’ll hold onto it. These numbered days we have, this illusion of romance we’re both drunk in,” eyes lowering, Suna smirked at you. “When you first proposed the idea to me on casually dating, I didn’t think too much of it. I thought we’d hook up, and then get tired of each other. Who could’ve thought we’d still be together two years later?”

“Where are you going with this, Sunarin?” you fisted your shirt, “I’m not sure I’m going to like what you’re about to say.”

“Can you promise me something?” his voice cracked, brows meeting in the middle. “Tonight...can you be mine? Truly mine without worrying about anything else that happened?” before you could ask what he meant by that, Suna was already pulling out his earphones from his pocket, the wires dangling between your bodies before a song played through your ears. “This playlist...it’s a gift from me to your future. Look.”

“They’re all love songs.”

“Not just that – I added your most favorite songs so you can dance to them when you get married someday. I can imagine you in it already; you'd look so beautiful in your gown, and you'll shine brighter than anyone that day. Then you'll dance to this song,” Here in your arms, I found my paradise – my only chance for happiness. And if I lose you now, I think I would die . . . Suna placed his hand on top of yours, an empty smile matching his unreadable expressions. “You’re going to hold his hand and look him in the eye. He’ll tell you how much he loves you, how much he’s looking forward to spending the rest of his life with his wife, and you’ll be so beautiful when you smile I swear you’d be fucking radiant.”

“Rintaro,” your lower lip quivered as the song went on. Say you’ll always be my baby, we can make it shine. We can take forever just one minute at a time. “Stop it. You’re going to make me cry.”

“He’s going to be one lucky guy.”

“How do you know that? How’re you so sure I’ll fall in love someday?”

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Y/N. Deep down, you wish for a fairytale love story like you always did. But the world isn’t so kind, and now you’re thinking that type of bliss only exists in fiction,” Suna flicked your nose, “That’s all I want for you. I want you to be happy. From tonight to the years to come, I’ll always be by your side no matter what. That’s what best friends do.”

“And if I don’t? Find my soulmate, I mean?”

“Then I’ll marry you if we’re still single by the time we’re forty,” he swept a hand down to his body, “Though I doubt that because come on. Have you seen me? As soon as we break up, girls will be lining up to get a taste of this.”

“I’m sure they will. You’re hot.”

“Fuck yeah, I am,” Suna agreed shamelessly, pulling another burst of laughter from you. The whiplash of emotions he made you feel – from nearly sobbing to now enjoying this dance with him – had your mind spinning for a moment.  Suna cradled you close to him, his hands flat on your hips as he guided your bodies to the beat. “Right here in this spot, I’ll marry you.”

“Sounds like a good idea, Rintaro.”

“Can I hold you onto that?”

“As long as you become my first dance,” you whispered back, letting yourself go to give in to this serendipity within your heart. Shoulders relaxing, muscles loosening and a silly smile on your face, you rested your cheek on his heart – the heart he so unconditionally offered even when you didn’t ask. The heart you’d forever take care of if it meant keeping him close. “I’m yours tonight, Rintaro. Let’s put the past behind.”

To think that you’d find yourself in the same resort Suna had made that promise to you, nothing could be funnier. Perhaps it was the drinks you’d downed that made you feel like things were spinning in front of you, or were you seriously too out of it to notice the forest had been cleared? There were no more secluded parts of the beach a bunch of college students could sneak out to in the middle of the night, bottles of beer hidden under their shirts for a bonfire they spontaneously planned. No more memories to hold onto – no more of that special part of the sea right under the stars where Suna had given you that necklace.

It was like it never happened at all.

“Long night?”

Head snapping towards the sound of the voice, your gaze met Kita’s. He was situated in the room beside you, leaning forwards on the balcony railings as his eyes glanced down at the bottle you chugged. For a moment, you’d forgotten the only reason you came back here was for this man you were with. The same man who owned the entire establishment.

“Tired from the travel; it was too sudden,” you wiped the remaining drink off your lips, gesturing to the sandy beach below. “Hey, if you’re not going to sleep right now, do you want to share a drink with me at the beach?”

Somehow, you figured Kita would never say no to you. It came as no surprise when you sat next to him by the blanket he’d laid out, hips flushed together and his refreshing scent of citrus easing you to sobriety. The whole time, neither of you spoke, nor did Kita voice his curiosity.

However, his gaze that repeatedly snapped to yours said enough. “You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he commented, bumping your shoulders as he offered a sincere smile. He looked handsome like that; like a prince ripped out of a fairytale book. Even more of a reason why you felt at ease in his presence, your smile mirrored to his, albeit yours was more drunk and lopsided. “I’ve been told I’m a great listener – you can tell me anything if you want, but we can share this silence too. I don’t mind.”

“I’ve been here before.”

“Sorry, could you repeat that? I didn’t quite understand.”

“I said, I’ve been here before,” you repeated, voice less of a whisper now.

Your throat ached from that stupid drink, but nothing ached more than watching your memories flash before you, yet Kita's full attention served as a reminder they were no longer going to happen again. The past was a story long done.

“We were 22 when we came here for our second anniversary. What started as a casual hook-up session turned into dating each other out of curiosity, he and I actually lasted for two, long years. And they were the best years of my life too. He made me feel like I was always on top of the world, but that he'd be there to catch me if I fell,” your laugh came out dry as you patted the sand, “This is the exact spot I slow danced with him on that night. I promised to marry him if we’re still single by the time we’re forty.”

“This person you speak of...I’m guessing he is Rintaro?”

“Yeah,” you muttered begrudgingly, fingers ghosting over the necklace he’d given you that night. It was hard to admit that you never remembered where you last placed it. Like it was only natural of you to discard the pieces of any happiness he gave you. “He’s my best friend and my ex; the only boyfriend I ever had.”

“You sound like you love him.”

“I do,” you cried out, taking a little longer to realize now how much it hurt. To be standing right where you felt immortality seemed like a possibility if Rintaro was there with you, only for it to dawn on you that he wasn’t here. It had always been him. It was always Rintaro who left the greatest impression on you that now it was so hard to shake him off. Usually, alcohol would do the trick. It helped in blurring the faces of people you’d rather not remember, but his face was crystal clear, and you pushed the heel of your palm to soothe the throbbing headache. “God, I do.”

“Then why aren’t you with him?” Kita’s voice sounded like he was miles away. “You normally wouldn’t break up with someone you’re in love with.”

“Do you seriously believe love is all it takes to keep a relationship afloat?”

“If you truly love them, you’d do anything to work it out no matter the trial,” he said, back straightening as he shook his hands in front of you. “Ah, but please don’t take offense. I have no intention to pry into your business and assume things. I’m just saying that had it been me, there’d be nothing I won’t be able to do for the one I love.”

“How do you know when you’re in love, anyway? Friendship love, motherly love – those I understand. But everything else is a gray area.”

Kita opened his mouth before closing it, slumping back to a pose much too similar to Rintaro’s. God. You were now hallucinating to this point. Tearing your gaze away from him, afraid you were going to see someone else who wasn’t Kita, you opted for burying your head between your thighs.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to that. That’s something you get to figure out yourself; only you could ever know the honest expanse of your feelings.”

“That’s new,” you chuckled, “Here I thought you’d be able to help me understand this mess I’m in.”

“I’m a businessman, Y/N, not a cupid. Like you, I don’t know much about these as well,” he traced swirls and patterns with his fingers along the sand, his words undoubtedly innocent. It occurred to you then just how right he may be – the both of you were similar in more ways than one. Despite being born on a high pedestal, neither of you truly got to experience what it felt to enjoy the sands on your feet, nor the whipping of the cold breeze to understand what warmth meant. “Though if it ever came down to it, and someone asked me the same thing you did, I’d say what I feel for you right now would come closest to what falling in love feels like.”

Slowly, your head lifted. You squished your cheeks on top of your knees, smirking up at the sight of the redness of his cheeks even in the darkness. Innocent, indeed. “You sure it’s not a silly crush, Shin-chan?”

“Hmm...I suppose wanting to kiss your crush is normal, don’t you think?” he cast a nervous glance your way before scratching the back of his ear, “Oddly enough, it’s the first time I feel torn and at a loss for what to say. In business, there are strategies used to find the best approach to keep a business running or to save yourself from bankruptcy, but they didn’t include in the textbooks how you ask a beautiful woman if you could kiss them.”

“Oh, now that I know. Come here, I’ll teach you how to do it,” you urged, fired up by the much-needed distraction. Kita, on the other hand, flushed a deep red so hard you worried if the poor guy could still move. “Don’t be shy, sit closer to me!”

Albeit shaky, Kita managed to close the gap between your bodies. “What now?”

“Now you look me in the eyes,” you instructed, bringing his hands to cradle your jaw. You held his gaze the entire time, your chest swelled with pride as Kita slowly grew the confidence, the tremble in his hands lessening. “You hold my face, just like that, and then you ask me. Can I kiss you?”

“Can...can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Kita wasted no time in devouring you. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside him, the mere taste of you along with the bitter red wine awakening a primal instinct within him. His hands were everywhere. One gripping your thigh to coax you into climbing on top of him, and the other gripping your jaw possessively. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as greed overtook your senses. So maybe he wasn’t so innocent, after all. He was easily flustered sometimes, but that didn’t define what Kita was capable of.

Rather, you could sense it. His desire itching to burn bright, and who would you be if you didn’t help add fuel to the fire?

“You’re so beautiful,” Kita rasped, tongue darting out to coat your lips in moisture. You groaned at the sensation, reciprocating his drive by playfully biting down onto his lip with a wink.

“So I’ve been told.”

“You are not easily swayed, huh?” he laughed in your mouth, “That challenges me.” Kita took off his belt and tightened it around your wrists, but not before glancing down at you before he finished. Once he received a consenting nod, he pushed you back on the blanket. “My goal for tonight is to make you scream my name. See what that mouth is capable of other than teasing the shit out of me.”

A smile split your lips. Who knew somebody could be so attractive when cursing?

“But first, I’m going to make you cum with my tongue and fingers alone.”

You gasped as Kita tugged your cotton shorts off in a blink of an eye. He was on you the next instant, mouth on yours and his hands cupping the wetness grinding down on his palm. To say he was memorizing your taste would be an understatement. Kita had been consumed whole by lust, his eyes fiery when he opened them, and never had you felt so hot under someone’s penetrating gaze.

“You sure about this, Mr. CEO? We’re out in the open.”

“Good. You can scream as loud as you want then.”

Trailing feverish kisses from your jaw down to your chest, your eyes soared to the sky; the only thought going inside your head was the high you’d been subjected to. Your arms were pinned above your head to grant him complete control, rough hands kneading the flesh of your thighs before he pried them open. No resistance came from your side as you moaned, toes curled and nails dug into your palms at the first flick of his tongue on your bud.

“You’re so dirty,” he growled, his gaze leaving a burning sensation when he looked up at you. “You were walking around with no underwear the whole time? What if somebody saw?”

“Then they got a good show.”

Kita slapped your cunt. Body shooting up halfway, your legs quivered from the sting. So he was that kind of man in bed; the one who didn’t want to share, the one who was too selfish that you were the one being punished. It was an entirely different person from the man blushing just minutes ago.

You nearly couldn’t recognize him – not that you were complaining.

When you had someone as charming as Kita between your legs, lapping up at your juices like a man starved, your body exposed to him like you were served on a silver platter, this was seventh heaven in its purest form.

“K-Kita!” you screamed as two digits entered your sopping hole. Kita tsked below you when you lifted your hips to grind harder onto his face, craving the warmth of his tongue licking and prodding at your lips separated by his fingers. He stared at them so much your head fell back in embarrassment. “Don’t – don’t look at them too much.”

“I already have you making a mess on my tongue. It doesn’t make a difference.”

Kita pumped his fingers until you were creaming all over him, legs threatening to snap around his head if it were not for his warning glare. Your legs ached, your pussy throbbed. It was a different kind of pain and pleasure you could forever be drunk in.

As soon as he felt you tightening around his fingers, Kita picked up his pace. He hovered above you and planted his palm beside your head, his eyes darting all over your small gasps and chest heaving up and down, gauging your reactions. He nodded to himself once, then curled his fingers upwards. Just like that, you came all over him, jaw dropped from the orgasm and the tremors it came with.

“Shh, breathe,” he swept your hair sticking onto your skin, coaxing you back into properly breathing. “You did great for me, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl.”

You moaned at the sight of Kita shoving his fingers into his mouth. You’d never felt so confused in your life; stuck between wanting to be slapped and ruined, but also basking in the afterglow of his praises and coos at you. He only made it worse by swirling his tongue all over the digits. Once he was satisfied, he pulled them out with a pop, pushing his pants off before using the same wet hand to pump his leaking cock up and down.

You didn’t know what came over you.

Sitting up, you crashed your lips onto him to kiss him feverishly, aching hands struggling to unbutton his shirt. He smiled into the kiss as he helped you get rid of the offensive material, the shirt pushed off his broad shoulders until you pulled back – admiring his beauty with your tongue licking all around your lips.

Kita’s muscles rippled above you when he nudged you to rest on your stomach. “Stay just like that for me. Don’t you dare move,” you followed his commands, waiting patiently as he lined himself up to your entrance. Kita slid in too easily thanks to your previous orgasm, and the both of you moaned from him filling you up to the brim. He wasn’t as long as Suna, but his thick girth stretched you out like nothing before.

Faster than you could react, Kita grabbed you by the waist and lifted your ass, pushing your legs to the side and making you perk up for him. He leaned over you, capturing your lips once more before he began to move.

“Mhhm, fuck,” he grunted, his grip on your flesh tightening with weakening restraint. Arms slithering under your body, Kita groped your tits, flicking your erect nipples between his fingers until you clenched around him. Babbles of his name fell from your lips as he drove his hips into you. “Shit, I – move. Move for me.”

Your head shook in confusion. “What do I do?” you fisted the sheets, “Tell me, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Panting, Kita pulled you up to meet his chest, your arms now resting on your sides before he was pushing your legs to nudge with your hands. “Hold yourself open for me,” he remarked, hand heavy on your ass. The position intensified the ache burning your legs yet you followed like a good girl, peering up at him with innocent eyes while batting your lashes. “That’s right. Just lift your hips for me, love, you’re doing great.”

“Mhm, Kita—”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” he clicked his tongue, wiping the sweat on his forehead before he glared at you. “You must not be going hard enough if you’re still talking. Tell me, is it not enough for you?” when your response came out as a garbled cry of his name, Kita brought his hand down to your clit, continuously rubbing at your folds until tears streamed down your face from the overstimulation. 

“Forget him. I’ll fuck the thought of him out of you tonight.”

“Shit,” you hissed as something bright streamed through the windows. Cracking an eye open, you found Kita leaning against the balcony with a drink in his hand, wearing nothing but boxers. His back flexed with each of his movements. The scratch marks on his skin reminded you of the events that transpired the night before. Moving to sit up and get the blankets off, you quickly fell back as your head throbbed.

“Ugh. How much did I drink last night? I feel like my head’s split in half.”

“I’ll get you some painkillers,” Kita's smooth voice entered the room, your side of the bed dipping with his weight. He helped you sit up along with a glass of water, a pill placed next to it. As you downed it all, Kita's gaze dropped from your eyes down to your bare body, only for him to clear his throat and stare at the sea outside with feigned interest. “Do you...remember anything from what happened the night before? If not, then that’s understandable and I’m sorry—”

“You apologize too much, Kita. You’re fine. You were perfect last night.”

“So you remember.”

“I don’t forget good fucks,” you reasoned out, ignoring the way Kita’s face fell. What were you supposed to say, anyway? A one-night stand was just that – it wasn’t like either of you made love. You couldn’t understand why he looked so disappointed, nor did you have any energy to deal with it so early in the morning. “Has my secretary or mother called? She said she’d update my schedule as soon as we got here so we could get to work right away,” kicking the blanket off of you, you grabbed a random nightgown and tied it around your waist. “I need to shower. ‘Don’t want to be late for work.”

“Wait, there’s something I need to tell you,” Kita grabbed your wrist, and you raised a brow for him to continue. Paling, Kita swallowed audibly. “Our parents...they...planned this trip for us. Your mother wanted us to get along together so she meant it when she said she cleared your schedule. She hoped for us to have time for ourselves in private without worrying about the stress of work. I apologize for not telling you sooner—”

“You knew that the whole time?”

“Yes, and I am extremely sorry—”

“What’re you apologizing for?” you retracted your arm, gazing down at the marks of the belt previously tying your wrists before. “People only apologize when they’ve done something wrong. By apologizing, it’s like you’re telling me you let this happen – get out of hand just so you could sleep with me. Is that what you’re trying to imply? Or was last night an accident?”

Kita’s lips pinched together. “Last night was not an accident. I genuinely did want to make you feel good.”

“Okay, so you didn't have malicious intentions, and you were forced to this by my mother, but honest with your feelings anyway, okay, fine, whatever. You didn't mean to not tell me so let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I’ve got enough to worry about,” you muttered, “Plus, the sex was good. I don't care what my mother told you before that,” moving past him, you patted his shoulder with a bright smile. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go back to my room now. I reek.”

The ringing of a phone made you both pause. Heads turned to the lit device on his table, you ran past Kita, your stomach dropping at the name flashing on the screen. Your eyes widened at Kita's stiff posture. “I’m sorry, I need to take this call,” you swiped on accept, pacing back and forth at the silence greeting you from the other line, followed by a panted breath like he’d run a mile. “Rintaro? What happened, is there something wrong?—”

“Do I not stand a chance with you anymore, Y/N? Are you really not capable of falling in love with me?”

“...”

Suna was greeted by the faint crackling of your line, and he sighed, sounding like his laugh had to be ripped out of his throat. “Yeah, I figured, I don’t know why I bothered asking. It’s just... never mind, it’s not important. You enjoy your trip, Y/N. Come back safely.”

“Rin, wait!” you scrambled to explain, but the steady beep of his ended call was the only thing waking you up from your trance. Dread wrapped a hand around your neck as you ran to Kita, tears all over your cheeks from how hard you were shaking. Kita held you steady as you sobbed, “K-Kita, what do I do? Rin, he’s—”

“Calm down, Y/N. I’ll drive you home. You need to sort things out with your friend.”

“I’m so sorry, Kita.”

“Don’t be,” he swiped his keys off the table and ushered you to your room, quick on his feet to help you pack up. “Can you promise me one thing, though?”

“Yes, of course—”

“When you meet with Rintaro again, be completely honest with him. Sometimes you won’t notice you lose the people you cherish the most until they’re out of your reach, so while he’s still there, while he’s still at an arm’s length away from you, I suggest you take the opportunity and tell him everything,” Kita handed your phone back to you, and that was when you saw your photo with Rintaro taken years ago as your wallpaper. He was kissing your cheek, your face illuminated with happiness as he took the photo – “Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

Suna and Mari broke up again.

Osamu’s flurry of texts had been lighting your phone up for a while now, but you were too deep asleep that Kita didn’t want to wake you up with them. He’d been anticipating you’d leave as soon as you woke up, the disappointment and hurt written all over his face, yet he never pried further than what you wanted to tell him the whole way he drove you back to Tokyo.

According to Osamu, Suna crashed into his place for the night. He left to buy drinks on the day you left for Ishigaki, for this facade of a business trip your parents had set you up into when Mari snuck into his home, dressed in his clothes while sleeping with another man beforehand for the sole purpose of getting hickeys. She knew Suna didn't want to sleep with her. To think that she would go this far to spite you, just to ruin a relationship that had already been in shambles the moment she walked out that door and left him, Osamu was desperate to get into contact with you.

It had been hours since Suna left his place. Something about if she refuses to leave, then I’ll walk out myself – and his phone had been turned off since his phone call with you. Hours since Osamu last heard from him and hours since you’d been running all over the places Suna liked to hang out.

Your knees were so close to giving up, lungs tired from catching their breath until finally, you found Suna.

“Rintaro, wait!” the man stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice, your body colliding with his as you jumped to hug him from behind. Suna was real, he was warm and his body was stiff the longer you held onto him, but he was real. He kept coming back to the playground out of Tatiana’s. If you arrived a second later, you would’ve never made it. “Oh my god. I thought – I thought I lost you.”

“Dummy,” Suna sniffled, “I’m not dead. You and Osamu worry too much; I told him I was going for a run. You didn’t have to come back all the way here.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Why are you here then, Y/N? I thought you were on that business trip with that Kita heir,” Suna pried your arms away from him so he could turn around, ready to crack a joke when he was greeted by your runny nose and eyes sore from hours of endless sobbing. So much so that Kita ran out of facial napkins in his car. “Wait, are you crying? Why’re you always so distraught each time you’re with him? Tell me where he is. I’m going to teach him a lesson—”

“He’s the one who drove me here, idiot. It’s thanks to him I made it on time.”

“On time for what?”

Sometimes you won’t notice you lose the people you cherish the most until they’re out of your reach, so while he’s still there, while he’s still at an arm’s length away from you, I suggest you take the opportunity and tell him everything. But what did everything mean? What did you want to say?

Suna was patient as he stood before you, his silence doing nothing but spur on the unrelenting dagger of fear to drive deep into the wound you’d created. Don’t lose him, don’t lose him, don’t lose him –  “On time to...to tell you...that I love you,” you breathed out, laughing in relief now that the weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Looking him in the eye, you grinned at him. “I love you, Rintaro.”

“I know that. You don’t have to be so nervous about it. I love you too.”

“Not like that!” you slapped his arm, “I mean it! Look, we went to the resort where we had our second anniversary, remember? I still-I still remember the necklace you got me, and when I’m having trouble falling asleep because work gets too much, I imagine the sirens would tell me the stories of the sea as they speak in your voice and I know I’m late, but I realize it now. I love—”

“What romance novel have you been reading? I don’t understand why you’re talking like this,” Suna leaned down to whiff at you, “You reek of vodka.”

“I’m not drunk, Rintaro. Listen to me.”

“I don’t want to hear it from you, Y/N. For all I know, you’re only saying this out of guilt because you don’t want to hurt me as a friend,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Look, I get it. You're concerned. You've always been impulsive each time you feel like you're hurting someone because you immediately want to resolve that, but you're drunk—”

“I’m in love with you!”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Suna repeated in disbelief, poking his chest as his face masked with brewing fury. “You’re asking me why I wouldn’t believe your spontaneous confession? Let me jog your memory then. Ever since we met, you've made it clear you only want the romance but you never want to fall in love because you believe you're going to be hurt. And guess what? You're right about that. You're going to get hurt when you love because you let them in, you let them see the ugliest parts of you yet you trust they'll stay anyway. You hope they don't care. You stay up late at night wishing they're not disgusted by your morning breath or the sleep in your eyes, or you get anxious that they might be turned off when you tear your walls down and show your weird habits.”

“I know that!”

“You know, but you won’t accept that that’s the reality of life, Y/N. It’s not always going to be rainbows and unicorns. I know you only dated me because you wanted the filtered version of it, but that’s not how I see it. It’s not how I see you. I love you so much it hurts because I’ve seen you through your worst – I know how awful you can be sometimes – but did I ever leave you for that?” taking a step back from this sudden confrontation, Suna’s questions were answered. “I didn’t, but you did. Because you never wanted me that way. You only wanted the charming side of me that made you feel like you were on cloud nine without ever thinking I was ready to be with you even in your roughest times. You’re so stuck in your fantasy you don’t see there are people out here taking you seriously. So that’s why I don’t fucking believe you. You’re all talk. You never do anything about your feelings.”

“So then why did you call me?!” you demanded, clutching your chest that began to tighten under your clothes. “Why did you ask if you stood a chance with me if you weren’t going to believe that maybe I’ve changed my mind?”

“Because you’re hurting me!” Suna’s hands balled into fists before he curled them beside your head as if pushed with this need to hurt you but he couldn't. He wouldn’t. “You’re hurting me so much I wish I could erase your existence from my mind, but I can’t! Do you know how awful it feels when all I wanted to do was get over you? Were you even aware I was so fucking desperate to forget we ever happened? Did you ever stop to think that each time I'm kissing my girlfriend, I want to hit myself knowing deep down I wish it was you I'm with and not her?”

“That’s not my fault, Rintaro! You can't blame me when you're the one unable to move on from me!”

“But you were always there! How can I stop loving you when you’re with me all the time? How can I be happy with Mari when every little thing I do reminds me of you? It would’ve been better if you just fucking left! You didn’t have to come back and spew bullshit about being friends when you know I wanted more than that!”

“I wasn’t ready to be ‘more than friends’ before! Even if I did continue dating you, wouldn’t I hurt you more by pretending I can keep up with your feelings? I was scared, Rintaro. You know why—”

“Stop using Nagisa as an excuse on why you can’t be with me and just fucking admit you will never love me already!” Suna bellowed, dropping down to the swing to take huge, deep breaths. You, too, struggled to regulate your breathing as you hastily wiped the tears from your eyes, his words cut deeper than you could handle. “You can’t hurt me more than you already did, so get it over with. Just tell me you’ll never see me that way and I’ll go. I promise I won’t stay anymore.”

You shook your head fervently, reaching out to your best friend. “Don’t do this, Rintaro. Don’t leave me.”

Suna chuckled dryly, unable to stop himself from letting his tears drip down to your palm caressing his cheek. “Do you know why I remained hopeful this whole time?” he whispered, “It’s because you never pushed me away. After all this time, I thought I was the one hopelessly clinging onto whatever we had, but now I realize it’s only because you haven’t let go either. You don’t want me to leave, but you can’t stay with me, so where do I stand?”

“I don’t know, Rin,” you hiccupped, “I don't know what to say.”

“Mari came over the other day causing a ruckus, but I asked her to leave right after you did. I’m never going to forget how she invalidated me, only to come back like nothing happened. But it’s funny, don’t you think? That I only realize how much I want you right after I broke up with my girlfriend. It’s so pathetic.”

“Then – everything you told her that night—”

“I didn’t mean it,” he blurted out, “Y/N, I love you, I do, but you're hurting me too much for me to turn a blind eye after everything we've been through. So if you mean it that you feel the same way I do, then you prove it to me. Otherwise, I’m not going to take a gamble on something unsure because I’m not that stupid. So I suggest you be honest with me right now. If you love me, say it. If you don’t, then my only condition is that you walk out of my life this instant before you completely fuck me over.”

“What?” you echoed, “So we’ll stop being friends if we don’t work out? But didn’t we promise one another that—”

“Let’s forget the promises we made in the past. I’m going to be honest with you as long as you are with me, so I’ll tell you the truth,” Suna stood up to his full height, his face back to its usual blankness – which hurt so much more when he’s confessing – as he looked at you. Truly saw you for the person you were, and also the person he wished for you to be. “You and I are never going to work out as best friends when one of us isn’t satisfied with that. So if we give this another try, and we still can’t be together, then one of us should go. It’s the only way we’ll ever move on from whatever we held onto the past.”

taglist: @hollowpurpl @kyriaan @myhomeworksnotdone @omisemi @criesinpisces @fairybnha3 @sunasmuse @zeninnwife @rinstars @qualitygiantshoepsychic @sunasbabie @massivelynervousprincess @justablogforreblogs @hikroki-blog @thebeardedmoon @rinsangel @daphnxy @rintarovibes

it was so hard to write the smut scene with kita bcos i couldn’t properly visualize it but here is the position (ns/fw link) they were at lmao.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝐈𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 ~

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ; chan x fem!reader, bonnie&clyde!au, criminal!au, 60′s!au, bank robbery, heavy use of tobacco, explicit language,weaponry, mentions of infidelity, manipulation, mentions of murder, mentions of reader being smaller than chan, mentions of religious beliefs, authorities, american style!au, death, implied su-cide. 

𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ; SMUT!! sex against a wall (lmao good warning there cherry), dom!chan x sub!fem!reader, angry sex, dry humping, degradation, blowjob, face fucking, rough sex, dacryphilia, choking, possessiveness, implied corruption kink, creampie, unprotected sex (be careful plz), piv, clitorial stimulation, orgasm (m/f), cum. 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 5.9 k 

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦 ; this was heavily inspired by both well bonnie and clyde but also “the serpent” because holy fuck i loved that serie so much 

also warning right; this is purely fiction and not meant to romanticise crime and i think it’s pretty obvious that i don’t know shit about how to rob a bank neither do i know anything about weapons,,, so take this with a grain of salt.

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18

It was love. Love had led you down this path and shattered the one you cared the most about, the one that held your hand, the one that promised to die for you. Silence filled your mind as you stroked his cold cheek, his eyes closed. 

Your partner in crime.

Bang Chan.

“Tonight, coming up on channel 4, the continuation of the Lagoons.”

You turned the knob on the car radio, the windows on the silver vauxhall viva rolled down, your hair fluttering in the light breeze that accompanied the summer heat. The voice on the radio got distorted as you shifted channels, the antenna on the car barely being able to pick up signal from how far out in the desolate area the two of you were.

“Who the fuck watches the lagoons?” you said, furrowing your eyebrows, searching for some funky tunes as Chan was driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. He laughed, the cigarette smoke whiffing over to you, burning at the tip and hanging out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Where we heading, sweet cakes?” he asked, cocking his eyebrows and checking himself out in the rearview mirror. You scoffed, adjusting the silk scarf around your head and reaching into the glove compartment of the light colored interior of the car, grabbing the half empty cigarette box. 

“Don’t call me that, I’m married” you say, the flicker of the metal zippo echoing, a purple flame igniting and burning the white end of the cigarette in your mouth, the orange part quickly stained by your lipstick. Chan smirked, casting a glance at you as you puffed, putting the lighter on the dashboard and leaning back against the leather seats, exhaling the smoke through the window as you observed the mountains that passed you, sweltering heat making your vision blur.

“And still you fuck me. What’s he good for? Cheating on you? You should just throw that ring away, I’ll buy you a new one”

The ring.

You and your ex-husband never officially divorced. You just packed up your things and left one night when he was out drinking, probably snogging a woman younger his age. The emerald ring that he once put on your finger held no meaning, it was simply for aesthetic now. Memorabilia from when life was worse, reminding you to always strive for something better. It was ironic, the way the sun shined on the emerald green symbolizes wealth and toxic jealousy. You couldn’t help but to feel jealous of the many young women he spent his nights with. You thought you had moved on but maybe you hadn’t since you refused to let go of the ring. Thank god you didn’t have his child or else you’d be tied down for life. You escaped at the right time. 

You didn’t answer Chan, simply staring out at the window. The car zoomed past with speed, there was no time for resting since you two were the infamous criminals that could be captured at any moment, it was still a miracle you were alive and well despite how many times you’ve been in open fire with the authorities. The two of you always managed and had each other in the end and the plethora of guns that were loaded in the trunk could buy you freedom for a little while. A gritty highway that never seemed to end, the tumbleweeds rolling about in the distance, he searched for a place you could rest since dusk would soon arrive. Life as a runaway couple had it’s ups and downs but the worst part of it was not knowing if you would survive another day, cops could just arrest you, rip you from your lover and lock you up like you were once before, writing love letters to Chan on a filthy piece of paper until you were bailed out by none other than your mother that you abandoned for him. They didn’t understand. He might be a criminal, stealing cars with his older brother since he admired his fancy lifestyle with hookers, expensive liquor and gold. He was so close until he stumbled up to you through a mutual friend and fell head over heels, he was too much of a hopeless romantic for him to be able to lead such a lifestyle. 

A big sign was ahead of you, a small red building inching closer to the two of you. Sure, it wasn’t the safest place, anyone could call the authorities on you but luckily telecommunications weren’t that advanced out here, most of the news being the ones you heard from between others lips. You two were simply a married couple whatever new village you infiltrated or at least that’s what people thought, the two of you were simply well-off, being able to afford the most expensive cigars and perfumes. The cigarette had burned down, almost meeting your plush lips that were covered in the latest lipstick. You threw it out the window, Chan had done the same moments prior. 

“What you say, hm? How about here for tonight?” he asked in a low voice, his hair slicked to the side, his jaw clenching as he rested his head on the headrest, looking at you with a quick glance with a smile. He always smiled when he gazed at you, it was almost a reflex. He was too smitten with love. You nodded, grabbing your oval sunglasses from the seat in between you and Chan, putting them on and observing yourself in the exterior mirror. Now you were ready for greetings with strangers, hiding behind your dark tinted shades.

The young man swerves onto the dusty driveway, the dust billowing from behind the car as stones flew everywhere, the car coming to a hasty halt. Your back bounced against the seat, removing your safety belt and opening the car door, stepping out with your shining red heels. The hotel seemed kinda small, perfect place for two sought-after criminals to hide. The building was a cherry red, tacky curtain in mustard yellow covering the chipped white window frames that held up the grimy glass panes. It lied in a remote place, being the only building as far as the eyes could see, beside the hotel there was a kiosk where one could buy the most basic necessities like bread, milk and cigarettes. As you were looking around the place, standing with your feet wide and your hand on your hip, Chan was busy unpacking the car. Not the weapons that were nicely hidden beneath a blanket but your two small briefcases containing nothing more than a couple of expensive clothes, makeup, a small notebook of your poems, a camera and photos of relatives. As you observed the mountainous landscape and dry land where cactuses made their home a small old man hurried out, dressed in a half-dingy suit and vest, the colorful tie being the main focus.

“Welcome welcome!” he says in a scurried voice. “Please, let me!” The old man shuffled over to Chan, grabbing the briefcases out of his grasp to which Chan bowed subtly in thankfulness. You and him followed the man inside through a lime green door and were greeted by the lobby that had a dark oak check-in counter, decorated with small trinkets of older times, a golden clock and small piles of paper. The man put down the bags in front of the desk, you casting a glance at Chan that was looking at the keys and the tags attached on the walls on small hooks.

“How long will you be staying for?” the man asked to which Chan hummed, looking at you before clearing his throat and answering - “Just one night”

“alrighty hmmm,,, then I’m guessing a double bed would suit your fancy? You do make a lovely couple indeed” he said with a smile, showing off his yellow stained teeth, years of coffee and tobacco. You smiled, clenching your jaw in frustration. 

“Thank you, which room exactly?” you said quickly, wanting the old man to hurry his actions. He looked back, exposing his half-balding grey head of hair and stretched for a pair of keys at the top, the keys jingling as he put them on the desk. 

“Room 4, it’s just here by the side. That will be 30 dollars” he said, writing something down on a piece of paper. Chan opened one of the luggages, quickly pulling out the needed amount and tips out from one of many wads of cash that were neatly tucked away between clothes and other products. He put the green bills on the desk to which the old man heightened his eyebrows, the generous tip falling to his liking. 

“Keep the change” Chan said with a smile, picking up the briefcases and heading to the room. You smiled at the old man as well, picking up the keys and turning to head over to your lover. 

You put the keys in the lock of the brittle wooden door, a small golden plate saying ‘4′ with a clear font. As the door opened you were met by a rather rustic room, the walls colored light blue and the bed frame the same wood as the door, murky white duvet covers on the bed. Luckily it was just one night.

Chan started packing up your belongings, mainly picking up a map of the area that he bought at a supermarket hours prior. He unfolded the bunt of paper, laying it flat on a vanity that had a round mirror attached in front. He placed his index finger harshly on a certain point on the map, his fingers clad in all kinds of rings with jewels. 

“Here we are, Johnsons motel, right?” You nodded at his question, him continuing talking in a firm voice. “So if we take this route tomorrow at around 9 am we should be there by 10:50 am which is perfect, we c-” You interrupted him mid sentence.

“Chan, you told me we weren’t gonna do this until next week, we have money!” you yelled, only then remembering that the walls are thin in such a matured building. He sighed, turning to gaze at you with dark eyes. He hated it when you contradicted him, it was almost like he was addicted to making you his slave and sure, he did take care of you whenever you were hurt due to his actions but he liked having you totally dependent on him, risking your life for him. The veins running down his arms got bolder, he moved the arm that was holding him up from the vanity instead standing right in front of you with a wide stance, his eyebrows heightened.

“What did you say?”

Your back hit the tasteless blue wallpaper as Chan walked towards you, trapping you between the wall and his muscular figure. A harsh gulp descended down your esophagus as you gazed intently into his hooded eyes, yours twinkling with mere innocence though you were far from innocent in the eyes of the public. He looked you up and down, almost swearing with his eyes, gliding his tongue against the inside of his cheek. 

“I said why can’t we just wait with that for a bit? We robbed multiple stores last week and we have money? I don’t see why you need to hurry so, like fuck s-”

“So you think money grows on trees? We do this together y/n and I could just leave you whenever, I’d just laugh seeing your ass trying to survive”

He leaned closer to your ear, his body pressed against yours. His hot breath lingered near you, tickling the shell of your ear.

“Or better yet I could kill you, no one needs a criminal” 

His voice vibrated through you, the deep tone scaring you but oddly turning you on, the heat pooling around your core, your panties sticking to the thin fabric of your panties. You burst into laughter, catching him off guard.

“You motherfucker” you said through your teeth, smiling brightly at him. 

“I don’t like this attitude you’re giving me y/n, I’m not joking with you” he said with a devilish smirk, moving away from your ear and staring into your soul. It was almost as if he stared through you, his jaw moving as he clenched it.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” your facial expressions turned serious in seconds, the smile wiping off your face. You looked him dead in the eyes, not even flinching when he smashed the rough palm of his hand on the wall next to your head, the loud sound echoing in the cool room, the slight humming of the air conditioner above the bed.

“No and you won’t be after I fuck you” 

You wanted to rile him up even more, get him so angry that he had no other choice but to pin you against the wall and stuff his cock so far down your leaking cunt that you’d alert the other guests around the motel, hearing how good Chan fucks you. 

“Hah,,, is that your only threat?” you chuckled mockingly, running your pointer finger up his toned chest, lifting up his head by his chin and flicking your finger off it, striking a jeering smile at him. His knee traveled up your leg, jabbing at your wet clothed entrance to which you accidentally moan, the gain of friction finally arriving when your core was burning with pure arousal as Chan spoke. With a gleaming look in your eyes you rubbed against his knee, his slightly cold hands wrapping around your neck, feeling your larynx bob when you swallow your spit, not breaking eye contact for a second. His lips landed on yours, pushing his knee against your sex causing you to moan into the kiss as you rolled your hips on the flat surface of his dress pants. Your lips pursed, teasingly biting his bottom lip as a sign that you needed him, his tongue slipping into your mouth and danced around with yours in a sloppy battle. Your hands fumbled with the big metal buckle of his belt, undoing it in desperation and unzipping the black pants that covered his bottom half. Chan grunted as you palmed him through his boxers, his erection begging to be freed from it’s clothed prison, you squeezed his member, massaging it in your hands to make his knees weak, make him beg for you but this time you would be begging for him as he placed removed his knee from your dripping cunt causing you to whine from the loss of contact. 

“C-chan, please I need you” you pleaded in a thin voice, lifting your head up as his kiss diverted to your neck, his rough lips leaving kiss after kiss on the sensitive skin, moving down to your exposed collarbones. 

“You’ll only get what you want if you do whatever I ask you to”

You nodded eagerly, putting your hands down his boxers and stroking his cock, Chan groaning against the skin of your neck near your ear, your earrings rattling. 

“Yes, I’ll do anything! J-just fuck me already” you whimpered, your hot cheek against the wall. 

“Then you follow your little ass to the bank tomorrow and do what you are told, understood?” His voice was deep, humming as he nibbled on your ear, giving it small kitten licks.

“And if I don’t?” You challenged him for a last time, stopping your slow strokes down the shaft of his twitching dick and removing your hands from his underwear and instead wrapping your arms around his waist. He scoffs, pulling back and looking you in the eyes, slowly putting his hand around your throat and tightening.

“I’ll choke you to death, you know I’ll get away with it” he said with a lifeless smirk. You nodded in pure fear, your eyes twinkling in the minimal light that came from the sun setting outside the dusty windows. Suddenly his hands grasp a handful of your hair, gripping it by the roots and shoving you down on your knees that land on the frangible floorboards with a thump. He harshly lets go of your hair in order to pull down his pants and underwear, his hard veiny cock springing free mere inches from your saliva coated lips. Chan gave his cock a couple of strokes before rubbing the crimson tip against your lips, hissing when you poke your tongue out, him smearing his precum against the surface of your wet tongue. You pursed your lips around him, slowly working your way down his shaft, taking a breath of air every time you pull away, licking the underside of his dick with fat stripes all the way from the base to the tip, flicking your tongue off. His big hands grabbed either side of your head, him thrusting inside your throat, not caring if you gagged, that just made him even more viscous, hearing your desperate moaning and seeing the spit run down your chin and neck covered in his marks. Your head bumped against the wall with every thrust, your nose pressing up against his abdomen as he was balls deep inside your mouth. Your eyes burned, tears teasing at your tear duct, a cold salty stream rolling down your cheek as he stopped, pulling out your mouth, you coughing violently. He swiped his thumb over your cheek, wiping the tear with one finger before grabbing you by the neck, lifting your head up and looking into your eyes as he inserted his dick in your mouth once again, your thick saliva making his cock glisten. His silent groans only made you helplessly rub your thighs together, eager to have him inside of you. Every moan that slipped from between his swollen lips made the blood rush south, not to mention his fierce eyes that were glued on you as he coldly fucked your skull, no hint of compassion. He stretched out your throat, the clear outline of his cock making its appearance on your esophagus as he went deeper, groaning as you felt him twitch inside your mouth. As the familiar sensation of a knot in his stomach descended upon him he pulled out, rubbing the tip of his leaking cock against your glistening lips before he was quick with his movements. 

It didn’t take much for Chan to throw you over his shoulder, legs thrashing and you squealing, telling him to put you down. He did but not in the way you expected, slamming you down on the plushy bed, a fine layer of dust swirling in the orange sunset that shined in. The impact caught you off guard, knocking the air out of your lungs. Chan climbed on top of you, his belt buckle touching your body as he hovered above you. You hastily shuffled upwards to the headboard, lifting your hips as you removed your brightly colored bell bottom pants revealing your panties that already had a wet stain decorating them, Chan chuckling as his thumb glided over the patch of wetness. 

“You’re so needy baby, all worked up from giving me a blowjob, huh? I can slip my cock into you so easily” he purred at you, his fingers hooking at the elastic band of your underwear, slipping them down to your ankles, you shimmying your foot out of the fabric and letting the panties dangle from your other foot as your spread your legs, Chan being in between them. He danced his fingers up the wet folds that presented themselves in front of him, you squirming at the slightest touch. 

“You think you have control, you think you can do anything without me? You’re wrong, without me you’re nothing” he growled at you, his fingers covered in your slick as he teased your clit, fingers rolling in circles as you clutched onto the covers, knuckles whitening. You hurried by taking off your top, throwing your bra somewhere in the same direction, exposing your hardened buds, Chan’s mouth watering. He did the same, momentarily losing contact with your wet cunt as he pulled off his shirt, his perfectly sculpted body surprising you every time, as if you hadn’t fucked him countless times before. Chan attached his lips to one of your nipples, the other one being fondled by his hand, the cold pure silver causing you to shiver. Your hands stroked his soft hair, twirling it between your fingers and softly whimpering. He left tiny marks all over your chest, his lips sucking and gently nibbling on your supple skin. When your entire chest was a mess of marks and spit he lifted your legs, leaning them against his wide sturdy shoulders as he teased your wet entrance, rubbing his tip against your folds causing your back to arch slightly, a long pitched mewl forcing its way out of your mouth. When he finally slipped his cock inside you he groaned at your tightness. 

“fuck y/n, you’re so tight no matter how much I fuck you” he said, leaning over you so that your legs almost touch your chest, planting one hand beside your neck as the other one choked you, the restriction of air making you lightheaded but only adding to the pleasure that burned at your core as he relentlessly fucked into your squelching cunt. Your feet dangled near his shoulders lifelessly as the sheer momentum of his thrusts made you move upwards on the bed, the bed frame creaking due to the age it carried, you hoped no one noticed what scandalous activities was going on this room but it was probably already too late as your moans turned into high pitched cries. Your hands folded over Chan’s wrist as you tried to stabilize yourself, it took every ounce of strength to not close your quivering thighs. His thrusts got faster, rolling his hips against yours as the hand around your neck loosed, a harsh slap landing across your tear stained cheek, his thumb dipping inside your mouth, you latching on instantly.

“Look at you, thinking you’re so tough. You’re weak, remember that” he said with a lifted smirk, asserting his dominance through his dark gaze. You nodded, feeding his ego even more as the hand around your neck tightened, making you lightheaded with arousal, his cock ramming into your tight cunt that begged for release just like you. Chan loved seeing you like this. All fucked out with drool hanging from the corners of your lips, your eyes rolling back into your skull as he vigorously made your world shake, going hard enough to make the bed squeak loudly, the headboard bumping into the wall with every thrust. You couldn’t form a single sentence, blabbering incoherent sentences with his name stringed into it, in your mind you made perfect sense but your hesitant lips didn’t do the same. 

“f-fuck!” you cried out, the even pace getting sloppier as the skin slapping sound grew louder, bouncing against the awfully colored walls of the shabby motel room. You squirmed around on the bed, flailing your arms as you desperately tried to grab onto either your lover or the flowery sheets, your efforts fruitless as you felt your orgasm approaching with wide strides as Chan started circling your swollen abused clit with the pad of the hand that wasn't forcefully holding onto your throat, making you swoon. You arched your back as you couldn’t hold on any longer, clenching around his cock with every ounce of perseverance. With weak legs you interlaced them, trapping him deeper inside you as the merciless fiddling with your bud made you let out a breathy broken moan, your tits bouncing with the movements. The male looked at the tears that rolled down your cheeks, adoring your bloodshot eyes. How he loved staring down at his prized possession. He had ruined a once innocent girl, made her his with the mere power of love and crime. 

He lulled his head back as he was dangerously close to his climax, drawing in a harsh breath from between his clenched teeth, the air cooling down in his mouth before warming up in his tobacco-stained lungs. He was sent over the edge with a final thrust that made your body jolt in excitement, his thumb now simply resting on your clit as all thoughts were wiped clean from his mind, his hot seed spilling into your cunt, unknowingly making you cum as your abdomen contracted, your teary eyes squinting together, not in pain but in pleasure. His cum painted the quivering walls of your sex, draping his body over yours as he panted, staying inside you to ensure every drop of cum was where it supposed to be. His lips were coated with a fine layer of saliva, two lips meeting in a loveable kiss. It might seem odd to others. That you love a man that only brings you down or uses you, at least that’s what it looked like from a different perspective but you were infatuated, maybe even obsessed. He made you famous and he took you under his wing when you fled from your scumbag of a husband. 

Now Chan was the only thing that mattered.

He pulled out, falling down beside you, the weight of the bed shifting as his built back hit it. The cum dripped out of you slowly, hitting the sheets and staining them. You ruffled your hair before you stood up, cum running down your inner thigh as you made your way over to the shower. Chan instead crept down under the covers, staring up at the ceiling in a half lying position, casting glance at the dark oak bedside tables where a packet of cigarettes was left haphazardly along with your metal zippo, a gift from your dad that died in war. It was important to you, important enough to destroy you with smoke. Chan retrieved one of the deadly sticks from it’s pretty eye catching packaging and lit one end, inhaling the smoke. He put one hand beneath his head that was supported by the pillow as he other one momentarily removed the cigarette, flicking the ashes on the cold tile floor, the grey thick smoke spreading through the room, interlacing the bed sheets with it’s scent. The gentle tapping of the water on the bathroom floor calmed him, calmed him from knowing that tomorrow might be the last day he’s alive. Or maybe it’s you. 

Here you were again, getting into the sparkling clean car that was loaded with nothing more than a multitude of weaponry that many times wasn’t used against civilians, just to give a gentle reminder that you don’t fuck with the two of you unless you wanna get a bullet burned through your skull. If they ask for it they are gonna get it.

Chan loaded the suitcases into the truck where a blanket covered the weapons, the pile of murder machines looking innocent like this. The sand of the desert was blowing in your face, your long skirt flowing in the wind. Just because you were a criminal didn’t mean you had to dress out of fashion, the style was a part of it. You gazed out into the valleys of dust, the lonesome tumbleweeds drifting with the wind like a blind rat following the smell of musky cheese, not aware that it’s heading to it’s own death.

“Ready, sugarplum?” Chan said, wrapping his hand around your head and leaning it against his sturdy shoulder. 

“I was born ready” you whispered into the wuthering wind. He smiled but put on a serious face as you looked at him, before walking over to the passenger seat, opening the car door.

“Let’s do what we do best, darling.” you said with a bittersweet grin, sitting down and closing the door. 

The bank wasn’t too far away, that being that it was still in the same state since many other robberies required long car rides that was either filled with funky tunes or more cigarettes than you can count. This one wasn’t any different. His two hands were gripping the steering wheel as he drove faster than the speed limit, praying to whatever nonexistent god he had in his head that the police wouldn’t flash their red and blue sirens behind the vehicle. He probably prayed to the money. He often said that money did things not even god was able to do and there was truth in Chan’s words or maybe the both of you were too infatuated with the idea of money that you would go to any lengths just to get it. Just to smell the fresh dollar bills in your hands. The car was in complete silence, only the growling of the engine being heard. It was always scary heading to a new place, you never knew what would happen there. Maybe it’s the last time you witness your lover behind the steering wheel, the last time you feel the wind fluttering through you hair due to the rolled down window. Maybe it was the last time you would see the emerald green jewel reflecting it’s light as the sun bounced off the glossy surface of the stone. You denied your longing for your husband, beside all the cheating and drugs you were ready to stay with him but there was one thing that Chan could do better; love. 

You could tell how tense Chan was. The way he anxiously checked the rearview mirror and forcefully looked straight at the neverending road in the middle of nowhere. It was pretty apparent that this lifestyle was driving him mad, making all his nerves stand on the edge of his skin, paranoid to the bone. But there was no end in sight unless someone else put that end there. He was never gonna stop, go as far as he could and shoot for the stars. It was people like him, greedy people that life usually steered the wrong way and well,,, you were one of those as well, greedy for luxury even though the life you were living now was anything far from that. You turned to Chan, his one hand rested in his lap and you slowly reached over to grab it, rubbing your thumb over knuckles. His eyes momentarily diverted from the road to you, looking at your eyes that were focused on his slightly rough hands.

After what seemed like an eternity, Chan parked into the parking lot of the bank, the building being just as remotely placed as the motel. Perfect. The car was strategically placed near the road for easy escape if there would even be any required. As you stepped out of the car you opened the trunk, uncovering the multitude of weapons that lay beneath the blanket and passed Chan his favorite rifle, the M1918 Browning Rifle. You simply stuck to a revolver since you could hide it in your holster for when you needed two hands to grab the money and shove it into the burlap bag. 

There wasn’t much thought needed for the robberies that happened this far away from the city, the local police station was a good drive away so neither you or Chan worried too much but it was still a risk. The big wooden doors were slammed open by him, a shot up into the ceiling shattered a lamp and next second your ears were filled by the terrified screams of men, women and children. You didn’t hesitate your movements as you went up to the multiple receptionist desks where the women in neat uniforms were all kneeling on the floor. 

“Get the fuck up!” you yelled, jumping on the desk and pointing your gun at one of the girls, she looked rather young and innocent with her dark shaking pupils that wandered with pure fear. You yelled at her to open all the vaults, to which she complied not having any other choice than to get shot. Her hands quivered as she put the money in the bag, filling it up with valuable green bills that would promise you dreams. You glanced back at Chan that was pointing the rifle at the people that lied down on their stomachs with their hands on their head, the sound of a child's tears not even bothering him or his conscience. You held the gun to her head, lonesome tears streaming down her face as her legs were barely able to hold her up. A smile cracked on your crimson painted lips as the bag filled up, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your blood making you fly on the clouds, you could do whatever you wanted in this moment. You were free. 

Just as you were about to turn around, signaling to Chan that the mission was done you heard another gunshot that was foreign from the usual sounds of the weapons you carried. It didn’t sound like it came from inside the building. The second after you heard a window shatter, glass flying over the civilians that screamed in fear once again and then you heard a thump, a loud one. You looked over your shoulder and there he was, your lover with a bullet through his back, the puddle of sangria red blood spreading over the bright vinyl flooring. This was the sight you feared the most in the world and here it was, right in front of your naked eyes. You dropped the revolver you held in your dominant hand and rushed over to him as you heard a male voice over a megaphone from outside the building. 

“Civilians, exit the building immediately”

The crowd of people squeezed through the doors, fleeing to whatever corner they could or hiding behind the countless cop cars that flashed their colorful sirens. You dragged Chan’s head into your lap as you fell down in defeat, looking at his closed eyes and his face that turned a pale blue with hints of grey, he was cold to the touch and his blood stained your clothes as well as the floor, the dark red marks on the floor that lead to his body as you dragged him closer to you, cupping his cheek. Frigid tears rolled down your cheeks and accumulated on your chin before dripping down onto his face, coloring his lips with a clear sheen. 

He wasn’t gone, he simply couldn’t be. He was your Chan, the Chan that always got away no matter what. Nothing could stop the two of you, not a stupid bullet through his back. You shaked him as you sobbed loudly, your lips quivering as black streaks of mascara covered the supple valleys of your cheeks. 

“Chan! Chan, fuck!! Wake up!!” you yelled as you shook him vigorously but his lifeless body was limp in your arms, no sign of life to be seen. You hugged him closer, not feeling his heartbeat or lungs filling with air from this cursed place. He wasn’t gone, he was still here and he would wake up one day, you told yourself these lies because they are easier to believe than the cold hard truth. Your blood boiled with pure rage. Somebody had stopped your dream life, that someone being the law itself but no matter who it was it still stopped you and you never took no for an answer. Your empty lost gaze diverted to the loaded gun that lied only footsteps away from your cowered body.

“Exit the building, leave the weapons” you heard the voice call out from outside, the megaphone crackling and distorting the voice. 

What was better?

Dying in the hands of the authorities or dying in Chan’s arms?