#☾⋆⁺₊⋆ — dreaming about us

[moved-to-satoruswaifu]

✎ three simple words, yet many possible ways to convey so much. imagine your f/o‘s confession…

❝i love you.❞ — it is me who loves you. even when you think no one did, i always did. and i always will.

❝i love you.❞ — how did you not see it before? i need you to know. i can no longer be silent.

❝i love you.❞ — there is no one else in the world for me. it‘s you, only you.

[yuyusboyfriend]

Sweet Dreams ☾˚✧

pairing: best friend!wooyoung x reader

wordcount: 2k

content: Playing with your best friend's hair seems to do more to him than you think.

warnings: nsfw, slight somno, dom!wooyoung, sub!reader, petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart, love, honey) afab!reader, no use of gendered pronouns but words like cunt, clit etc. are used, nipple play, cunnilingus, wooyoung is still a brat, lmk if im missing anything!

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

He squeezed your waist as you continued to brush his soft locks, letting out soft snores against your thigh. You swiped your finger over what he called his "dot", before returning to playing with his dark strands.

Wooyoung had been by your side since your first year of college, sitting down next to you on the first day; He purposely flicked his pencil onto your desk to distract you both from the task at hand.

"whatcha doing?" He said to you in a failed attempt at whispering. You gave him a quick side eye before returning to your work and dropping his pen on his desk.

"The work. I'm doing the work."

"Cool! Cool… what was the work again?" You finally give him a proper look at his face. Fuck, he's gorgeous. The mischievous grin he had plastered across his face was angelically evil and you could hardly tear your eyes away as you analysed his perfect features.

"Like something you see?" He ran his tongue against his top teeth as you stared back at him in now horror.

"What?" you yell, flustered and loud enough for a few classmates to whip their heads in your direction with a glare.

"My name's Wooyoung, you?" He-Wooyoung carried on as though nothing happened, as you noticed he was holding your phone and adding his number, texting himself so he could save yours.

"y/n, but what are you-" The professor announced the class was over and Wooyoung had already hopped out of his chair and walked to the exit, before turning around one last time,

"Talk soon, yeah?" He softly smiled at you and left.

That's what led you here, as his sleepy sounds echoed in the silence of your bedroom. The laptop that had been previously playing the movie you were watching on mute, careful not to wake him up. It was the last day of exams and you were both taking your well-deserved rest. Wooyoung looked so innocent in his slumber; long lashes resting on his smooth cheek, hands squeezing tighter around you occasionally as if he wasn't already close enough to you. He was so… kissable.

Fuck, you shouldn't be thinking about that - You had been trying your best to forget the silly flutter you felt in your chest when you thought about your best friend. You knew better to feel this way about Wooyoung, but every time he invaded your personal space, which was a lot, the ache in your stomach became worse with each touch. To say you were suffering right now would be an understatement.

"Mmhm…." Wooyoung hummed in his sleep, fidgeting against your outstretched leg under him. You stared at his lips as he huffed again.

"You having a dream woo?" You knew he was still too deep in his sleep to hear you, but you still hoped he would wake up and put you out of your misery. He shuffled against your leg again and squeezed you once more, rolling his hips slightly.

Was… was he hard?

"woo, seriously" he cut you off with a whimper against your waist, his jaw dropping open slightly to let the noise slip out onto you. Your muscles froze as he grinded on your leg, desperate for friction. You tried to escape the grip of the boy but as you shuffled away he only readjusted his tight hold on you and pulled you further down grinding into your inner thigh. You could feel yourself getting wet at the situation as well as the growing patch on your thigh from Wooyoung's precum leaking through his jogging bottoms.

"y/n, fuck" his sleepy form dug his nails into your lower back making you moan at the pain and pleasure, making you squirm enough to-

"y/n?" Wooyoung was looking up at your restless form, worry forming in his darkened eyes as he tried to halt the drag of his hips against your crotch. Your own body holding back the urge to push your hips up to him closing the minuscule gap between your heated bodies.

"Woo,

I'm sorry I should've woken you up-"

"y/n, please shut up for like two seconds" Wooyoung breathily whispers before reaching up to your face and lunging his lips against yours. His kiss was overflowing with desperation as he gripped the back of your neck to pull you towards his form, resuming his hips movements over your clothes. You could feel his head pressing down into your cunt through the stupid amount of layers separating your bodies.

"Fuck baby, you think I can get these off you?" Wooyoung whispered sweetly into your ear, snapping the waistband of your sweatpants and grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin under your ear. You tried to wriggle them off by yourself but Wooyoung wanted to hear your words.

"words baby." He peered through his long lashes.

"please Wooyoung."

"'Please Wooyoung' what?" Oh, what a bastard. He was getting off on being bratty despite his growing need in his pants getting harder by the second. Knowing Wooyoung meant you knew he wasn't gonna give up this fight no matter how in need he was.

"Woo take these off me right I swear to god" He snatched your sweatpants from your waist along with your undies and stuffed them in his pocket before you could finish your threat.

"Honey you're soaked, all from me rubbing up on you while I was asleep? that's dirty." his hoarse voice seeped through a wide grin. He dragged his thumb against your cunt, spreading your arousal to your sensitive clit.

"Shit! Wooyoung, please oh my god" you whined under his soft touch.

"Not God, love, I'm better" He gave you a wink before lowering his head to kiss down your thighs, each kiss nearing further to your aching cunt as you pleaded and begged him to end your suffering. Your hips lift as his lips latch around your clit, tongue moving expertly against it while he slides a digit into your begging hole. It wasn't enough. You needed him, his cock to fill you. As though he could hear your thoughts raging around your head, he takes his mouth off you for a second.

"I need you wet enough to take me, sweetheart, I can't go hurting you now can I?"

"Wooyoung I can take it you dickhead, please," You pant, tipping your head back.

"You're so impatient, can't even let me enjoy my meal" He huffed wiping his mouth, standing up to untie his sweats and rip them off, "You got a condom?" He looked at your bedside drawer and opened it before giving you a chance to answer. He closed his palm around a small silver vibrator and presented it to you.

"you think about me when you use this baby?" he bit his lip as he examined the toy, turning it on to feel the vibrations on his fingertips. "You probably touch yourself with this while whining my name under your breath, huh." You shivered under him at the filth spilling out of his mouth, your own words stuck in the back of your throat at the sight of him. You leant up to tug his shirt off of him, desperate to feel his skin against yours, thighs clenching together as your eyes take in his naked form.

"please." Your whimper was enough for Woo to reach back into the drawer and fish for a condom, finally pulling one out and ripping the foil with his teeth as his other hand busied itself massaging your thigh. He slipped the condom over his hard length, groaning at the feeling of how turned on he was and leaned over your form.

"you sure?" He looked into your eyes, looking for any doubt or concern and being met with nothing but lust and your love for the boy.

"Wooyoung, now please, please" He cut off your begs, his tip slapping against your clit and meeting the entrance of your cunt, pressing into you with a hard thrust. You knew he was big but the feeling of your hole being filled so well had you writhing under him at the stretch.

"shit woo, I'm gonna cum," You pant, not registering your blabbering.

"Then cum baby, but I'm not done with you yet," He nipped at the skin of your collarbone, leaving a trail of blooming marks on your skin that made you whine. He thrusts into you a few more times before feeling you clench around him, feeling your release leak onto his cock, not halting his movements. He rocked himself deep into you, slowly turning the feeling of overstimulation into mind-breaking pleasure. The way he slammed into you every few strokes brought you back to the reality of him burying his length in your wet cunt. All you could muster was a string of moans mangled with his name, the pleasure suffocating your ability to think comprehensibly.

"My cock making you forget your words, babe, ah, fuck you're so cute under me. " He ran his tongue along your sternum, before latching his mouth onto your aching nipple. Ludicrous noises of his mouth lapping at your skin, his lips leaving your nipple with a pop before moving to the other and repeating his actions. You could only moan in reply, wrapping one arm around the back of his head to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, the other dragging your nails across his back in a way that was sure to leave a few marks by the time you were done.

before you could process what was happening you heard a buzzing noise coming from the boy's hand, "Better give this a go shall we? wanna see you come undone again." Your eyes shot open as you felt the cold metal vibrator around your clit, Wooyoung running it up and down as to deny your your second orgasm for a bit longer while his own began to build. He snapped his hips into you harshly, still with a consistent rhythm despite him slowly losing a grip on his sanity being buried so deep in you. His cock managed to brush up on your g-spot with every slam making you see stars.

You felt the vibrations directly on your clit now, your screams filling your bedroom as he continued to drive into your aching cunt - with the extra stimulation you were on the edge of your orgasm, and Wooyoung was basking in your noises, hips movements growing more sloppy by the second. The dirty noises from the base of his cock meeting your soaked cunt mixed with your moans in the air had his eyes rolling back.

"Woo I'm gonna- I can't-"

"You gonna ah- you gonna come on my cock again? Do it, I know you can" He grunted into your ear, voice hoarser than before. Your cunt squeezed his aching member as you came around him once again, feeling the condom swell with his own release inside your sore walls. He continued to roll his hips into you, riding out your orgasms together till you were done.

He looked into your eyes, and to your lips before connecting them again. You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck to pull him in closer, desperate to be close to him still.

"I need to pull out and get you cleaned up love," He whispered to you as you protested, wanting to feel him in you for a bit longer. As he pulled out, you let out an airy moan, sighing at the loss of feeling full. Wooyoung tied the condom and tossed it in the trash before pulling his boxers up and leaving to get something to clean up with.

You watch the way he moved as he helped clean you up, before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"Woo-"

"I love you y/n." You whip your head up to look at him, a little annoyed he just stole the words out from your mouth.

"I was gonna say that! You bastard i wanted to say i love you first!" He let out a high pitched laugh at your pouting face, before reaching to you and kissing you softly.

"You snooze you lose, love."

oh my god i've wanted to write for woo so bad, its kind of shocking out of all the members I wrote woo as a dom but the heart wants what the heart wants❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 sorry for not posting in forever but I've had noooo motivation it's been ass 💔 thank you for reading !!!!

also this isn't proof read so most likely some mistakes 🙏

[kana-de]

★ summary: arlecchino nsfw hcs since her banner is almost out.

☆ cw: nsfw. wlw (fem terms like cunt and pussy used). choking. dirty talk. cunnilingus. strap-on. a bit of belly bulge. arle's hands appreciation.

☾ a/n: this is a repost of the same work bc the first one didn't get any attention at all. also, this is like, the most smut i could write for now so yeah.

— arlecchino loves loves loves holding eye contact with you during sex, especially if it's missionary. her stare is intense, like she'll stab your heart right here and now, but she knows you're only getting more turned on by it. even if it's doggy, she'd bend your back and press it to her chest and she would make you look into her eyes while fucking her strap up into you. her other hand would also slide to your lower belly to feel the bulge of the strap in it.

“don't take your eyes off me. look away once and you aren't cumming tonight.”

— arlecchino knows damn well you get off from just looking at her hands. and she also knows that you love having her hands wrapped around that pretty little neck of yours, so she uses this knowledge every single time. every time she begins with foreplay, her hand sneaks its way to your neck, squeezing it experimentally until she feels your knees weaken or hears a choked whimper leaving your mouth. arlecchino just knows that simply using her hands would be enough to make you cum over three times already.

“you have a very nice neck there, you know. i'm sure that if i'd squeeze a little bit harder, it'd make you squeal nice and loud.”

— is a master at dirty talk, prove me wrong. arle uses her hands and mouth just perfectly. always the low voice, whispering some very hot and dirty things right in your ear. when she's in the mood, she may even use some pet names to flatter you. but usually, she doesn't use anything other than 'dear', 'darling' and 'princess' — the last one is used especially a lot when she wants to pamper you like the princess you are.

“let me guess... you were having so many wet dreams about this, were you not? daydreaming about this for days on end. i bet that now this cunt is soaked already.”

and then:

“what's wrong, dear? cat got your tongue, hm?”

— when arlecchino comes back from work either overworked or mad, she knows she doesn't even have to explain herself to you as she buries her face into your cunt the moment she sees you. i wouldn't call it "taking her stress out on you" though, i think she does it more to calm herself. she eats you out like she's been starving for days even if she did it just yesterday. holding your hips down so you will stop squirming so much after she just gave you your third orgasm. you're becoming too sensitive, but arle doesn't look like she gives a damn, because she knows that if she was hurting you, you'd already say the safe word that you two have.

“shut up and take it. you know i can't help myself."

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

The honey to my moon 🌬

Husband!Leon S. Kennedy x wife!reader

《A/N》: I'm back babyyyyyyy. Sort of. I don't know, we'll see. This is inspired by 'Alrighty Aphrodite' by Peach Pit so take a listen if you feel like it!! FYI this can be read for ANY Leon (like most of my Leon fics) I just use RE4R Leon in the banner bc of favoritism <3

~Fi 🐝

(Pssst, my requests are open!)

《Content》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, cockwarming, creampie (don't do that) consensual groping. Very, very sweet, of course! Lotsa domestic moments with Leon, basically a collection of cute moments I think would happen on your Honeymoon <3

Reader is implied to be chubby/ has stretch marks and tummy fat bc who doesn't???? (I still love you if you don't)

《Word count》: 3.4k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🪷── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🪷── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The, not quite shrill, yet still very annoying sound of your alarm ripped you out of your pleasant dreams. With a soft groan you stirred in the arms of your husband, which you were comfortably pressed against.

After a quick rub of your eyes, a smile formed on your lips as you remembered what day it was.

You turned to face Leon, admiring his peaceful expression for just a moment before you couldn't resist the twitching urge in your fingertips anymore and you gently ran them down the bridge of his nose and over his cheek.

His brows furrowed slightly, and his nose scrunched up at the tickling sensation on his skin.

"Happy one week of being married, baby." You whispered softly, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone.

A dopey grin tugged at his lips, and he pulled you even closer to him with a soft hum. His lips found yours in a clumsy attempt at a good morning kiss.

"My beautiful, beautiful wife..." he mumbled against your lips, making you giggle and melt into his embrace at the same time.

"Can you believe it's been a week already?" You were cut off by yawn that decided to rudely interrupt your sentence.

"No... feels like I just fell in love with you yesterday." He let out a soft breath as his eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed his lips against your forehead, letting his touch linger as he slipped into a moment of comfort and love.

You sighed against his skin, feeling sleep still deep in your bones, but both knew you'd have to leave your shared cocoon of affection sooner than you wanted to.

"We have to get up... we'll miss our flight.." You slurred, fighting the heavy drooping of your eyelids from the warmth that Leon enveloped you in.

He grumbled softly under his breath, something about 'ungodly early flights', which made you crack a grin.

"Alright, up we go.." he groaned, heaving his body into an upright position, with you still securely in his arms, rubbing a hand over his face to get rid of the tiredness that remained in his muscles. With a peck to your nose, Leon stood from the bed, stretching his arms and neck with a yawn.

You crawled up onto your knees, your arms comfortably fitting around the curve of his neck and shoulders as you let your lips find his again in a tender kiss.

"Good morning, my handsome, handsome husband.." You purred, making Leon chuckle.

"Are you copying me, sweetheart?" He asked with a smirk as his hands migrated down to your waist.

"It's the highest form of flattery, don't you know?" You replied with a wicked grin, feeling his fingers dig just a little tighter into the flesh of your waist.

"Yeah, yeah.." he playfully rolled his eyes as you giggled, getting out of bed.

"Come on, we're on a time crunch." You let your hand slip from the embrace of his as you made your way to the bathroom.

He quietly followed you, landing a gentle slap on your ass. You yelped at the impact, jumping forward before turning around with angrily scrunched brows.

"Hey!" You pouted, rubbing the faint red mark on your skin.

"Just crunching time, babe." He shrugged with a cokcy smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes and huffed some words under your breath, making him snicker.

"Actually, let me help you in there." He declared, reaching you in a few strides and pushing you into the bathroom.

"What- I don't need help brushing my teeth!" You argued, trying to push back against him.

"Who said anything about brushing teeth, huh, honey?" He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand up.

"Leon-"

"Whaddaya say we get this Honeymoon started early?" He said against the skin of your neck, trailing soft kisses along the column of your throat.

"No, no, no, we have a flight to catch!" You said sternly, clinging onto the doorframe.

"Oh, come on, baby.. you know how fast I can make you fall apart.." he breathed into your ear, slipping his hands underneath your shirt.

Leon tugged at your middle, firmly enough to make you struggle but leaving enough room if you wanted to back out. With the feeling of his hands on your skin and his breath ghosting deliciously over your neck, you relented, letting your grip on the doorframe loosen.

You gently slipped past the door with him and let out a soft sigh as his lips met your neck once again as the door of the bathroom fell shut.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

With packed bags, an excited attitude about going on your Honeymoon and a couple of new love bites just below the collar of your shirt, you were off to the airport.

You yawned as you watched the few city lights pass by, the streets empty. No surprise, really.

No person would willingly be up and about at this hours, except a few joggers (who were clearly insane) and the poor souls who'd just finished the night shift.

Leon's hand envolped yours tightly, keeping hold of it while the other one was loosely wrapped around the steering wheel, as you sped down the highway.

"Don't rip my head off, but.." he broke the silence, making you turn attention away from the lights flashing past the window, "you've got all the papers 'n documents and whatever we need, right?" Leon asked, slightly chewing on his lip.

You would never let him live it down if you forget your tickets and other papers just because of the desperate morning romp that had occurred because of his neediness. You would curse him to the sun if you'd had to cancel your Honeymoon purely because he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

You chuckled and whipped out a clear folder with a plethora of printed e-mails, copies over copies of important information, and so on.

"Being overly prepared runs in the family." You chirped, waving around the, surprisingly thick, folder. Leon visibly relaxed, a dopey smile gracing his face.

"So that's why the printer ran out of ink." He mused, glancing your way. You shrugged with a mischievous glint in your eyes and Leon chuckled, pulling you into his side to press a kiss to your cheek before going back to driving down the seemingly endless roads to the airport.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"Airport coffee is truly something... special." Leon forced out, clearing his throat and disapprovingly eyeing the dark liquid in his paper cup.

"That's why you get the good stuff." You sipped your hot chocolate smugly, watching as Leon cracked a grin and pulled you into his side.

"Can I have a sip?" He asked sweetly, nosing your hair. You wordlessly handed him the cup as your head went to rest on his shoulder.

"I'll always share with you." A small smile sat on your lips as you quietly told him.

Leon raised a brow at you with the faintest hint of a smirk.

"I know for a fact, that's not true."

"Oh piss off." You grumbled, breaking into a smile.

"Tell that to the cookies you didn't share. Or the leftover Pizza. And the-"

"Okay, okay! Point is, I'm sharing now." You huffed, making Leon grin.

"Thank you, angel." He hummed, placing a kiss to your hairline.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You let yourself fall onto the bed with a thump, sighing in relief at the soft mattress beneath you.

"I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a nap." You said, a little mumbled. The bed shook as Leon dropped down next to you, immediately reaching for your hand.

"A nap sounds nice." He sighed, eyes falling shut. You laid in silence and soft breaths for a moment, already starting to doze off. "We could nap by the pool." He suggested, turning on his side to face you. You rolled over in a similar fashion.

"That's just your excuse to see me in a bathing suit and lather me in suncreen." You snorted, poking his chest. He cracked a smug grin.

"Would that be such a crime? A husband wanting to see his gorgeous wife in a bathing suit?" He defended with a smirk, cupping the back of your neck and gently stroking his thumb along your jaw.

"We could get lunch and maybe some drinks..." You thought out loud, weighing your options. You'd either get a good nap and be hungry when you wake up, or you could get a descent snooze plus some lunch, maybe a cocktail and a shirtless Leon.

"Alright, the pool it is." You declared, watching as Leon almost jumped off the bed with excitment.

You both packed a little bag with the essentials; sunscreen, sunglasses, a book, and whatever else you thought you'd need.

Leon was in the bathroom, making a suspicious amount of clattering noises, when he peaked his head out the door.

"Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you wear the blue one? Please?" He asked bashfully, a pinkish tint on his cheeks.

Your expression softened, and your heart melted.

It amazed you how he could straight up ask you to fuck you before your flight, but asking you to wear his favorite bathing suit of yours was flustering him.

"Of course, honey."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"... Lee."

"Hm?"

"My ass does not need any more sunscreen."

"Just don't want you to get burned." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder while shamelessly massaging sunscreen into the fat of your rear.

"Leon Kennedy, get your hands off my behind before I beat yours!" You scolded, swatting his hands away.

He grinned and raised his hands in mock surrender.

"You can feel me up all you want in private, baby, but not in public."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just doing my husbandly duties and making sure you weren't gonna like a tomato."

"... you're lucky I love you." You narrowed your eyes at him, huffing when he blew you a kiss.

"I love you, angel." He said softly, retreating to his own sun chair.

"I love you too, you cute idiot."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Your wine glasses clinged together as you sat on the cold stone of your balcony, huddle together with blankets and pillows.

It was a clear night, and a few stars decided to show themselves. It wasn't necessarily cold, but the breeze that passed by did make it a little chilly.

There was the crunching of snacks and the chatter and laughter between bites as you watched the stars and the moon illuminate the vast property of the Hotel.

Other couples might've chosen to fancy up and go out for dinner but Leon and you had chosen to do what you did best; not fit in the box.

Instead of eating way too small portions for an outrageous price while pretending that you felt comfortable in such a posh setting and simultaneously being defeated by the ridiculous amounts of forks beside your plate, you had a cozy evening with the love of your life.

You did splurge on the bottle of wine, but it was your Honeymoon, after all.

The gentle gusts of wind coming up from the coast left goosebumps on your skin and a salty taste on your lips.

"Today was really nice.." You spoke quietly, enjoying the peace of the moment.

"Yeah, I think so, too. Can't wait to spend the next two weeks with you like this." Leon replied in a soft and loving tone that almost fell into a whisper. Your head rested on his shoulder, like it usually did, your hand reaching for his.

The cold metal of his ring sent a pleasant shiver up your spine as you entangled your fingers and curled closer into him.

Leon happily obliged your silent plea for closeness and wrapped you in his arms.

"I know that I won't be able to ever put into words how much I love you, so I want you to know that deeply cherish every moment with you." You looked up at him, and his features softened as he gently held your face.

"I know you do. I can... I can feel it. Is that weird? I just sort of feel the love radiating off of you all the time. I hope you feel that when you're with me as well."

You looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky himself, the same ones you were admiring, and everything in him just melted.

"I do feel it. Not only are you my husband, but you're my best friend too. Two-in- one." You smiled sweetly, scooching further up in his hold just to be that little bit closer.

"I'm so glad that I married you." He whispered, firmly pulling your lips against his in a passionate kiss.

You'd never get bored of the feeling when he kissed you, the love and tenderness pouring from it. But there was a slight ache in your heart that you'd never be able to kiss him enough to quench the raging flames inside your chest.

You pulled away for a breath, with puffy lips and shimmering eyes that showed Leon just how much you truly cared for him.

"That makes two."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The softness of the bedsheets on his fingertips made Leon brows furrow. He was expecting a different softness; you.

Laying majestically next to him, bathed in the morning sun that poured in, even through the curtains. He lifted his head off the pillow with a disgruntled sound, blinking away the sleep in his eyes to look for you.

There were trickles and splashes of water that gently broke through the comfortably silent atmosphere. There was a slight breeze coming from the open balcony door, making the curtains sway.

Leon made his way to the terrace and, good heavens, the sight before him was enough to make him lightheaded.

You were perched on the edge of the small stone pool that you were extremely excited about ever since you laid eyes on it, skin glistening from the water with your hair intricately stuck to your back.

That would've been enough to make all the blood from Leon's cheeks to rush down south, making his boxers feel tight, but that wasn't all. There were bubbles.

Soft, foamy suds that clung to your hips and the curve of your waist, truly making you look divine with the morning sun shining down on you. Your legs were swishing in the water, taking in the peaceful morning while everyone else was far off in their dreams.

Leon's mouth hung open slightly, and it took every ounce of power in him to stop himself from drooling, but he didn't waste any time sliding the door open further to get through.

The noise made you look back over your shoulder with a soft smile when you saw him striding towards you.

Strong and familiar arms wrapped themselves around you, trying to discreetly feel you up.

"Good morning, honey." You spoke gently, stroking over his forearms that were tightly situated around your middle.

"Absolutely great morning if you ask me." He chuckled lowly, though not failing to press a kiss to your lips with such affection it almost covered any seductive intent behind his words.

"Christ, baby, you look heavenly..." he breathed against your ear, sliding his hands towards your hips to knead at the plush flesh and feel the shimmering grooves of stretch marks beneath his fingertips.

"Thought I'd wake you up with a little surprise for being the best husband a girl could ask for." You replied sweetly, trying to play innocent as if his calloused hands on your wet skin didn't ignite an inferno deep in your gut.

He let out an amused chuckle, slyly moving one hand to the pudge of your belly and the other kneading one of your soft tits.

With a soft sigh, you let your head fall back against his shoulder.

"You look like Aphrodite emerging from the sea foam, do you know that?" He asked gently, making your head spin with the way he was so easily drowning your mind in both lust and affection.

You chuckled, turning on your knees to face him.

"Well, then... will you do me the honors and be my Ares?" You purred, trailing your hand down his chest all the way to his cock straining in his boxers, cupping the member and squeezing gently.

A groan ripped from his throat and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

"Whatever you wish, my love." He whispered, guiding you back into the natural stone pool, watching with a ravenous gaze.

His underwear was quickly discarded, and he joined you in the water, backing you up against one of the rounded walls.

One hand on your waist, the other carefully placed on the back of your neck to cushion the hard edge of the stone

. His lips found yours in a loving manner, quite the opposite to his lusting eyes that raked over your naked form, but as much as Leon wanted to devour you, he wanted love you.

He reveled in his love for you. All he needed was to be close to you, as close as reality would allow and if that entailed him buried to the hilt inside your delightful cunt he wasn't one to complain.

Your bodies were pressed together, your tits squished up against his chest, and his dick laying heavy between your thighs. Your lips and tongues danced together like they had done so many times before, eliciting the occasional soft groan or sigh from you and Leon.

The bubbles littered on the water surface stuck to his broad back as you ran your fingers down the length of his spine.

"Can I, sweetheart?" He asked breathlessly, staring at your blown out pupils and puffy lips.

"Mhm, yes, please... need to be closer.." You responded equally as breathless before fiercely capturing his addicting lips once again.

The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance and with a shuddering breath he pushed past your lips and slid snuggly inside of you.

"F-Fuck... my perfect girl... God, I love you so much.." he groaned as quietly as he could, feeling a shiver run through him at the warm embrace of your gummy walls.

He quickly muffled himself by gently biting down on your shoulder.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you held him tighter, suppressing any sounds you might've made. Leon slowly rocked his hips into yours.

They weren't full thrusts, but they didn't need to be. This wasn't about an earthshattering orgasm that would knock the wind from your lungs, it was about feeling close and loved and his lazy and sloppy movements into your pussy did just that, with an added bit of pleasure.

Leon continued to rock his hips, dragging his heavy cock against your insides just right.

His pelvis hit your clit perfectly with each sloppy thrust, his happy trail adding to the euphoric sensation.

You were seeing stars by now.

Both of you were still sleepy and sensitive from waking up recently so you were at the brink of your edge already.

"Le-Leon.." You managed to get out between quiet moans that you were trying your best at biting back.

The sloshing of the water and his heavy pants were the only things in your mind as you felt the tight coil in your belly snap.

"Love you, I love you..." he slurred as he, too, reached his end. He came inside of you, pulsing against your insides.

The squeal that you felt bubbling in your throat was quickly swallowed by a hungry kiss from Leon.

He supported himself against the stone, catching his breath before he maneuvered the two of you around so you were straddling him, still nice and full.

"I love you so much, Lee." You hummed, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I wouldn't mind if everyday started like this." He smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple when you lazily slapped his arm.

"Mhm, wanna crawl inside your ribcage and live next to your heart.." you mumbled, tuckered out.

He chuckled and gently stroked your back.

"If anyone else said that to me I'd be concerned."

"You put a ring on it." You argued, pulling your hand from the water and holding it up to him.

"Hm, that I did." He hummed, gently taking your hand and kissing your ring.

"And I'd do it all over again."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🪷── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you enjoyed <3

(Yes, I'm aware of the bad and weird things that happen between Aphro and Ares, [poor] Hepheastus, man.] Just let me have this okay)

More Leon works --> 💫

《Tag List》: @k-fallingstar @dmitriene @vampkennedy @agrerion

(Lmk if you want to be added to my Leon Tag list!)

[haitani-maki]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐑𝐚𝐧

•𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙽’𝚃 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃

•Contains NSFW links ⚠

•It is just headcanon

•You're free to disagree, just stay respectful

•English is not my first language

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran who's more tender with you

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran who wraps you in his arms to sleep

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran is a yellow flag, you rarely argue, and when you do, it's because he's annoying you in some way

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran likes to give you pet names

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran who's a fan of pda

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran who doesn't care about boobs or butts, he just wants to use the soft flesh as a pillow, he will feel like he's in heaven

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran's love language is physical touch and give you gifts

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran will take you to good restaurants. Sometimes he will ask to speak to the chef to compliment the food, you won't know how to react

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran who likes to see you on the dance floor of your club, he says it's not the same without you there

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran bonten may not be able to spend much time with you, but he will leave bodyguards to take you wherever you want and carry your shopping bags

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran who has a temper and could be stubborn, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't do anything for you

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran is good at keeping control, but that changes when someone does or says something to you. At Bonten, he would either get rid of the person himself or order Sanzu to torture them

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran he would be grumpy with everyone, but he would melt at the sight of your smile, the only exception to his bad mood, you made him soft

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran will propose to you and start calling you his wife, he loves it

☾ ⋆⁺₊bf!ran who dreams of starting a family with you, he wants two children, he thinks siblings are important

₊ ⊹bf!ran's going to fuck you romantically

₊ ⊹bf!ran's going to fuck you like his slut

₊ ⊹bf!ran is going to let you use his face as a seat

₊ ⊹bf!ran will give you kisses on the forehead and give you compliments while he fucks your throat

₊ ⊹bf!ran who knows every inch of your body. Every inch that makes you moan his name

₊ ⊹bf!ran who's going to give you multiple orgasms

₊ ⊹bf!ran might even give you a facial

₊ ⊹bf!ran who's going to fulfill your fantasies

₊ ⊹bf!ran's sometimes it will whisper in your ear how much it loves you as your cock slides inside you

₊ ⊹bf!ran who will play with you at inappropriate times

₊ ⊹bf!ran who can't get enough of the beautiful noises you make to him

₊ ⊹bf!ran who smiles when he sees you squirming underneath him, too fucked to reply

₊ ⊹bf!ran who's going to mark you (good luck hiding that)

₊ ⊹bf!ran who will punish you if you're a brat, denying your orgasms for hours or making you cum every 10 minutes without a break

₊ ⊹bf!ran will show you his kind side if you behave

₊ ⊹bf!ran who's going to turn your legs into jellies

₊ ⊹bf!ran who loves you and your hole, he loves to see your cock disappear into your hole, you will be his death

₊ ⊹bf!ran who will absolutely fill you up over and over again

⚠These videos don't belong to me, credit to their respective owners

twitter - twitter - twitter - twitter - twitter - twitter

A curiosity I used: At the end of the Puzz Reve Christmas event, there's a line from Ran and Rindou

Ran:おっ、モンブランアンジェ。。。ここの シェフやるな

Oh. Angelina Mont Blanc, huh? The chef knows his stuff.

Rindou: おい、そこのお前、シェフ呼んで来いよ 兄貴が礼を言いたいってさ~

Oi, you over there. Call the chef over. My brother wants to show his thanks.

©Reblogs are welcome, do not copy or translate

[genshin-obsessed]

Rent a Genshin Boyfriend!

This is inspired by a dream lol but it’s also probably influenced by a video I was recommended on YouTube. My x reader blurb is in pink and is just something in addition i wanted to add that would otherwise break immersion (and does it anway :') ).

Characters: Venti, Kaeya, Xiao, Baizhu, Kazuha, Heizou, Cyno, Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Lyney

Hello! Welcome to Genshin Boyfriend Rentals! We have a wide array of men that may meet your temporary dating needs, assuming you've got the money.

There are a few rules we need to go over beforehand, however. Please keep these in mind as you browse!

The Boyfriends have the right to leave during the date for any reason. If you believe it was unfair, you may contact support to potentially get a refund.

The Boyfriends are real people with feelings, please treat them with respect and refrain from pushing their boundaries.

No sexual requests of any kind. Attempting to do so will make him leave and you will not get your money back. They are boyfriends for hire, not escorts.

There are a few rules set by the Boyfriend, himself, which will be sent to you upon selection and payment. Please do your best to adhere to the rules for the best experience!

Are you looking to experience a polyamorous relationship? Feel free to hire more than one at a time! Their compatibility is written on their profiles but those are general suggestions!

Let's begin, shall we? The Boyfriends vary by region, please select the one that best suits you! If selecting more than one, keep in mind you will be the sole focus, but can ask for a slight change if you wish.

These Boyfriends are currently available for today!

┍━━━☽【❖】☾━━━┑

━━ Mondstadt ➺ Venti ➺ Kaeya ━━ Liyue ➺ Xiao ➺ Baizhu ━━ Inazuma ➺ Kazuha ➺ Heizou ━━ Sumeru ➺ Cyno ➺ Alhaitham ━━ Fontaine ➺ Wriothesley ➺ Lyney

┕━━━☽【❖】☾━━━┙

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Venti | ★★★★☆

550 Mora/hr.

All expenses must be covered by you.

A maximum of 8 hours per day.

Available for overtime events that may extend into multiple days but prices vary.

No gender preference.

Best compatibility: Lyney, Cyno

Ever wanted to be serenaded by a bard? Need someone to help you out of your comfort zone? Venti's your guy! Venti is the excitable boyfriend. He’s chirpy, knows the best places to go, is enthusiastic about every and all dates. He tends to be very loud and cheerful, so if you're looking for some excitement, he's the best!

He’s very good with shy people and doesn’t have a preference for gender so he’s great for anyone who’s new to renting a boyfriend. Venti is also great at comforting. Did you lose someone recently? Are you feeling down about life? Feeling like everything is at a standstill? Venti is great with his words and will do his best to cheer you up.

His favorite place is visiting a bar and his favorite thing to do is perform. He previously worked as a bard but has now moved to joining us in our endeavors as a Rental Boyfriend!

"I promise with me you'll be smiling until your face hurts! Or your money back!"

Venti is mindful of how much money he spends. He understands why expenses are covered by the renter, but he still feels bad sometimes. Not only that, he's not exactly cheap either. So, when he ever goes on a date with someone who can't exactly afford dinner or whatever, he comes up with other date ideas that could be entirely free! However, Venti is usually hired for his empathetic side. He's great at understanding loss and loneliness and has plenty of loyal customers who he meets with at least once every two weeks. You can be one too, if you'd like.

Kaeya Alberich | ★★★★☆

575 mora/hr.

All expenses must be covered by you.

Maximum of 8 hours per day.

Is only available for up to 24 hours only, and prices vary.

No gender preference.

Best compatibility: Heizou, Kazuha

Do you need a boyfriend who's just great at flirting and making you feel like the most beautiful human being on the face of Teyvat? Meet Kaeya! He's quite popular as he's great with both newbies and veterans at renting a boyfriend. He's very charismatic and usually loves to fluster his partner. Kaeya is not a big spender, so don't worry about expensive dates. He's great at improvising and is just looking to make you happy!

His favorite place to visit is the bar, but he also enjoys things like picnics and window shopping. He's not a demanding Boyfriend so if you'd just like to have some company at home, he's right there with you!

Kaeya is more physically affectionate. He loves hugs, cuddles, often gives cheek kisses and will most likely always be holding your hand. If this is something you aren't a fan of, we recommend you hire someone else but can also talk it over with Kaeya, himself, if you'd like.

"Whatever you wanna do is ok with me. After all, I think the day should be dedicated to someone as special as you."

Kaeya has a tendency to forget faces if it's been a long time, so if you're renting him with a long span in between, he may actually forget you completely. He does feel really bad and does his best to play it off, but sometimes it doesn't work out. Don't worry! He's got a plan for that too! If you're a loyal patron though, he will inevitably remember you.

Xiao | ★★★★✬

650 mora/hr.

All expenses must be covered by you.

Maximum of 6 hours per day.

Not available for overtime events.

No gender preference.

Best compatibility: Cyno, Lyney

Meet Xiao! He's not very excitable, doesn't talk a lot, and lets you do your thing. He's mainly for people who don't want a talker and prefer to do an activity with someone. Whether it be painting, watching a show, playing video games, knitting, doing puzzles, or meditating, Xiao is the perfect choice! He's got a very calming atmosphere around him and will 100% help you relax!

Xiao speaks through touch for the most part. If you need some form of physical affection, he can provide. If you want to cuddle, hold his hand, or just lay on his lap, he's happy to provide given you ask permission first.

!! If you're new to renting a boyfriend, Xiao is NOT recommended !!

"I'll do whatever you want to do, so don't feel pressured to plan something extravagant. Just be you and we'll have fun, I guess."

Though Xiao has his charm and is extremely handsome, his rating simply relies on those who like his personality type which is specific. Sometimes people want a Boyfriend who's all cool and quiet like him, but tend to realize it's not as fun when they're actually with him. He does have a few tricks up his sleeve for people like those, but will more often than not just let them crash and burn and helps them get a refund for any time he didn't spend with them. He is who he is, some people like him, others do not. His popularity has skyrocketed recently and he's pretty much on par with Boyfriends like Kazuha, Kaeya, and Wriothesley.

Baizhu | ★★★★☆

500 mora/hr

All expenses must be covered by you.

Maximum of 8 hours per day but can be booked for multiple days together. Maximum of five days.

Available for overtime events. Prices vary.

No gender preference.

Best compatibility: Alhaitham, Wriothesley

Are you feeling a little under the weather? Don't have the ability to grab medicine? Just need a little company while you recover? Look no further than our very own doctor Baizhu! As a practitioner of medicine, Baizhu has numerous methods to help you feel better.

He'll help you take your medicine, make you meals for swifter recovery, and is more than happy to give you some much needed company. Don't worry about getting him sick, he knows the proper precautions.

"Remember, health comes first. If you don't know how to get better, I'll be right beside you."

Baizhu actually prefers to work with people who are sick. Whether they have terminal illness or temporary, he's more than happy to provide any sort of companionship to those who ask for it. He's actually helped find more serious, life threatening illnesses before and has saved a number of people like that. Baizhu is a softer boyfriend, willing to sit beside you and stroke your hair as you attempt to sleep. He's the only Boyfriend who can be booked for multiple days in advance, others work on a daily basis only.

Kaedehara Kazuha | ★★★★★

600 mora/hr.

All expenses must be covered by you.

Maximum of 10 hours per day.

Available overtime events as well as holidays. Prices may vary

No gender preference.

Best compatibility: Venti, Lyney

Looking for a soft boyfriend? Are you trying to learn poetry? Perhaps working on poetry? Look no further than Kazuha! He's a new addition to the Genshin Boyfriends but you'd never know if we hadn't told you beforehand.

Kazuha has a more artistic side to him that he loves to show off. As a former wanderer, he's got plenty of stories for inspiration. Are you looking to maybe take a hike? He's definitely ready for one! Maybe you'd just like to find a field and lay down in it. Kazuha knows some great places already! He's both soft spoke and a gentle soul. If you need to vent or are looking for advice, we recommend no one other than Kazuha!

"I know what the description says, but I also love to try new things. If you want a partner for that, I'm happy to be one. You don't need to try anything new alone."

Even though he's new, Kazuha's quite popular and will often be booked months in advance. As he's said before, he loves trying new things and is happy to do that with someone else. Do you wanna go skydiving for the first time with a boyfriend but don't have one? Kazuha! Do you wanna go swimming with sharks for the first time? Kazuha! Maybe you're looking to rent a boyfriend for the first time but don't know who would be best for you. Kazuha!

Shikanoin Heizou | ★★★★☆

500 mora/hr.

All expenses must be covered by you.

Maximum of 6 hours per day.

Available for some overtime events; not ALL holidays. Prices may vary

No gender preference.

Best compatibility: Kaeya, Cyno

Ever wanted to say that you dated a detective? Maybe you're looking to spice up your boring choices in partners! Heizou is at your service. He's intelligent, a great fighter, and has quite the silver tongue. He has a mischievous side to him and loves to get into a bit of trouble.

Worry not, you'll never be in any true danger, but if you're looking to get your blood pumping, Heizou might be able to do that. If you don't have a date idea, worry not. He does and he'll make every penny worth it! Though, if you'd like something a bit slower, Heizou doesn't mind taking you to some of the spots he likes to relax in. You two can sit and talk to just get to know one another before going out and doing something. He's very flexible in this case!

"Don't be shy, take a chance on me. If you're a true crime junkie, I'm basically your soulmate."

Believe it or not, Heizou's never gotten in trouble before for any of this. It's not like he brings his renters to the crime scenes or shows them anything like that, but he's got plenty of stories. He's also more playful and is the best recommended for any renters looking for an adventure! Unlike Kaeya, Heizou never forgets a face. Ever.

Cyno | ★★★★★

800 mora/hr.

All expenses must be covered by you.

Maximum of 5 hours per day.

Overtime events only include birthdays and must be under 12 hours. Prices may vary

No gender preference.

Best compatibility: Heizou, Xiao, Venti

Are you a lover of "bad jokes"? Are you looking for a more serious boyfriend? Do you want someone who can strike fear into the hearts of criminals? Look no further than Cyno!

Though Cyno has a serious side to him, he's a lover of jokes and reverts to them to relieve tension. He's got a wide array so there won't be any repeats. If you're ever sad, he'll bring out his best and hope that at least one of them puts a smile on your face.

"Why are pigs good valets? They're excellent parallel porkers. Get it? Instead of using the word park, they used-"

Cyno actually joined the agency as a joke. Yet, somehow, he managed to get to the top extremely quickly. For all the Sumeru Boyfriends, he often takes first place. He's also stolen first place from Wriothesley in the April popularity poll. He was tempted to quit but was begged to stay and... well, now he finds a type of joy in pretending to be boyfriend. Not at all what he expected the day he joined. Cyno is also great at memorizing names and faces. Once you go on a date with him, he won't forget you and will even make it a thing to greet you as if you two have been dating for a while and he just hasn't seen you in a while.

Alhaitham | ★★★★☆

700 mora/hr.

All expenses must be covered by you.

Maximum of 6 hours per day.

Available for most overtime events as well as holidays. Prices may vary

No gender preference.

Best compatibility: Baizhu, Wriothesley

Is there a test coming up that you didn't study for? Did you fall asleep in class and miss an entire lecture and now you don't know how to do that Statistics assignment? Well, look no further than Alhaitham!

He's the smartest we got and is the best tutor you'll ever find. From being eye candy to intelligent as hell, there isn't a subject he can't help teach. Do not make that chemistry joke with him, he will be disappointed.

Alhaitham knows the best way to increase work productivity and will help you get through your day with any type of work you have. He knows when to take breaks and will always have the perfect snacks prepared. Just make sure you can keep up with his strict routine!

"If you need help, just ask for it. I wouldn't want you to fail your classes."

!! Not the best with romance !!

While he's not good with the romance aspect of being a boyfriend, he's very good with studying. He often finds himself busiest during finals weeks and will limit his time with everyone to just three hours per day. These are the days where he's working from morning to night and only has enough time to sleep. He's very good at tutoring and often receives letters and gifts of thanks afterwards. He can still do dates and such (maybe a study date) or just a regular one, but he tends to be more awkward in that sense as he's not very used to it. Over time, he's learned a good way to reward the renters. Kisses on their cheeks tend to help a lot. He'll also let you take short naps on his lap and will even massage your shoulders if needed while you work.

Wriothesley | ★★★★★

1200 mora/hr.

All expenses must be covered by you.

Maximum of four consecutive days for a total of 96 hours.

Only available for special events currently.

No gender preference

Best compatibility: Alhaitham, Baizhu

Are you looking for a duke who's great at fighting and was a prison administrator? What a coincidence, we have the perfect man for you! Wriothesley. While his name may be as confusing to pronounce as Worcestershire sauce, his companionship is just a legendary! He's charismatic, loves tea, can totally teach you how to fight, and has a voice as smooth as butter.

Wriothesley is tall, dark haired, and has been voted the most popular in the last four polls in a row! His intelligence and prowess speak for themselves and don't let anyone stop you from hiring him!

Need to scare off a trashy ex? Just looking for a handsome man to hold your hand as you walk down the street? Attending a wedding where everyone keeps pestering you to find a person to settle down with? Wriothesley's got you covered. He's great at memorizing family names, faces, and titles. He'll impress your family and get them off your back for good.

"Come and fall in love with me. I'll make it worth your time."

As stated above, Wriothesley has won the popularity poll for four months in a row and continues to dominate. While he's lost the position to others such as Kazuha, Xiao, and Cyno, he holds no bad blood between them and is often hired alongside another for the same renter. Due to his increasing popularity, he is the most expensive Boyfriend to rent BUT has made exceptions before. He's also a great choice to hire for a friend to surprise them as "their boyfriend for the day". He's a fast learner and yes, you will fall in love with this man. Come to terms with it before you hire him.

Lyney | ★★★★☆

650 mora/hr.

All expenses must be covered by you.

Maximum of 8 hours per day. Works later hours as well.

Available for most events as well as holidays. Prices may vary

No gender preference

Best compatibility: Venti, Xiao, Kazuha

Ever wanted a private magic performance? Wanna see what it's like to date a magician? Look no further than our very own Lyney! Hailing from the land of water, Fontaine, he is a renowned magician!

Expect plenty of surprises as Lyney loves to catch people off guard. He tends to prefer simple dates, but grand ones are welcome if you insist. He is willing to teach you some small tricks, but most of them he won't reveal. Is he trying to steal your heart? Yeah, he definitely is.

If you're feeling sad or lonely, feel free to hire Lyney. He's willing to work late (meaning you can hire him at 10pm if you want) and he'll be at your doorstep within the hour.

Lyney is one of the few, other than Baizhu and Alhaitham, who are willing to work later in the day. Normally, most prefer to be hired earlier in the day so they have time to prepare and such before going on the date. Baizhu, Lyney, and Alhaitham are the few who can be hired after 8pm when most are unavailable. Lyney often brings some sort of gift with him, and like Cyno and Heizou, he's great at remembering faces.

[galacticgraffiti]

⋆☾⋆ Big Love Ahead ⋆☽⋆

!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!

Summary: Halsin rescues you after you get hurt in a fight, and you get to spend some time with him during the spring and summer months as he nurses you back to health. And maybe, you start to wonder what it would be like if his hands touched you for different reasons than just to heal you…

Rating: Mature/Explicit (for horny nudity not smut) Wordcount: 4.5k Descriptors: The first two chapters are fairly genderneutral. Reader's physique is not really described aside from being quite a bit shorter and smaller than Halsin. CW: Fluff, softness, (physical) hurt/comfort, being nursed back to health by Halsin, pet names, this is achingly sweet, flirting, banter, oblivious pining, rated explicit for the eventual smut in chapters to come

✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦

⋆༻༺⋆༺༻⋆••●••⋆༺༻⋆༻༺ ⋆

Chapter 1: The Druid

He is the one who finds you.

Heavy footsteps make the earth vibrate beneath you, then soft fur presses against your bloodied cheek. You let it happen only because you can’t escape. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, if you are honest with yourself, and you are quite sure this is just a dream.

Surely, it must be a dream, right? To be lifted, not by paws but big, strong hands, to be carried out of that violent grove that nearly became your grave. To be placed upon the softest thing you have ever felt, and to see skin turn into fur once more as he lays beside you. Surely, a dream.

You close your eyes, and you drift off.

*****

When you wake up, you are disoriented beyond all hells, and alone.

Your entire body aches, but when you look down, you see that all your wounds have been mended and wrapped in neat bandages. Some of them smell of forest and herbs, others of things you have no words for describing.

Sitting up makes your head spin, so you decide to close your eyes again. Just… for a moment.

*****

It’s night when you wake up, though once you think about it, you are not sure how you know. Was it this dark the last time you woke up? You think there was some light - you saw the bandages, you could see the shape of your body beneath the sheets… But now, there is just darkness, so black it scares you, heavy like a blanket made from a thousand deaths.

Your heart starts to race, and you feel yourself breaking out in sweats as you think about your lost friends - all of them laying bloodied and broken on the battlefield like dolls, with slit throats and arrows in their hearts.

You groan in pain when you sit up, and the edges of your vision start to blur.

“Careful, now.”

The voice startles you. It comes from the opposite end of whatever room you are in, too far away for you to reach out and touch, and even with all your squinting, you can’t see anyone. Your fingers grip the sheets tightly.

“Who are you? Why did you bring me here?” Your voice is scratchy and raw, and your throat burns from the dryness. You cough, doubling over as you try to inhale some air to fill your desperate lungs.

“Shh, don’t die on me now, little flower.” 

The voice is much closer now, and out of habit, your hand slides down your thigh to where you usually keep your knife. It’s not there - of course it’s not, you are not wearing anything more than you’d need to guarantee the smallest amount of decency.

Panic rises in your chest, a sour taste coating your tongue.

“Who are you?” You repeat, out of breath from those few words.

“I saved you.” A flame is lit only a few feet away from you, and your eyes hurt from the sudden light. You squint, trying to get used to it. All you can see is the faint silhouette of a… man. A broad-backed man, taller than you have ever seen, with long hair and a gentle face. Pointed ears peek out from beneath soft curls, and you stare at him. 

An elf? With this… frame? Who the hells is this guy?

He looks at you calmly, patiently waiting for your reaction.

“Saved me?” The question makes you cough again. A hand appears in front of your face, offering you a waterskin. You accept it without much hesitation - what choice do you have? If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now.

The water hurts as much as it helps - cool and fresh as it runs down your dry throat. You take a few careful sips and damn near end up coughing your lungs out again. The hand takes the water away from you gently.

“That’s enough for now. Slow down, or you’ll make yourself sick.” His voice speaks more of concern than command. You let go, pressing back into your little corner.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you say finally. “Who are you?”

The man steps back into the shadows, his back turned to you. He is scarred and marked in ways only people from the wilds ever are, and that calms you a little. He is not a soldier.

“Rest for now,” he says. “We will talk when you wake again.”

You want to object, but large, warm hands press you down into your soft bedding again and pull the blanket up over your shoulders. Your eyes flutter closed - you are tired, so tired still. Distantly, you wonder how much time has passed since the grove.

“Wait,” you whisper, your hand finding his larger one in the dark. Your fingers curl weakly.

“What is it? Something you need?” Once again, his only feeling seems to be concern.

You slowly shake your head and regret the motion immediately when you taste blood on your tongue.

“No, I don’t- just… thank you.”

He stills in your weak grasp. Moments pass, then finally, his voice comes again, sounding oddly sad.

“You are welcome, little one.”

*****

You find a rhythm after that, sleeping and waking. Sometimes he’s around, sometimes he is not. You realise that the supposed room you are in is little more than a cave decked out in some essentials.

After a few days, you finally learn his name: Halsin.

Halsin looks after you, and you don’t question why. He does not talk much, but the look on his face never makes you doubt that the only thing he wants is for you to get better.

You drink more water, and after a few days, Halsin finally allows you to eat: Stew, not much, fed to you by his large hand holding a spoon that seems much too small for him.

When the food stays down, Halsin allows you to eat more and more, and you get some of your strength back. Your body still hurts, but all your bones seem to be in the right place - though some are definitely still broken, as you discover when you try to lay on your side.

Some days after you first remember waking up, you manage to sit up all by yourself and your fingers can hold the spoon for the first time. Halsin watches you carefully, whittling away as you eat a bowl of stew. And another. And another.

“Someone was hungry,” he smiles.

“Hungry as a bear,” you grin. He furrows his brow. You swear his eyes seem golden, but it’s probably just the light of the fire. He stares into the darkness for a moment, then puts his knife to the side. Before you can ask him what is wrong, he is gone.

****

Halsin returns the next day, back to his usual self. You wouldn’t quite call it ‘chipper’, but none of the worry that graced his features yesterday seems to remain. You decide it is wisest not to ask about it. If there is something you need to talk about, he will tell you in time.

When Halsin tucks you into bed that night as has become his habit, you notice - not for the first time - how good he smells: Of fresh grass and summer rain, of wood and smoked leather. You become acutely aware that you yourself have not had a bath in quite some time.

“Halsin?” You bite your tongue, feeling awkward about asking.

“What is it?”

“Do you… well. I think I should take a bath.”

Halsin cocks his head. You can see the cogs in his head turning, behind his soft, round features. He crosses his arms, and your heart flutters at the sheer swell of his biceps. You shake your head to shoo the unwelcome thought away.

“Well. there is a stream close to the cave…” he says slowly.

You nod excitedly.

“Perfect! I can-”

“You are still very injured, little flower,” he interrupts you - not rudely, but firmly. “You can barely stand up, let alone walk all the way there. The stream is dangerous, and I do not want you injuring yourself-”

“Carry me, then,” you propose hastily, more in jest than anything else. A small smile tugs on the corners of Halsin’s eyes.

“You can’t stand on your own either, and only one of your arms has healed enough for you to wash yourself.” He quirks a brow. “Have you got a solution for that too, little one?”

“You can wash me,” you suggest, this time fully certain he will recognise the joke.

Halsin chuckles to himself and shakes his head.

“All that effort- for what? Your wounds are clean, and you are getting better every day. Have I not taken care of you? Is there something I missed? If you tell me-”

“You smell good,” you say before you can think about your words. Halsin’s eyes widen by the smallest fraction, but he stays quiet, so you drone on. “You smell like forest and fresh pine, and meanwhile, I have been wasting away in this cave for weeks now. I want to… I don’t know. I want to feel like less of a burden, I suppose. I want to feel like myself again.”

“Oh.” Halsin takes your hand, very gently, like a doctor calming his patient. It still makes your heart race. “You are not a burden. Taking care of you has been my privilege.”

“You’re sweet,” you whisper. Halsin lets go of you.

“Do you… do you think a bath would help you feel better?” he asks, his voice serious. “I know I don’t provide much entertainment-”

“I like it when you are around,” you admit quietly. “I like watching you whittle. Your presence calms me.”

At that, Halsin lets out a roaring laugh that takes you totally by surprise - so much so that you simply fall into laughing with him. You cannot grasp what he could be laughing about, but seeing him so happy - knowing you are the one who made him laugh - it makes your heart stumble.

“Fine,” Halsin says when he can breathe again. “Alright, little one, if a bath is what you want, a bath is what you shall get.”

*****

When he returns the next day, for the first time, you notice that you have no idea where he sleeps. He laughs the questions off as he looks over your various wounds and ailments.

These inspections have become a ritual that both excites and frightens you: It excites you because it means Halsin’s big hands on your body, stroking, nearly caressing, touching (almost) every inch of you. It frightens you because you are scared he will notice how much you like it. And it scares you to think that one day, there might not be anything for him to look at - and when your wounds are healed, where will you go?

 You scoot to the front of your makeshift bed when Halsin asks you to, dangling your feet over the edge. When he kneels between your thighs to examine a particularly deep cut in your upper thigh, it takes all your strength not to cup his jaw and ask him to kiss you.

You daydream yourself away - dream of the way his hands look on you, of the way the light bounces off his irises and makes it seem like they are glowing. You dream of his lips and how soft they might be against yours, and you try to remember that feeling when he first found you - the softness of fur - might it have been his hair?

“Alright,” Halsin declares, interrupting your yearning thoughts. 

“Alright?” you ask, looking down at him. He stands, suddenly towering over you. You swallow thickly.

“I think… it’s time for my little patient to have a bath.” He smiles and offers you his hand. You feel like you have been punched in the stomach when he calls you his patient. Is that all you are to him? Just some… girl he needs to heal? Someone he found and took responsibility for? Still, you take his hand and slide off the bed.

Your legs give in nearly the second they touch the ground, but Halsin’s strong arms are there to catch you. He lifts you like you weigh no more than a feather. His arms feel familiar, and comfortable, and like you could fall asleep in them forever and ever. You sigh happily and snuggle against his broad chest.

When you realise what you are doing, your eyes snap open, terrified of your own actions.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Halsin’s chest shakes against you.

“No need to apologise. I am happy you feel comfortable in my presence.”

“Mhhm.” You try to hide your face as best you can, lest he recognise the emotions that must be showing.

Halsin carries you carefully, stopping as you get closer to the light near the entrance of the cave.

“Close your eyes, little one. You haven’t been outside in quite a while, and the sun is bright today.”

You follow his instructions, pressing your eyes shut. The air smells fresh and sweet when he steps out of the cave, and the rays of sun that dance on your face warm you from the inside out. You blink carefully, lids still half closed as you take in your surroundings: The formation of rocks that makes up your cave, the meadow below you, the quiet gurgle of a stream behind a grove of trees.

“Oh.” The noise is barely more than a breath that escapes you, but when you look up at Halsin, a bright smile illuminates his features.

“Beautiful, is it not?”

“Yes!” you nod your head enthusiastically, too distracted by the beauty around you to notice the way Halsin’s eyes linger on your face.

“I am glad you think so.” His arms tighten around you for a moment as he adjusts his stance. “Are you feeling alright? The place I had in mind is not far.”

“I am wonderful,” you assure him, closing your eyes as you bask in the sun. You never noticed how much you missed all of this until now. Halsin’s company is the best you could imagine, but the cave gets lonely from time to time. You like being outside, hearing the birds sing again, watching the clouds that sail through the sky above.

“Right then,” Halsin nods. “Onwards we go.”

It really is not a long walk - it barely takes a minute. The quiet corner of the river is tucked between two bends, next to a big weeping willow. It’s warm outside, much warmer than you expected, and you dare to hope the water might not be ice cold.

Halsin stops right next to a small pool of water, set apart from the rest of the river by a few stones, carefully placed - much too neat to be a natural occurrence.

“I made a bath for you,” he says, sounding quite pleased with himself. “I knew you could never withstand the current, not in the shape you are in, and…”

You look up at him, awed by his care and affection.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Halsin smiles quietly.

“Whatever I can do to help, it’s my pleasure.” He points at the pool with his chin. “Do you think this will suffice?”

“Oh, it will more than suffice,” you nod, practically vibrating with excitement. Finally, after all this time, a bath. Feeling clean again. 

Halsin seems to consider something, his brow furrowed with concern.

“I did not think about… where to put you down.”

You look at him in confusion and he shrugs, your weight not even slowing his shoulders in the movement. Your heart leaps.

“I mean,” Halsin explains, averting his eyes from yours tactfully, “that you will have to undress before you get in. Now, as you may have noticed, I enjoy nature in all of her forms, but I know not everyone is so… inclined.”

You swear you see a blush creep into his cheeks. His eyes flashing golden in the sunlight. Your heart flutters when you finally understand what he is trying to tell you.

“Oh!” you exclaim then, wiggling in his arms. This could not go better if you had planned it. You didn’t even think of this when you asked for a bath, but oh dear, did fate give you a good hand today. “I don’t mind if you stay, Halsin.”

“I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He sounds almost like he is trying to convince himself. “I made that pool of water quite deep so you could sit in it, though it is shallow enough the sun should have warmed it up a bit…”

“I would jump into the ice seas if only it meant a chance for a bath,” you chuckle. You tug at Halsin’s arm. “Put me down, please.”

He sets you down on the ground so gently as if you could break. You find your footing after a moment, holding on to his big arm until your head stops spinning, waving him off when he bends down to look at you with concerned eyes.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Promise.”

Halsin stares at you, but he doesn’t drag you back to the cave, so you take that as a sign of faith. You take a deep breath and start peeling out of the few layers of fabric you have on you. Reaching for your bandages, you hesitate.

“Should I leave those on?” you ask. Halsin’s eyes snap up to yours, and you nearly giggle at the look on his face. He has the expression of a bear caught with his paw in the honeypot.

“Oh… no,” he answers finally. “You can take those off, I’ll put fresh ones on after your bath.”

“Mhhm. You take such good care of me.”

You start peeling the bandages from your maltreated body, dedicating all your energy to staying upright. Halsin’s eyes never leave you, roaming up and down your naked body, but you are far too focused on the task at hand to notice.

This is the longest you have been on your legs in weeks, and your thighs are already starting to burn. Quickly, you finish unwrapping yourself. Before you can figure out a plan of how to best get into the water, strong hands slip beneath your arms and lift you up.

You squeal with joy as Halsin slowly lowers you down into the water.

It’s warmer than you expect, yet still cold as all hells. Goosebumps rise on your body and you shiver. Halsin stops moving, you, halfway submerged, hanging limp in his arms.

“Are you alright?”

Your teeth are not exactly chattering, but it takes some effort to keep it that way.

“‘M fine,” you say. “It’s just… a b-bit cold. But I’m okay. You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d take the ice seas earlier.”

Laughter rumbles from Halsin’s chest like thunder. It makes you smile. He laughs so much more now than he used to.

“Fine. I’ll- just give me a moment.”

You are gently placed down in the pool, cold water up to your neck. Halsin makes a dissatisfied sound.

“Seems I overestimated your size, little flower.”

“Not hard to do when you’re this big,” you mumble, turning around to look up at him, gesturing at his silhouette that stands out against the sun- and stop. 

Your jaw nearly hangs open when you are faced with a nearly naked Halsin. You blink and shake your head, ready to believe that the cold may be causing hallucinations. Maybe you never woke up from your sickbed - maybe this is a dream. Maybe you died on the battlefield and this is Celestia.

Halsin sheds the last layers of clothing covering himself, and it’s all you can do not to say fuck me quite loudly. You bite your lip, but before you can even process the situation, Halsin has slipped into the self-made pool with you.

The water seems to heat up the second he is in there with you, his body so close to yours you could barely fit a leaf between the two of you. His eyes are bright gold in the sunshine, and he takes a deep breath, his chest expanding.

You stare and stare and hope you are not being all too obvious about it. Carefully, you take a step back only to slip on the muddy ground.

Halsin catches you easily, your body pressed against his, and you think that the water might start to boil any second now.

“Thanks,” you murmur, straightening up. His hand lets go of you as he takes a step back himself - the furthest he can go, even though there is stll barely space between you.

“Are you warm enough now?” he rumbles, sounding amused. There is a note of something else in his voice - a strain; not impatience, but something close to it. You press your hands to your sides awkwardly.

“Yeah… yeah, this is better. Thank-”

“No need to thank me.” Halsin interrupts you, abruptly turning around, away from you. The water that is up to your neck barely reaches halfway up his back. “I shall stay here so you don’t get sick on top of all your other injuries. Take all the time you need.”

You wish the water wasn’t so clear that you can see every detail of his backside. You wish his hair was not so soft, shining in the sun. You wish you could not see the muscles of his back ripple when he shifts, and that his shoulders would not look so perfectly round and juicy it makes your mouth water. You wish it was not so hard to avert your eyes.

A golden glitter in the water catches your eye. It travels up Halsin’s calf, his thigh. He shakes his head like he is swatting away flies, and the spark in the water fades.

What the hells was that?

You frown; but the water is winning you over. Your legs already hurt from standing, though the water makes the weight more bearable, and as much as you wish to stay here forever, tucked closely into your little corner of the world, feeling Halsin’s body next to yours, you have to admit you are feeling a little tired.

So, you get to work, scrubbing yourself down, dunking your head into the water and trying to extrapolate the filth from your hair. You are fairly certain Halsin must have at least wiped you down with a washcloth after rescuing you, since your body is not still covered entirely in guts and blood and dirt, but you have not had a proper bath in so long.

You sigh quietly as you wash your hair, your shoulders, your thighs, scrubbing and scrubbing until you feel raw in the best way. One of your arms hangs uselessly by your side, the bone on the mend but not healed, and soon, your other arm burns with exhaustion.

Halsin has not turned around to face you, though from his relaxed stance you are guessing he is probably basking in the sun with his eyes closed. You try and push through the pain and exhaustion, but eventually, you have to admit defeat.

“Halsin?” You tap his shoulder blade. A flash of light appears in the water, gone as soon as it came. His neck turns slightly.

“Yes?”

“Can you… help me?” you ask shyly. Finally, he turns around, his expression soft and controlled.

“What do you need help with, my angel?”

You shiver at the gravel in his voice, at the way he looks at you - with eyes burning, though you don’t dare to hope it may be desire. Maybe he is just getting impatient.

“I can’t reach,” you explain and point to your back. “Not with this arm, and-”

Large hands roam across your body, careful to avoid all the sore spots and healing wounds.

“Of course,” he grumbles. “Turn around.”

You blink up at him, then carefully spin around - you have learned your lesson from last time - holding onto the edge of the pool.

Halsin’s fingers are rough, but not in an uncomfortable way. His palms are soft when he slowly rubs small circles into your back, washing away dirt and grime, showering you in his attention and his care. You catch the golden sparkle in the water again, but when you twist to see, it is already gone again. It must be the sun.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the feeling of Halsin so close to you.

Something tightens in your belly at the way he touches you - the gentleness his large hands are capable of more than you can handle. The way his hands could so easily wrap around your waist makes your heart stumble.

Halsin’s hands glide up your back easily, up to your hairline, roaming across your shoulder blades, and back down, stopping just shy of the small of your back. A quiet moan escapes from your throat at the touch, and you stiffen. Halsin carries on as if nothing has happened.

Fine. If he can ignore it, then so can you.

You are fairly certain that you are clean at this point, but Halsin is not stopping on his own, and who would you be to tell him to stop? You close your eyes and relax into his touch, into the soft pads of his fingers that dig into your shoulders in just the right way, the warmth of his body that you can feel even through the water.

“Good,” he mumbles eventually, his hands vanishing from your back.. “I know you must be tired. Are you satisfied?”

With you? Never, you want to say. What comes out instead is a vague,

“Mmhhm.”

Halsin chuckles quietly.

“Oh, you are exhausted, my love. Come on, I will take you to bed.”

Your eyes are falling shut when he heaves himself out of the water, and you can’t even open your mouth to make a silly joke about being taken to bed by him. You could slap yourself for not being able to keep your eyes open - oh, to see him one more time, to take him in in all his glory in the fading light of the day. 

Halsin lifts you out of the water easily. A shiver runs through him that makes you crack your eyes open. His irises glow golden in the sinking sun, and you smile at the sight. He smiles back at you, wrapping you in cloth, and carries you back to your cave, and back to your bed.

You are half-asleep when your head hits the pillow, so you can’t even blame yourself when your voice asks sleepily:

“Will you stay here with me tonight?”

Halsin gently pulls his hand from your grasp.

“Not tonight, my angel,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek so softly you wonder if you imagined it. “But I’ll be right outside should you need me.”

⋆༻༺⋆༺༻⋆••●••⋆༺༻⋆༻༺ ⋆

» Next Chapter

Hello my darlings! I have been consumed whole by BG3 and the big bear man, so I hope you enjoy! (Lmk if you want to not be tagged in this little series, I'm just going to tag my usuals)

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[deepestnightcolor]

☾ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: I am already back with a new fic for Sam. I am in a groupchat with some amazing people and I decided to write some ideas out that were thrown around. I hope you enjoy! Maybe I will do Alex or Elliott next... Anyway, thank you so much for your time! ✧

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Reader (afab)

ᴡᴄ: 3884 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, doggy style, cursing, unportected sex, drooling, exhibitionism, public setting, teasing, creampie, hornyness all around.

Sam’s mouth was watering, and the sole reason for it was you. Sam had fallen in love with you the moment you had stepped foot into Pelican Town yet had never managed to utter a single word about it. But now, the blonde was absolutely hammered, and that allowed him to shamelessly stare at you. Pupils blown, chest heaving and falling quickly, his eyes were focused on your ass while you were bent over the pool table, focused on your next shot in your game with Sebastian. The only thing that kept him from dropping on his knees and begging to be allowed to suck on those slender fingers wrapping around the cue was the fact that he still wasn’t sure if you liked him back.

When you wiggled your butt a little, a small groan passed his lips. It was desperate, and rough, making the attention of the room fall on him. “Are you okay, Sam?” You asked, worry in your voice. “Yeah…yeah…Yeah, ‘m fine… just gonn…you need help, dontcha? Winnin’ against Seb, I mean,” he slurred, pushing himself up on his legs, steadying himself using the pool table. Sebastian cocked his pierced brow; Sam sucked at pool when he wasn’t drunk, and now he was absolutely shitfaced. What help could he be?

Sam placed himself right behind you, pressing his crotch against you a bit, hoping – no, praying – that you didn’t catch on that he only did that to feel you against his growing buldge.

Though you were a smart girl. The feeling of his erection didn’t go unnoticed, but you kept up your pokerface. “I guess I could use a little help,” you murmured, voice coated in innocence. You leaned forward, smiling up at the oblivious Sebastian. “Sorry, I told you I haven’t played in ages,” you explained, directing the black-haired man’s attention back to the game. He shrugged nonchalantly, waving off your comment and watching you adjust the cue, but Sam had seemingly become hyper focused. He leaned over you, shaking hand gripping your wrist. He was so close, so close to you. He could smell you and feel you. If his mouth was watering before, now it was drooling. He had dreamed of this so often, having you bent over under him, and now he had, and you didn’t even notice his ulterior motives.

A thought that was disproved when he felt it. You pressed your ass against him, circling your hips just ever so slightly to cause friction. An accident? Sam didn’t care. The whine that slipped couldn’t be caught anymore; the despair obvious. The need to beg for you to at least let him feel you for one night, even just a single hour, maybe just put the tip in you if that was all you wanted to give, hanging onto his tongue by a thread. The only thing that kept him from speaking was a pair of attentive eyes that were placed on him.

„Ugh, drunk like that? It’s best he sleeps on the couch here, Jodi’s gonna flip otherwise… and I doubt I can drag his drunk ass up the mountain.”

“‘S…’s a bad position,“ Sam slurred in a weak attempt to explain himself, but he didn’t even really care. He cared about you, boxed in-between his wobbly arms. He could lean down, kiss your neck, suck on it. Leave his wet marks all over you – and who would stop him? “He’s right,” you mused, shifting yet again. This time you rubbed your ass from side to side as if to figure out how to stand, making sure to add pressure against his dick. Sam was creaming in his pants by now, his knees wobbling as he lowered his head. He licked his lips, hot breath hitting your neck.  The goosebumps that appeared made him want to drool all over you, but still, he cleared his throat and guided you into a sloppy shot. Trying to stay strong, not to make it too obvious. But fuck, your gentle grinding into his cock, the way you pressed into him – he swore his cock was about to burst right then and there for you, and if you kept it up, he’d cum in his pants in the saloon.

“Damn, Sam. You wanted to help her win, not make her lose. Maybe you should step back,” Sebastian grunted, an obvious edge to his voice, yet he would have never expected his best friend to actually growl at him in return. That was the only way the sound that radiated through the blonde’s chest could be described; it was deep and rough, almost threatening. Possessive, even.

While it shocked the other man, it sent a shock straight through your whole body. It was enough for you to put your cue away and stand up straight, giving Sebastian a small smile. “I think it’s time we get Sammy boy here to sleep.”

Perfect.

“I’ll take him to the farm, then. Until our ways part we are about halfway there, you can help me drag him.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically, but put the cue away, which probably signalled his agreement, or at least you decided to take it as such.

Both of you draped one of Sam’s arms over your shoulders and made the strenuous way up to your farm, Sebastian stubbornly staring ahead, while Sam was slumped between you. His cheeks were red, but the way you looked at him made him wheeze. The look that he gave you, so lustful and horny, eyes drowning in need, made your legs buckle every now and then, straining a grunt from Sebastian that now had to basically drag two whenever you did. “You sure you want him on your farm? I can stay over-“

“No,“ you interrupted, flashing him a quick, reassuring smile. “You’ve got to work with Robin tomorrow, and she will freak out if you’re not there. Besides, I have a guard dog, and if this fella acts up, he’ll be sent to the doghouse.”

Sebastian smiled a little and nodded, the thought of Sam sleeping in a small hut clearly bemusing him. Smacking his friend on the back, which almost sent the poor boy tumbling over, Sebastian turned. „Behave, you hear? Or I gotta whoop your ass.” With that and a wave, he began to make his way home.

Silence.

“So…,” you began when Sebastian’s silhouette had blended into the deep night, looking at the blonde hanging onto your shoulder. “What was all that about?”

“All…hicc… what about?”

“In the bar. You drooled on my neck.”  

Sam giggled at that, tilting his head back as his laugh became deeper. “Yea…that-…that probably was ‚cause I really fuckin‘ love you…an‘…an‘ cum in my fist every night thinkin‘ of fuckin…fucking you.”

If that wasn’t drunken honesty, you didn’t know what else would be. “But  I didn’t know hoooow to tell youuuu. So, don’t tell on me, m’kay? Don’t want ya to..hate me, ya know.”

Chuckling quietly, you pushed a strand of hair out of his, face, dragging your lower lip between your teeth. “You know who you’re talking to, right”

“Mh..course. My little farmer princess.”

“And you know what I did to you in the bar?”

“Mhhhhm. Was so close to cummin‘. Still…still am.”

“Do you know what could mean, Sam?”

“That… you suck even more at pool than me?”

You snorted, head tipping back as you laughed. Yoba, he wanted to lick down your throat, down your body, devour your cunt. He wanted to taste you so, so bad. He could have bet that you had the prettiest pussy he would ever lay eyes on, and he would make sure to worship it. With slow licks, the fast ones, by spelling his name on your clit and with your legs over his shoulder so he could get into as much contact as possible.

“No, Sam. I’m into you. I have been for a while. Didn’t you ever notice me flirting? Not even when I told you you should show me what else those fingers can do than play guitar.”

You could literally see the corks in Sam’s head reeling, trying to connect the dots of the information that had just been relied to him. “So…ya…like me back?”

You rolled your eyes, deciding that in this state, only actions seemed to count for Sam. Words took too long to process. You leaned down to kiss the man deeply - an opportunity he leaped at. His tongue immediately dragged over your lips, coating them with the taste of alcohol. The moan that left you was to his advantage, he shoved his tongue into your mouth clumsily, letting it run over yours, licking at it as if he was starving. His hands had found your body for support to stop himself from swaying back and forth. “Need ya…need ya so bad. This kay?“ He slurred against your mouth, pretty blue eyes staring at you, begging you without words.

You bit your lip and tried to steady Sam again, “Come on, let’s get to the farm, we can…we can-„ Sam’s mouth hit yours again, his teeth sinking into your lips gently. You moaned again, tugging at his hair, but your surroundings made you pull away and tug at him him. “Let’s get to the farm, I need you,” you ordered, setting a rather fast pace for drunken Sam.

He whined, begged and pleaded, but in the end, he strolled with you, legs buckling and wobbling, and the lack of blood in his brain seemed to make the short path to your house even longer. The fabric of his clothes rubbed against his buldge so uncomfortably, and the way your hips swayed when you walked brought him close to tears. He wanted you. He had wanted you for so long, he couldn’t wait any longer.

The moment you reached the bus stop, Sam dropped to his knees, almost making you fall over due to the sudden weight shift. “Sam! What are you doing?”

“Fuck…fuck, please. ‘M beggin’ you. ‘M so fuckin’ hard…it hurts so bad…shit, you look so pretty for me,” he gasped, rutting against his hand that he had rested in his lap. The moonlight hit you so perfectly…you looked so amazing. Amazing enough for him to throw his head back, now gripping his length through his clothes. “Pretty please,“ he added, helplessly looking up at you. You bit your lower lip again, your own knees growing weak. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs, and it was hard for you to not just let him have his way with you.

“But what if anyone is gonna see us? We can’t risk being caught. It’s not that far anymore…”

“No! No one will see us!” Sam cried, “I promise…promise I’ll be quick. I’ll be quiet. Anythin‘, princess. Pretty please. I beg you. Please. I’ll be good. Just…please.”

You seriously doubted the value of a completely horny, drunk and in love person’s opinion, but before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees, kissing Sam sloppily.

The blonde immediately pounced on you, pressing his crotch into yours, his hands seemingly everywhere. “So pretty,” he panted against you, kissing down your jaw, down your neck, and then he already lapped at your throat. You seemingly felt him everywhere at once, making you moan out lowly.  That only urged Sam on more. He wanted more. He wanted to hear you, smell you, taste you, feel you. He wanted you. No, he needed you.

“You know how often I’ve dreamed of fucking you?”

It was just a murmur against your neck on which he greedily sucked. “How often I’ve dreamed of holdin‘ you in my arms? Pretty baby, makin‘ you all mine.”

Sam had seemingly sobered up a little but that didn’t help much – he was was already intoxicated by you again.

He tugged at your pants and at his at the same time, trying to get them both off at the same time, causing you to laugh out breathlessly. He gave up his attempt and back, licking over his lips.

“Need you so bad,” he repeated while he unbuckled his belt, struggling out of his pants.

You licked your lips and opened the button to your pants much slower, pushing them down your long legs centimetre by centimetre. Blue eyes were glued on you; Sam’s mouth hung open as he watched you, tongue hanging out just slightly. He was pretty sure you could see his dick throb against his already wet boxers, but fuck, who cared? He sure didn’t. The hunger in his eyes made you shiver, no man had ever looked at you like he did, and you were sure he was already fucking you in his head.

“The panties,” he stammered, making you grin to yourself. “The panties. Please, princess. Take them off. You’re so wet already, fuck, please, I- am pretty sure I’m gonna die if you don’t.”

“You mean these?” You teased, gripping at the waistband and letting it snap against your hips. The blonde groaned, the force of the sheer lust hitting him almost making him drop forward again.

“You want them off?”

He nodded, eyes yet again filled with tears. “Yoba, please, yes…need…need to see your pussy.”

“Then take them off.”

Sam was incredibly quick to move, much quicker than you had deemed in the range of possibility, he did have a lot of drinks, but he was on top of you the moment you gave the go. He pushed your shirt upwards and messily pulled your breasts from your bra, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He trailed his tongue around it, before switching sides, his hand trailing towards your panties already. He let his finger glide along your slit over the fabric, growl escaping him upon feeling your wet spot. “All that teasing gotcha wet, huh?” He hissed, biting your nipple gently before he slowly licked down your cleavage, staying in-between your breasts for a moment longer, just inhaling deeply and leaving his love bites. You smelled so good, so sweet; it was hard to not get lost in his in his need. However, after a moment he picked up his journey again and licked down your stomach, until he finally reached the hem of your panties.

The night air began to fill with moans that tumbled out of your mouth, the eagerness you were treated with leaving your cunt pulsing. By now you felt a need similar to Sam’s, making you pretty sure you needed him all over you to ever think properly again, even though right now, you were far from it. He let his fingers run up to your exposed chest, gripping your nipples between pointer finger and thumb and rolling them gently. “Lift your butt,” he ordered, almost smiling to himself when you did. He gripped the lace of your panties with his teeth, slowly tugging them down. You shuddered when the cold night air hit your hot wetness, and Sam moaned lowly upon seeing your cunt.“ Look how beautiful. Such a sweet little cunt…all for me, isn’t it? All for my cock and me,” he rambled, having to sit back on his heels for a moment. The beauty of your almost naked body had him dangerously close to the edge, and he would have forever hated himself if his own dick cockblocked him right now.

“Sam-“

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty baby.”

You sucked in air through your teeth, eyes dragging down his body. He was hard as a rock, and you were sure his boxers were about to rip, so you slowly settled on your hands and knees. Maybe it was also because you just needed to be absolutely stuffed with cock.

You tried to wait patiently, even though your own need made that incredibly hard, but you couldn’t risk getting Sam distracted. His gaze seemed to burn holes into your back, making you shift around on your knees. Then you finally heard shifting and the gentle sound of skin smacking against skin.

“You are so ready for me, baby,” he murmured, his fingers spreading your drooling lips slowly. One of them pushed inside of you, low groan falling from his lips. He curled his finger and then thrusted it knuckle-deep, breathing in sharply upon feeling you basically pulling him in. You were so wet and warm… and he could finally get his dick into you. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to be ripped apart by the feelings tumbling around inside of him, and you were the only thing on this whole planet that would ease this ache he had for you.

You felt his finger leave you and whined, wiggling your ass in the air. Much to your surprise, a hand came down on your butt, forcing you to yelp out Sam’s name. “Teasin‘ me all night already,” he slurred, pressing his tip against your soaked hole. “And it worked…”

With that, he slowly pushed himself inside of you and the world seemed to disappear.

All he could hear was static, and the sound of his own heartbeat, mixing with your moans. He was pretty sure the world could explode and he wouldn’t have blinked an eye. All he could think about was how good you felt; despite only having the tip in, you sucked him in deeper already.

“This okay?”

You nodded eagerly, pushing back against his dick in a desperate attempt to get more. Yoba, you needed more. This time it was you that wanted to cry and beg for him, but Sam seemed to pick up your silent prayers.

His hips shoved forward eagerly; it seemed like your walls were made for his cock. You fit so snuck around him, cunt welcoming him with a wet sound. The two of you moaned and you had to rest your head on your arms to keep at least your butt up in the air for Sam, the promise of being quite long forgotten. Centimetre by centimetre Sam pushed inside of you, making sure to take his time, to really split you in two for him and only him. One of his hands was resting firmly on your hip, the other cupping one of your breasts. When he was balls deep inside of you, he abruptly stopped, his penis twitching violently inside of you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had just had his orgasm, and when you turned around you could see his eyes watering. You were about to ask, yet the thought was immediately cut off when Sam pulled back and rammed back into you.

Suddenly you could feel the weight of his upper body on your own as he angled himself to get better access to your sweet cunt.

“Mine, all mine,” Sam panted into your ear as he began to pick up a fast pace, humping you like an animal in heat. The sound of his balls smacking against your wet pussy and the way his pelvic bone hit your bare ass created sounds lewd enough for anyone within a kilometre to know what was happening. Neither of you cared.

You were a moaning mess beneath the blonde, and he was whimpering, close to sobbing your name. Sam sucked on your neck to mark you up, keep you away from dirty, greedy eyes such as his own, his cock bullying into you at a fast pace; your walls sucking him off so well. His eyes rolled in the back of his head when he felt you clench around him as he began to gently circle your clit.

“Like that, huh? Like when…I do this?” He snarled, licking his lips and kissing down your spine; a task that was rather hard given that his hard thrusts made your whole body shake.

“Sam!” You sobbed, trying to meet his thrusts desperately as if you just couldn’t get enough, and Sam was happy to deliver. He pressed you into his body and fucked into you as if his life depended on it, tongue hanging out and droplets of saliva falling on your back.

You swore you could see little fairies dance around you when Sam hit your sweet spot, this combined with his relentless spelling of his name on your clit made you approach the edge with fast steps.

Sam wasn’t much better – he was staring at his thick perverted cock vanishing into your pussy, spreading open your sweet little hole with each thrust. He loved to see how he forced wetness out of you with each thrust, and he swore to himself he’d make you cream.

“Sam, fuck, Sam! I’m gonna cu-cum!” You cried, the thought of if you could maybe wake someone with your needy cries for dick crossed your mind, but it quickly turned into arousal. You would love for people to hear how well Sam was fucking you, how mean he was to your cunt, snapping his hips back and forth mercilessly, accompanied by the sound of his skin smacking against your reddened ass that by now was sporting a red handprint. 

“Gonna cum, Sam, gonna cum!” You slurred, feeling his wet tongue trace patterns down the side of your neck again. White light flashed in front of your eyes, your toes curled up as you felt your face growing numb.

What the two of you didn’t notice was the text from Sebastian’s number that made the screens of your phones light up. Nice show. Make it less obvious that you want to fuck next time or send me videos so I can rewatch.

Sam’s whimpers and small groans had turned into dragged out whines, adoring how you let him fuck you out here near the bus stop. He wanted people to hear you. Show them you were his and his alone. He would have loved for each of the guys to see him ruining you, so they’d keep their hands off. Seeing how his cock vanished inside of you with each thrust, how his precum and your juices were mixing together, dribbling down his shaft. The thought of them seeing you sprawled out and crying for him and the feeling of you drooling all over his throbbing dick, begging for more was enough to push him over the edge.

His body tensed up, a cry of sheer pleasure was being bellowed into the night as his orgasm washed over him, his cock pressed deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum inside of you was too much. You sobbed his name, fingers wrapping around strands of grass as your body convulsed, the numbness that caught up to you soothing as you clenched around your lover’s dick, making it hard for Sam to move. The blonde gritted his teeth, his thrusts slowly slowing down as he hung his head; his breathing hard and laboured

You were lying beneath him, panting as well as your hand slowly searched for his. Upon finding it, you intertwined your fingers, and for a moment you two just sat there, Sam’s dick still buried inside of you, your hands interlocked.

“Round two when we reach the farm?” You whispered after a while, despite having his cum drip out of you as he pulled back slowly, making Sam smile like a lovesick puppy.

“Round two when we reach the farm.”

[ellieslittlewh0re]

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 1 - part 2 - part 3

pairing - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - ellies willpower gets tested

additional tags - shy/loser! ellie, promiscuous! but inexperienced reader, masturbation/wet dream mention, cowboy boot wearing els, eventual smut, sexual tension, mutual pinning blah blah blah

───── ☾•┈୨♡୧┈•☽ ─────

You stirred in your sleep, darkness still cast over the sky. You tossed and turned, trying to get a couple more hours of sleep in before the day started, but you couldn't- the aching in your tummy growing harder to ignore.

You push your hips further down into the pillow that sat between your thighs, grinding down on it. A soft whimper seeps through your lips, growing more desperate.

Imagines of Ellie that last time you saw her clouded your unaware mind, sweat gleamed her cheeks, slightly red from the sunburn, and how she ditched the button-up, leaving her in a white tank top stained with dirt and rust.

In your sleepy fog, you turn over on your tummy, holding the pillow in place beneath you. Your nightgown bunched up from your rustling, settling around your waist, leaving your white cotton panties exposed to the moon.

"Mm-fhm e-ellie." You whimper, drool pooling onto your floral pattern sheets beneath you.

You looked pathetic, humping your pillow, eyes still shut, and a cease between your eyebrows. It was lazy and sloppy, but it's not your fault since you were still technically sleeping, having a wet dream about your daddy's little helper.

It was deprived and sick. I mean, you've only just met her, and you've never even had sex before, so what's so special about some girl you barely knew?

Your head didn't know, but your body did. You craved her- in a fucked up sort of primal way, the same way animal instincts work during the spring, eager to find a mate and reproduce.

You felt empty, and only she could fix that.

-

The morning greeted you how it always did, sunshine flooding your window and the songs of birds ringing loudly outside.

You rub your eye with the back of your hand, looking around slightly confused. You don't remember what you did, the sheets in disarray more than usual, and the damp patch in your panties seemed to help you remember.

"Shit." You mumble, stumbling out of bed and tugging your panties down and over your legs. You dig through your drawer, pulling out a clean pair as your fathers voice called to you from the bottom of the stair.

"Y/n, I need to run into town, I'll be back in a few hours. Ellie's here in case anything happens."

Even though you were technically an adult- your father never liked to leave you home alone for too long- too scared of something happening to his precious daughter.

"Okay~" you yell back in a sing-songy tone- basically, it was your best attempt to sound like you weren't as panicked as you were.

You change your clothes, throwing on some denim shorts and a cropped baby tee since you were too tired for "first impressions" bullshit.

You make your way down the stairs, the soft pattering of your socks went unnoticed to the unaware Ellie who was standing in the living room, observing the collage of pictures that decorated the walls.

"Good morning, Ellie."

Your soft, slightly groggy voice made her turn around. Her eyes immediately take notice of the lack of a bra under your thin shirt and the strip of skin showing between the bottom hem of your top and the waistband of your shorts.

"M-mornin', doll." She clears her throat, looking back to the pictures to hide the fact she was absolutely falling apart in your presence.

You however, we're better at hiding it than she was. It was painfully obvious that Ellie was worked up about something, and you knew it was you.

You were kind of used to it- the admiration, that is, being in such a small town, the pickings were slim, and it just so happens that everyone in town agreed that you were by far the prettiest thing on this side of the Mississippi River.

"Have you eaten?" You asked, already passing under the archway into the kitchen and pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

"Uh- no, not yet."

Ellie follows your lead like a dog, making her way into the kitchen to sit in a barstool that over saw the kitchen, giving her a first row view of all your movements.

"Good- let me make you breakfast, I can make a mean pancake."

Ellie stutters to interfere, not wanting to bother you to do such a thing for her, but you insist- claiming she needed some meat on her bones.

You even poured her a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice since she refused the coffee.

Ellie's face was bright red upon seeing you all done up, "real housewife type," she thought. Your little apron hanging loosely around your neck, the strings wrapping around your waist, accentuating the curve of your hips just right, and how your hair danced over your back as you mixed the batter.

She could get used to this- seeing you every day and the little outfits you wore that made her head spin. She ached for you the same way you ached for her, but she'd never let herself give into her desires, not unless- you gave in first. 

"What did daddy need to go into town fr'?" You asked, placing the plate in front of Ellie before sitting down beside her on the empty barstool.

Ellie observes the plate, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the amount of food- a stack of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and not forgetting the bacon, of course.

She thought, for a second, you were trying to kill her or give her a heart attack at the very least.

"Uh- said something about needing some parts for the tractor-" She picks up the fork and knife and begins to cut into the food.

"Thank you, doll, you didn't have to do all this for me."

"Hush- don't you start, I did it because I wanted too." You smile at her, taking a bite of your pancake, licking the syrup clean off the fork.

Ellie almost choked on her own food. Surely, you were doing this on purpose; to make her life a living hell- or maybe, some sort of sex fantasy that only her dreams could muster.

She awkwardly laughs out of discomfort, directing her eyes to the food in front of her incase you actually do give her a heart attack with your little antics.

You two chatted while you ate- well, mostly you chatted- Ellie being too scared to make a sound to direct attention on her- just silently agreeing with whatever words came out of your mouth.

She watched you though- in between bites. You had her wrapped around your little finger, even if she didn't know it.

You had her exactly where you wanted her.

You knew she'd notice how your tongue wetted your lips or how the syrup started to drip down you chin.

"Oh.. you got a little- here." She dropped the silverware, her hand coming up to your face as she took her thumb and wiped the sticky substance away before putting it in her mouth, tasting the sweet molasses on her taste buds.

Your eyes linger on her lips, darkening with your growing insatiable hanger. Ellie's face immediately lit up in embarrassment, regretting the gesture altogether. She was painfully unaware of what she just did- just trying to help you is all.

"Sorry.., sorry- I dunno why I did that." She awkwardly chuckled, rubbing the nape of neck with her hand.

"Don't be sorry, els- I really appreciate havin' you around- don't know what I'd do without you." You found your voice to be; sickeningly sweet when Ellie was around, but you couldn't help it when you could tell how much of an effect it had on her.

You pat her thigh before dragging it away, making sure she can really feel your touch through her jeans as you grab both of the plates and take them to the sink.

Ellie swallowed the rest of her juice in one gulp, her mind at war if she should make an excuse that she had to leave because if she didn't? She didn't know what she might end up doing to you.

But it was already too late, you were quickly grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the kitchen.

"Come upstairs- wanna show you my room."

Ellie was fucked.

You open the door, holding your arm out as a soft "ta-da" leaves your lips. You fall into your bed, flipping onto your stomach with your ankles crossed, slightly swaying in the air.

Ellie hesitantly; takes a step into the room, still holding onto the door handle in case she needed an escape plan.

"Uh.. why are we up here?" She cracks a nervous smirk, looking around at the new environment.

"I wanted to show you my room-" you slightly pout, your hands tucking under your chin.

"Whaddya think?"

Ellie takes a second- looking around at the room and down to you, her eyes pausing at the curve of your back that dips into your ass.

Fuck- daisy duke shorts might be her kryptonite.

"It's- uh... it's very girly." Her hand leaves the handle as she takes a few more steps into the room, looking more closely at the pictures and paintings that decorated your walls.

"Do you not like it?" You pout some more, flipping onto your back with your knees propped up, making it even harder for Ellie as your cropped shirt rises more on your torso, dangerously close to exposing the undercurve of your breasts.

Ellie takes a seat at the edge of the bed, her head turning to look at your horizontal position over her shoulder.

"It suits you, doll."

Your hand comes up to play with the fabric of her sleeve. In Ellie's eyes- it seemed absentmindedly- like it didn't mean anything on your behalf, and she was getting worked up for nothing, but you knew exactly what you were doing- carefully calculating every little thing you did when Ellie was around.

"Why do you always call me that?" You softly chuckle, fixating your eyes on your hand that slipped to the exposed skin of her forearm- just lightly traces shapes over the faded ink.

Ellie tenses under your touch- her boxers tightening under her jeans.

"Because you look like one." She said barely above a whisper, her voice; coarse, and it dug into your chest.

Silence filled the space between you two besides the soft rustling of the trees outside your window. Your hand moves to her back as you drag your nails lightly across it.

You were testing her limits, wanting to see how much it would take until she finally gave in to what she's been wanting since the day she met you.

Her head turns away from you, letting it hang between her shoulders as she mumbles an inaudible fuck under her breath.

"You scare me."

Your eyebrows slightly scrunch at this, momentarily confused by the statement, but it was all an act. You were playing a game with Ellie- whether she knew it or not, and you were winning.

"Scare you? How?"

Her head comes up, looking back over her shoulder at you. Her eyes were piercing this time, darker than you remembered them being.

She leans down, getting dangerously close to your face- close enough you could feel her breath against your lips.

"You make me feel like-" she pauses, her voice firming under her clenched jaw.

"- like I can't control myself around you."

*sorry idk if I like how this turned out but oh wellll

❥ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @tfuuka @mattm1964 @tlouadditc @bugaboodarling @robinismywifee @omgidksblog @bf4iy4z @ellieswifee @endureher @asteroidzzzn @machetegirl109 @thatgiraffefromtlou @locaforellie @bellaramseysgirlfriend @wannabwanted @iconsoft @abbbyslefttitty @fireflyelllie

[thelittlestoflives]

Burning for You

this quite literally came to me in a dream soooo i had to write it!! just a lil silly drabble about the sweetest fire boy (not proofread IM SORRY)

afab reader, uses of YN

portgas d ace x strawhat!reader

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it's pretty steamy so i'm gonna say NSFW MDNI but it's not tooo explicit

wc: 1.5k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The building exploded, bricks and debris flying through the air and smashing through anything in its path. You barely had time to gape in disbelief before you saw your crew scattering in different directions. Of course, this is how the ‘stealth’ plan went. 

Luffy’s brother, Ace, was staying with the crew for a while and the two of you had most definitely been making eyes at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking. You were staying on an island when the crew had discovered some nefarious goings-on, and would you really be the Strawhats if you all didn’t try and right these wrongs? The plan was to sneak into the suspected building, scope it out, and then figure out the intricacies once you all knew its layout. The plan was not to blow the damn building up.

“Quick!” Ace sprinted past you, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind him. 

“Was that you?” You yelled at him, referring to the building’s demise.

He flashed a grin over his shoulder at you, confirming the answer as you both ran through the unfamiliar streets. 

Eventually, you stopped in an alleyway, breathing heavily.

You threw a glare at him. “I don’t recall ‘blowing up the building’ as the course of action, Ace.”

He simply threw a smile your way. “But didn’t that make it much more fun?”

“Oh, okay. So your idea of fun is, I don’t know, terrorism?” 

“Pfft. They deserved it. The bastards inside were up to no good. It’s not exactly my fault they had highly flammable objects in there.”

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I can’t believe we sent Fire Fist himself into a flammable building. I guess we have nobody to blame but ourselves for that one.” You looked up to see his incredibly (cute) smug face brightly beaming at you.

“Exactly. So really, it’s all your fault,” he teased. 

“You really are Luffy’s brother,” you remarked, unable to stop your mouth from turning up. 

His smile grew. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Sure.”

You both began to walk out of the alley and back into the city as the fire brigade and island’s police ran past you to the inferno in the centre. You tried to look as nonchalant as possible as Ace walked without a care in the world beside you, arms up behind his head.

“I see you staring at me, you know,” he said. 

You splutter. “Sorry?”

“You don’t need to apologise.”

“No, I wasn’t-”

“I see you staring because I’m staring at you,” you didn’t have to see his face to know exactly what kind of smile he wore. “You’re pretty damn cute.”

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. He stepped closer to you and draped an arm over your shoulders.

“And while we wait for the smoke to settle, if you’ll pardon the pun, I think we might as well enjoy the time we have alone together, don’t you?” 

“You’re shameless,” you manage to say, head spinning due to the close proximity. 

He laughed. “Maybe. But you’re too gorgeous to pass up on. What do you say, YN? Shall we make the most of it?”

You grumble at the compliment, and the butterflies in your stomach intensify. “What, uh, what did you have in mind?”

“Grab a drink somewhere? Get to know each other?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Great!” His arm moved from your shoulders and you found yourself missing the warm contact, but only temporarily as his hand found yours and your fingers interlocked. “I want to know how you ended up on my brother’s crew.” 

The bar Ace picked wasn’t one you would have chosen - slightly too ‘old man pub’ for your taste - but the drinks were cheap and there was hardly anyone inside, so you couldn’t complain too much. You both sat in a booth in the corner, shielded from any eyes that might look your way. The conversation flowed just as easily as the drinks you both threw back, and soon you were leaning over the table clutching your stomach in fits of laughter.

“You’re something else,” you choked out as you wiped the tears of laughter from your eyes. 

Ace had a wicked grin on his face. “You love it though, don’t you?”

“Presumptious.” 

“But true.”

You lean back in your seat and look at him only to find he was already looking at you. 

At some point in the conversation, Ace had moved closer to you, dangerously close. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin. 

He lifted his hand to hold your cheek, fingertips in your hair. 

“If you don’t want this to go any further, you have to say now, princess,” he murmured. “Because I don’t know how much self-control I’ll have.” 

“I… I don’t know, Ace,” you whisper. “I don’t normally do this sort of thing… I don’t want to just be some notch on your belt.” 

“Oh no, no, no, YN. You’re much more than that. I don’t do this sort of thing either. I’m not some hotshot ladies’ man who sleeps around whenever he can.” He moves his hand to brush over your lips to silence your response. “I know that’s what you think of me, it’s okay. But I need you to know that’s not who I am, yeah? You’re… breaking my resolve, that’s all.”  

Your eyes flutter at the closeness, the intimacy. “But, I’m on your brother’s crew. We couldn’t… I mean, we can’t…”

He raised an eyebrow, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Says who?”

Oh, fuck it.

His lips were close enough that you barely had to move to crash yours against them. He grunted a little in surprise, but wrapped his arms around you, pulling you impossibly close. Your mouths moved in tandem, the kiss getting deeper and deeper. Your hands move to tangle in his hair, his hat now off his head and hanging by the strap around his neck. His skin was on fire underneath your touch, and he groaned slightly as your tongue entered his mouth. He pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him, neither of you caring that you were in some random bar. His hands clutched at your waist and grabbed at any part of you they could. It was desperate, messy, passionate. You could feel the hardness in his shorts under you as you began to gently grind on him, the kiss now sloppy as he panted into your mouth. Thank god the booth you were in was hidden. 

“YN…” He groaned as you pulled away to kiss his jaw and neck, sucking and nipping the skin lightly. “You’re teasing me.” 

“Want me to stop?” you whisper, biting his ear softly. 

He pulled your face away and held it in his hands, his pupils blown and cheeks red. “Not here, not like this,” he said lowly. “Something as beautiful as you needs to be devoured slowly, and not in some gross bar.”

You flushed at the compliment which pleased him greatly.

“Your room, tonight. We’ll finish what we started, yeah? Properly this time,” he pulled your face back to his and kissed you deeply. 

The two of you finished your drinks, in between kisses and touches, before slipping out of the bar and dancing through the streets, hand in hand. 

By the time you and Ace returned to the ship, it was dark out. He pressed some kisses to your face and you giggled, swatting him away as you didn’t want the crew to see.

When you pushed open the door to the kitchen you were immediately crashed into.

“YN!” Luffy’s excited voice called as he wrapped himself around you. “I’m so happy you’re my sister!”

For the second time that day, you splutter. “W-what?”

You didn’t miss the mischievous grins on your crew behind him. 

“Well, you and Ace are together, and he’s my brother, which means you’re my sister! Welcome to the family, sis!”

Ace burst into peals of laughter at the redness of your face. You glared at your crew behind Luffy, as this was obviously their doing. Once you and Ace failed to return to the ship when everyone else did, they put two and two together. 

“Oh, no, Luffy, I’m not… We’re not… It’s not like…”

Ace slung his arm around your shoulder and kissed the side of your head. “Yeah, welcome to the family, YN.”

You grumbled, but couldn’t find it in you to actually be mad. It was rather sweet after all. Whoever told your Captain about you and his brother would suffer your wrath eventually. For now, you indulge in silliness and love and count down the minutes until everyone is in bed and Ace can come to yours.

[sailoryooons]

Gods of the Dark | Two | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Dream god!Yoongi x f. human!reader

☾ Summary: Don’t ask for help in the dark. It’s an old tale you always heard whispered among the people of your village. But when you find yourself dragged kicking by the man you’re to marry, you have little choice but to beg for help long after the sun has set. The god who answers your pleas promises to save you, but every deal comes with a price. 

☾ Word Count: 21,443

☾ Genre: Fantasy, angst, strangers to lovers, smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Sexist and patriarchal society inspired by medieval europe, a lot of world building and discussion about theories/concept of dreams, discussions of morals and ethics, world building, angst, mentions/light depictions of an abusive family, discussions of gender roles and forced marriages, attempted murder via arson, sexual dream sequences, depictions of oral (f. receiving), exposed bodies (in a brothel), pining, townsfolk essentially bullying reader, intense nightmare sequences, light depictions of PTSD (including memories of almost drowning/being physically attacked), explicit language, idiots who are obviously into one another being idiots, recreational drinking, topics of desire, feelings of shame, depictions of anxiety and fear, slight voyeurism, attempted murder

☾ Published: December 2, 2023

☾ A/N: It's finally here! This chapter took so long to write and I want to apologize for how long it took. The creative process can be so difficult sometimes, and I have been having a very hard year, which reflects in my writing. Thank you for sticking with me - I really hope this chapter is okay. This originally wasn't going to be as slow of a burn as it is, but this is where the story took me naturally, so I hope that's okay with everyone. I am going to be adding an extra chapter to this now to tell the story the way I want, so we will have five total chapters to this. I am already working on chapter three, and my goal is to write just this series until the next three chapters are done! Note: The sections of italics are used to indicate dream sequences for this fic - the way I use these are very specific and with intent... that's the only hint I will give you.

A huge thank you to @here2bbtstrash for being my beta reader - I give them huge beta projects with very little time to do them, and this story would not be nearly as polished or tuned as it is now without them. Also thank you to everyone who has been so encouraging and patient with me - your kind words are not lost on me and I'm thankful for you all!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Eyes in the sky crying geysers How dare I have private desires

-

First is your mother’s screaming. It’s loud enough to make you clap your hands over your ears, wincing as she drops all of the things in her hands. Second is your father storming into the house like a hurricane, an axe clutched in his hand from cutting wood in the yard. When he sees you, he blanches and takes a few steps back, raising the axe. 

“Demon,” he whispers. He reaches for your mother and pulls her behind him. “You are a demon.” 

“No, I-”

Without a warning, your father launches the axe at you. You scream, arms going up to block your face, unable to dodge the attack. There’s a loud crack as the axe hits an invisible barrier. You feel your hand fly to your open mouth, staring at the axe that’s now hewn in two on the floor. 

Silence follows the destruction of the weapon. In that silence, it occurs to you that your father has attempted to kill you, and was only stopped by whatever protection Yoongi promised you. The realization is dizzying and you stumble away from your parents a little, bumping into the wall that separates the kitchen and the entryway. 

No one says anything at first. Your mother clings to your father, trembling violently. Her hair is greyer than you remember and it looks like the last few days haven’t been kind to her. But she has always been soft and weak.

It’s your father who no longer looks the same. Always such an imposing figure in your life, he looks aged. His face is wrinkled, his hair is grey. His presence is so much smaller than you remember, once full of rage and ferocity, now just a terrified man in a doorway. 

You cannot believe this is the man you’ve spent most of your life afraid of. Where once stood a great fear of yours now stands nothing more than a shadow of a man. Weak. Afraid. Vulnerable. 

“You can’t hurt me anymore,” you say in a voice much steadier than you feel. “You can’t marry me off, you can’t make me burn my books, and you can’t hurt me anymore.”

“What kind of demon are you?”

It occurs to you that you could tell him you’re not a demon. You’re just you, with a little added protection. But the realization that they are afraid of you wakes up something ugly inside of you. Something oily, that slithers, something wicked and sharp.

You don’t have to tell them you’re not a demon. You don’t have to tell them that you are. They have come to that conclusion themselves, and it has put them beneath you. Afraid of you. You’re more powerful than you’ve ever been in this home. 

So you let them think you are. “The kind that survived Nathaniel Laudermill beating me in the woods and trying to drown me.” 

Your father straightens. “That wasn’t supposed to happen! You weren’t supposed to run and he- he wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”

“Well, he did. And he paid for it, didn’t he?” 

When you say it, you have a sneaking suspicion that Nathaniel Laudermill is dead. When your father nods feebly at your question, the knowledge slides into place. You don’t feel bad. It almost horrifies you that you don’t, but you think of the burning in your lungs, his nails against your skin, the roaring of the water. 

You’re glad Nathaniel is dead.

“What do you want from us? Money? Our lives?”

“Nothing.” You realize it’s true, suddenly stricken with wondering why you came back at all. “I want you to go about your lives, and let me do what I will.” 

Pushing off the wall, you turn around and head out the front door. You feel their eyes on you as you go, but you don’t look back.

For now, you walk out into the woods. Crickets chirp happily, growing quiet as you walk by and starting once again when you’re a distance from them. Under the shade of the trees, it’s cold. The river isn’t flooded up into the woods anymore, but the ground is soft beneath your feet, mud giving way to your steps.

It feels different when you walk through the woods this time. They aren’t as vibrant. No Tiera is lurking in the boughs of the wisteria. There’s no lake with merfolk peering at you with large, alien eyes. A world that was once so full of life and peace feels unsaturated now. Devoid of color. 

A nasty feeling creeps up on you as you walk. You look for the creatures of the wood, hoping to see their bright colors and little lives. A snake slithers away from you, but it’s just that. A snake with normal scales, in a normal bush. A rabbit rushes by, quick as lightning, a blur of fur.

None of the birds have plumes of purple feathers. There’s no trilling song that sounds like dreams spun into notes, no smell of drifting sweetness on the wind. The air is damp and cold, and it smells like fresh earth and water. But there’s nothing about it that seems as vibrant as before.

By the river, the water rushes as fast as your thoughts. You weren’t sure what to expect when you came home, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t your parents thinking you were a demon, but that isn’t the worst part. 

The worst part is that only after two weeks, your world has lost its magic. It pales in comparison to Yoongi’s world or even your imagination. You stare at the water you used to think rushed with so much promise, the waxy leaves that used to contain so many shades of green. Now they’re just leaves and the river is just water. 

A tingle presses at your neck. You turn, expecting Yoongi to be looming behind you. There’s no one there, but the feeling of awareness doesn’t go away. Frowning, you lean against the tree and stare out into the woods unseeing. 

Clove and cinnamon hang in the air. You close your eyes, inhaling. The tingle at the back of your neck feels familiar. In your mind, you feel it like a phantom touch, sliding from your neck across your shoulder, dragging down the length of your arms until there is a soft twitch in your palm. 

It’s easy to imagine Yoongi this way. But when you open your eyes, Yoongi isn’t there. The feeling doesn’t go away. But you always have that feeling out here, the something of other. Your heart flutters at the thought of the god lurking somewhere that you can’t see. 

A silly thought. You brush it away, trying not to delude yourself into fantasies that Yoongi has any interest in you beyond your deal and beyond that night in the woods where you asked for help. Yoongi’s kindness is just that, and though you dream of him often, you know the difference between your dreams and reality. 

Instead of leaving to go back to the house, you sit down on the ground. Closing your eyes, you imagine a brighter world. A more magical world. It’s easier to do this than to contend with the fact that the woods you loved so dearly are not as you remember them. 

This, at least, is familiar. Sitting in the woods for hours and imagining worlds away from yours. Now, you imagine a specific world, made up of twilight and mountains in the distance. With a wonderful castle full of rooms saturated with candlelight and books you’re learning how to read.

When your stomach growls, you’re forced to stop your imagination and get up. You feel a bit better, knowing that you can at least remember what Yoongi’s dream realm looks like. Two weeks. You have two weeks until you can go back, and until then, Yoongi expects you to study. 

Back at the house, your parents stare in silence when you enter. You hardly look at them, walking to the kitchen as though they are merely ghosts harboring the same space as you. Your movements are methodical as you make yourself lunch. When you reach for the knife to cut cheese, you feel the pointed look of your parents. 

Part of you wants to turn around and scream at them to scare them. Another part of you has divorced the idea of them as your parents already. Yet you do nothing, biting a piece of cheese as you finish plating your meal and go to your room. They say nothing. 

Sitting on your bed, you eat your meal. The world is quiet for the most part, though the muted sound of nature hums beyond your closed window. You realize there is a desk in your room stacked with books, parchment, and inkwells. 

Heart racing, you get up from your bed and cross the room. You wipe your fingers on your shirt as you pick up a note written in Yoongi’s neat scrawl. You chew your lip as you look at the swirls and dips of letters on paper, immediately intimidated at the prospect of making sense of the writing. 

You take the note with you to the bed and begin to parse the letters and sentences apart. It takes all of your concentration, going over the sounds each letter makes in your head to build a word. It’s not fast work and it isn’t easy, but after a while, you work out the first sentence. 

Do not forget to practice every day. 

A smile makes your mouth twitch, both in pride that you managed to work out the sentence and at the thought of Yoongi hunched over his desk writing you a note.  

The second sentence is trickier. Afternoon light pours through your window as you spend another fifteen minutes sounding out the letters, quietly muttering them to yourself until you’ve got full words to build the sentence.

I will be watching, so you better practice as often as you can. 

You bite your lip. It sounds like a playful threat, quietly muttered in one of Yoongi’s teasing moments. You can almost hear the soft rasp of his voice and picture the smirk that would accompany his words. You shiver before reading the final sentence. 

Sleep well, and dream as often as you can.

The desk is a nice touch. You don’t remember seeing it this morning and you wonder how it got there. Remembering Yoongi’s magic is overwhelming. You’re still unsure what the limits of his power are, if there are any at all. 

Hunched over the papers, you begin to trace letters again. It feels good to have the quill in your hand. You’re careful not to spill the ink all over the paper like you do when you’re practicing in the library - you have a limited amount of parchment here, compared to Yoongi’s endless amounts in the House of Dreams. 

It does beg the question whether he’ll drop you off more magical paper if you run out, though. 

By the time your hand is cramping too much to practice more and your head hurts, it’s evening. Your parents are locked away in their room when you come out. You can hear the soft voice of your mother go silent when they hear you enter the kitchen for food before heading out to the porch.

Twilight skies stretch above you. Sitting on the edge of the porch, you watch the world fade from purple to black. The stars begin to dot the sky, the moon making her climb upward. You grin, feeling relieved that maybe not all of your world has lost its magic. 

Perhaps it’s just the light of day you’re no longer interested in. The night is far more mysterious and alluring, calling to you as you finish your last bite of dinner. You set your plate down on the porch and hop down, feeling the soft grass beneath your bare feet.

The last time you entered the woods in the dark, you were almost killed. That memory alone makes you pause at the edge of the woods. Your mouth dries a little bit and though the urge to step into the shadow of the night is strong, the memory of Nathaniel’s hands on your hair is stronger.

You turn around quickly and walk back to the house, picking up the plate along the way. It feels shameful to be afraid of the dark woods, a sour taste in your mouth as you lock yourself in your room and crawl onto the bed. 

Closing your eyes, you try not to think about Nathaniel. His yelling haunts you, the phantom grip of his fingers pulling your hair, the way your mouth filled with water- a hooting owl disturbs your spiraling thoughts. 

You open your eyes, straining your ears, only to find silence. Just as you begin to close your eyes again, you hear the hoot once more. Turning toward the window next to your bed, you sit up and pop the latch, casting open one of the shutters. 

Above the house, the moon is a glowing coin in the sky. Everything her light touches is awash in grey. Sticking your head out of the window, you sweep your gaze back and forth, trying to look for the sound of the hooting.

As though it senses your gaze, the owl hoots again. You see it this time. A great horned owl stares at you from its perch on top of a pile of chopped wood. Its eyes are burnished gold, like two burning beacons in the night. It’s a stunning owl, all browns and whites, feathers luminous under the sheen of the moon. It moves its head in a circle, opening and closing its beak.

Then, the owl surprises you. You flinch and sit backward on your haunches as it takes flight, great wings flapping as it flies to your window and lands on the ledge. You gasp in delight. The creature is far bigger up close, its ochre eyes warm and intelligent. 

The back of your neck tingles familiarly and you smile. 

“Are you supposed to watch over me?” The owl chirps, a much higher-pitched noise than the hoot. “Hmm. I see. Do you have a name?”

The owl bobs its head from side to side in an uncanny movement. Though you’re not sure, you think it means to tell you no. “Well, what if I give you one?” The owl chirps again. “What about… Moony?” 

Fluffing its feathers, the owl shifts back and forth and lets out a hiss. You giggle, covering your mouth as the bird settles, looking at you in a way that certainly feels haughty and bothered. “Alright. What about… Dream?” Another hiss and a bob no. “Okay, well you’re making this quite difficult. What about…”

A dozen names run through your mind. You think of the owl as Yoongi’s way to watch over you at night. It makes you feel warm and far less alone than you were before. It’s nice knowing that you have a protector, someone to warn Yoongi if you’re ever in danger. Or to steer you away from your bad thoughts.

“How about Guardian?” you offer. It blinks two large eyes before chirping and bobbing its head in a circle, pleased at the name. You grin and slowly reach your hand forward. “I like it. Guardian, then.” 

Gently, the owl leans forward and lets you brush its feathers. They are silky under your touch, each plume delicate and wonderful. You can’t help but smile, stroking the owl's chest until it shuffles back and forth and gives a short hoot.

“Go on,” you urge. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll leave the window open?”

Guardian hoots in affirmation before shuffling its wings and flying off into the night. 

Laying in your back, you stare up through the open window, watching the stars go past. Slowly, you feel sleep pull at your edges, beckoning you to give in. You finally do, drifting asleep under the silver light of the moon and a blanket of stars. 

-

Yoongi sits in front of the fireplace in the library. You blink a few times, a little dazed. You don’t remember how you got here, but you know the smell of this library and you know that shadowy frame better than anything. It suddenly makes you ache to realize how much you miss it already. 

As if sensing your presence, Yoongi turns to look at you. He smirks, showing no sign of surprise at seeing you standing behind him. He gestures to the armchair next to him and you grin, quick to join him. 

Warmth leaps from the fireplace, the logs popping and crackling under the hungry, orange flames. Yoongi is dressed in a simple linen shirt and pants, his necklaces reflecting the burning light. He watches you sit down and fold your feet onto the chair. 

“Am I here? Or am I dreaming?” you ask. 

“Are both not possible?”

You think about it. “Well yes, I suppose they are. I’m dreaming but I can come here because I’m dreaming.”

“Clever girl.” Yoongi’s eyes dance as he looks you up and down. “How was your first day back?”

“Strange. I…” You chew on your lip, wrapping your arms around your legs. Suddenly, you feel more at home than you did earlier that day in the place you were raised. You think about the woods out behind your house, the alien way you felt among trees that should be familiar. “It feels as though the world doesn’t hold as much magic anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like here. It is so vibrant and beyond imagining that now that I’ve gone back… nothing compares.”

Yoongi hums. “I promise you that there is so much magic in your world. There is real magic in living that cannot be found among the imaginary.” 

You rest your chin on your knees and sigh heavily. “If only I could find it.” 

“You will.” 

Silence passes between you. It’s comfortable. You watch the dancing fire, the world fading away. Though you are acutely aware that Yoongi is staring at your side profile, you don’t squirm or feel anxiety. You simply feel peace, happy to be here. Happy to be with him.

That makes your stomach flutter. At least you’re not dreaming of him in ways you shouldn’t tonight. As soon as you think about it, you feel your cheeks heat up hotter than the flames from the fireplace. 

After a little while Yoongi sighs, drawing your attention back to him. “You should sleep.” 

“I thought I was.”

“Sort of. You’re more… dreamwalking right now. You’re not really resting.” 

“Do I have to stay here?” The question is small. You don’t meet his eyes when you ask, suddenly filled with shame that you can’t even last a day in the world you’ve known for over twenty years. “There’s nothing for me here.”

“There is. You just have to find it again.”

“I don’t know how.” 

Yoongi stands up. You look up at him and see that his expression is soft. Kind. Your heart speeds up, tongue heavy in your mouth as he slowly reaches out to you. His hand hesitates for a second, pauses in mid-air like he’s unsure, and then he touches your cheek lightly. “Trust me.” 

Before you can respond, Yoongi is walking away. The skin on your cheek tingles where his fingers were a moment before, a shiver racing up your spine. You lift your hands to touch your cheek where his fingers were moments ago. You can’t help but smile, fondness for him growing. Blooming. 

Leaning back in the chair, you close your eyes and settle into real sleep. 

-

Tap tap tap. 

You twitch your nose and roll your head to the side, sniffing. For a moment, it felt like something had been tapping your nose, almost waking you from sleep. You start to sink back into it, pulling your covers tighter as your thoughts drift… further…

Tap tap tap. 

You frown. Now you’re awake, your thoughts clawing their way to break the surface of sleep. When you finally collect yourself and register that you’re waking up, you open your eyes to reveal a face hovering inches from yours, so close that you cannot make out the features. 

A shriek rips through your room as you scramble away from the face, clutching your blanket. You slam into the wall near the window, heart hammering as you press yourself flat, trying to make yourself small. 

Taehyung falls backwards on his ass, covering his ears and giving you a ghastly expression, as though horrified to be screamed at in such a manner. Your hand clutches your chest as you realize it’s him sitting on your floor and him who had been inches from your face - tapping your nose. 

“What are you doing?” you holler at him, fisting your blankets. You suddenly feel sick, the adrenaline making your stomach turn and your head spin. Groaning, you lay on your side, squeezing your eyes shut. Colors coalesce behind your eyelids as you take deep breaths, hoping it will pass. “Are you insane?”

“Well, that is up for debate.” 

You open your eyes and glare at him. 

Taehyung sits with his long legs out in front of him, leaning back on his palms. His dark hair hangs in his eyes as he grins at you, giddy. He’s dressed in a flowing white shirt with laces at the front that he’s kept open, revealing a tanned chest. His shirt is tucked into brown trousers and you spot a small chain with a charm tied through one of his belt loops.

You think you recognize the charm from one of Yoongi’s necklaces. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Visiting, obviously.”

“You can just… visit?” 

“I do what I want.” 

As the adrenaline rush fades, you slowly sit up, glaring at the man on your floor. “I doubt that. How did you get in here, anyway?” 

“Your window is open.” 

The window in question is still wide open from last night, only now, morning light streams through. The air is cool and smells of rain, the wind rushing through the trees and making them bend and dance under its guidance. A robin flits from bough to bough, singing. 

“So you came through the window?” 

“No, I came through the front door. No one else is home.” 

“Then why did you say you came through the window?”

“I didn’t. I said the window was open.” Taehyung gives you a white, square grin. You clench your teeth and resist the urge to throw a pillow at him. Though you’re pleased to see him, you’re equally as vexed by his teasing. “Anyway, I want you to show me around.”

“Show you around what?” 

He gets up from the floor, clapping his hands together to get rid of the dirt and dust before doing the same to his pants. He shrugs, giving you a cheery smile. “I don’t know. Anything. Everything. I want to see what your life here was like.” 

“It wasn’t very good.”

“That’s okay. I want to see it anyway.” 

Slowly, you get out of bed. He makes room for you, walking over toward the desk where your writing practice sheets are. He flips through them, examining your work as you eye him, stretching. Your joints pop and you groan, eyes fluttering at the release of tension. 

“Why?” you ask. He looks up at you, brows raised in a question. “Why do you want to see?”

Taehyung contemplates his answer. He taps one long finger on top of your tracing. “You’re getting better.” He leans against the desk and crosses his arms, regarding you steadily. “I’ll make you a deal. Show me about your life here. Teach me about you. And I’ll tell you about me.” 

That sparks your interest. You know so little about Taehyung, even in the two weeks that you’ve lived in the House of Dreams. He is a charming mystery, someone who speaks in riddles and likes to goad you and talk about so much that you realize he talks about nothing at all. At least, not anything substantial. 

For the amount of things you know about Taehyung, like how he enjoys cinnamon in his tea or that his favorite color is green like the bottom of the lake, or how his favorite snacks are honey cakes or that music makes him cry, you also know… nothing about him. Where he comes from. Who he was before he was Yoongi’s companion in a big, lonely castle. 

Sighing, you walk up to him and extend your arm. “Deal.”

Taehyung’s hand is warm and tingles when you shake it. He grins at you, happier than ever before he drops your hand and gestures at your clothes. “Well go on,” he says. “Change out of your nighties. Unless of course, you’d like to stay in them.”

“Get out of my room and I will!”

He raises his brows. “Don’t want me to watch? How boring.” 

You don’t take his teasing to heart. You’ve already adapted to Taehyung’s jesting and prodding, learning that it’s a key part to the way that he shows his affections. For the first few days, you’d thought perhaps he didn’t like you much, but after seeing him rib Yoongi for two hours straight in the library, you realized it was good that he was teasing you.

You open the small trunk of clothes and slide on pants and a loose shirt. When you enter the main house, you find Taehyung standing on the porch with his arms crossed over his chest, looking into the woods with a frown. Tucking in your shirt, you step out onto the porch, the wood creaking underneath your weight. 

“What is it?” you ask when Taehyung doesn’t turn to greet you. His eyes are dark and there’s an expression on his face that makes you nervous. “Is there something out there?”

Instead of answering directly, he asks, “Is that where Yoongi found you?” 

Oh. Oh. Taehyung is looking at the woods where you ran off the night that your parents tried to make you marry Nathaniel. You nod and hum, trying not to think much about it as you finish tucking in the shirt and adjusting the material. 

“There’s a bad energy there,” Taehyung observes. He turns away from the woods finally and drops his hands at his side. “You should stay away from that place moving forward.”

“I didn’t exactly go in there on purpose.”

“I know.” Something flashes in his eyes. “Best not to do it again, if you can help it. You can go into the woods, just not there.” 

“Okay…” 

You wait for Taehyung to elaborate, but he doesn’t. A chill settles over your skin, the wind picking up to rustle the trees. He shrugs and grins, the dark expression gone in a flash as he gestures for you to enter back through the house and leave by way of the front door. 

Taheyung follows you, a bounce to his step as he hurries to walk next to you. You say nothing as you lead him out of the yard and toward the main road by your home that leads into town, your stomach fluttering with nervousness as you go. 

If Taehyung is confused as to why you’re not starting the story of your life at home, he doesn’t let on. He tucks his hands into his pockets and walks next to you, his feet crunching the gravel beneath his boots and the wind lifting his hair.

Studying Taehyung’s side profile, you think he looks like something from a dream. He has the kind of beauty that seems purposeful and handcrafted, each one of his features carefully designed to be the wonderful, glowing being that he is. 

You don’t know what he is, really. But you’ve made a deal and you have to deliver on your end first. 

“We live a bit away from town,” you say eventually. “My father inherited the house after his father, who was a very talented wood carver. He used to cut the trees here himself and decide which tree was perfect for what project, which is why we live almost thirty minutes from town.” 

“A wood carver is a nice talent to have.”

You nod. “He was very good. It made a good income. My father had no talent for it, though, and opened up a store instead. He sold my grandfather’s wares and then eventually added items from other folks in town, including my mother's clothes. She’s a seamstress.” 

“You were wearing a dress the night Yoongi brought you home.”

Home. Taehyung says it so easily, like he’s already accepted that the House of Dreams is yours as much as it’s his. A warm feeling blooms through you, and you look up at Taehyung and smile at him despite the looming subject of the doomed wedding dress. He returns your smile just as broadly, even if he doesn’t know the reason for your sudden turn of happiness. 

“Yeah. That was one she made,” you sigh, turning back to the road. “A wedding dress.” 

“It was beautiful, but I did burn it in the fire.” You look at him with your brows raised and he gives you a sheepish shrug. “You were assaulted in that dress. We wanted nothing to do with it.”

“I’m glad that you did. I never want to remember that night again.”

“Good. Memories have a way of haunting us, even when we don’t know it.” 

Taehyung’s tone is ominous. Instead of asking him what he means, you let his weighted silence fall around you, propelling the both of you toward the town. 

As you get closer, houses and other roads begin to pop up. You see the pathways leading up to the homes of your neighbors, pointing out each one to Taehyung along with filling him in on summaries of their family histories and gossip. He listens with a conspiratorial smirk, gasping and asking you scandalous questions as you whisper rumors you’ve long heard from eavesdropping on your parents. 

Gossiping with Taehyung is nice. You feel lighter than you had the day before, nearly skipping as you near the town proper. You start passing people on the road. Normally, you’d greet the ones you know. Now, you hear gasps as people flinch when they see you, making signs with their hands to ward off evil. 

You blink in surprise, glancing at Taehyung for his reaction. He frowns when he sees the second group of people do it. By the third, he pulls a snarling face at them, making a child cry. You jam your finger in his ribs and he hisses in pain, shoving lightly back.

“What?” he demands. “You’re not evil. That sign doesn’t do anything, either. If one of the more malevolent deities wanted to snatch them, they would.”

“Really?”

Taehyung rubs his ribs where you poked him. You pass the bakery owned by the Yen family, heavenly smells wafting out the door. “Of course they would,” he huffs. “Most deities aren’t bound by the rules and logic the mortals try to make to create a sense of safety from them. Many can simply do what they want.”

“Then why don’t they?”

“Because of Eternals, like Yoongi. The gods who are always here, never changing. That’s why they’re called Eternals.” 

“I see. There’s seven of them, right?” Taehyung hums the affirmative. As you pass a music shop, Taehyung slows. His hands are linked behind his back as he eyes the instruments through the window and gestures at them. You nod and follow him indoors, the bell on the door above chiming. “So other deities are afraid of them?”

“Of course they are,” Taehyung muses. He stops to admire a mandolin. “Yoongi, for example, is a being that creates dreams themselves. He manipulates reality. He can create things on a whim. He’s almost as powerful as life.”

“Really?”

“What are dreams if not creation? The difference isn’t all that big, though it drives Seokjin mad to admit it.”

“Who?”

Taehyung plucks the string of another instrument. You don’t know what it is, but the note is sharp, making you cringe. “Life, of course.”

“You know Life? What are you?”

He glances at you sidelong. “We’re supposed to learn about you first. I’m doing a lot of talking.”

“Not like it’s hard to get you going,” you mutter. 

Taeyung shoots you a scowl, but is interrupted by the shop owner coming around the corner. He’s a man in his late thirties, greeting Taehyung politely and wiping his hands on his trousers. He asks Taehyung if he’s looking for anything and just as Taehyung leans out of the way to reveal you standing behind him, the shop owner’s eyes go to you and he gasps, stumbling backward. 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” he whispers, his back bumping into a shelf of items. You feel a shiver slip down your spine as you stare at him, arms tingling. He makes the symbol to ward off evil, the whites of his eyes wild. “Evil. Evil creature, you are a demon. You do not-”

“Another word,” Taehyung cuts in, his voice dark in a tone you’ve never heard. “And I’ll show you what evil is, sir.” 

“G-god of Light spare me.”

“Your God of Light won’t answer.” Taehyung spins on his heel, facing you. His expression is thunder, his gaze dark and eyes wild as he hisses, “Speak their name all you wish. It's not daytime in here, sir.” 

For the two weeks you’ve known Taehyung, you’ve never seen him like this. The room feels oppressive and dark, and you swear the lights have dimmed, shadows pressing up against the wall as Taehyung strides forward and passes you, taking your arm firmly in his hand.

Taehyung escorts you out of the store, walking swiftly. When you hit daylight, the oppressive dark sheds itself immediately. Taehyung’s presence dims with the sun beating down on him and turning his skin copper, black hair shining almost blue in the light.

He lets go of your arm and shoots you a troubled gaze. “Don’t listen to him,” he grunts. “You’re not a demon, nor are you evil.”

“My parents called me the same thing.” He scowls and begins pacing. To keep him moving, you start walking toward the other side of town where the old cemetery and abandoned church is. You don’t know why you go there, but you’re drawn to it. “They called me a demon.” 

“Demons are much nastier. You might be annoying, but certainly not a demon.”

You scowl and he shrugs. “I didn’t realize everyone here thought I died. I thought I would come back and it would be…”

“Normal?” You shrug a shoulder. 

The houses on the edge of town are shabbier than the rest. People hesitate in their doorways, staring at you and the tall, handsome man next to you. You see them do the warding sign as you go, and you squeeze your hands into fists as they do. 

Weeds crawl up the side of the old church. The structure leans heavily to the left, the stairs unusable and the ceiling fallen in. Instead of walking up the hazardous steps and inside the dilapidated building, you lead Taehyung around it, where the grass grows higher than your knees and the sound of grasshoppers buzzing by you follows. 

A dry-rotted fence surrounds what was once a graveyard. You walk toward it, leading Taehyung until he starts slowing down a few paces behind you. You stop and turn over your shoulder to look at him, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun. 

Taehyung looks thoughtful, dark eyes scanning the area. He’s stopped walking entirely, head cocked to the side. “Why’d you bring me here?” 

“I don’t know. I just… walked in this direction. I used to come here for the silence, sometimes.”

Taehyung has a strange look on his face. “Is that so?” 

“Why do you look like that?” 

“How long has this place been here?” 

“The church closed before I could remember. Honestly, they said it was haunted by this graveyard, which has been here a lot longer than the church. Even the oldest families in town don’t have their dead buried here. Rumor has it that it was built long before the town was.” 

Taehyung starts walking normally again. Side by side, you begin to navigate around the graveyard. “And you come here? Why?” 

“It’s quiet. When I was too young to stay at the house alone, my mom would bring me to town while she ran errands. I was allowed to explore, but I liked to come here.”

“Most kids are afraid of places of the dead.” 

You shrug. “It was quiet, and it gave me time to imagine things. I liked to make up fantasies about the old gods here or… what I imagined they might be. Of heroes descended from them, maybe.” 

“And you felt drawn here?” 

You startle when a grasshopper shoots across the grass in front of you. You laugh as it vanishes into the foliage. “Yeah, it just felt… safe.” 

“Strange.” 

“Am I allowed to ask why or are you going to complain you’re talking too much again?”  He snorts and gestures for you to continue. “Why is that strange? Beyond the fact that it’s, you know, a graveyard.” 

Sighing, Taehyung squints up at the line of trees nearby. His hand hovers along the tops of the grass as he runs it over each blade, letting the tips tickle his hands. You’re almost waist high in grass, glancing down to make sure you don’t step into any holes. 

“This place is old. The people of the church felt haunted because they were. Death owns this land.” 

You frown. “Well, the dead are here. The other graveyard doesn’t feel the same.”

“You misunderstand me. Death - the Eternal. His presence is all over. Someone important to him must be buried here.” 

“Oh.” 

You stop and think about that. Turning to look at the unmarked and lime washed tombstones, you scan for any sign of Death. You have no idea what you’re looking for. Ivy and time have taken over most of the concrete slabs, and none of the names or dates are legible by now. They’re just hewn stone, buried in green and grime. 

But you feel something here, a tingling on the back of your neck like the one you felt in the woods by your house. A chill wind blows over the land, sweeping the grass and rattling the trees. You feel the breeze against your neck, cool as fingers trailing down your spine. 

Suddenly, you feel a buzz on your skin. It’s not so different from Yoongi’s presence, and it chills you. 

You look up at Taehyung with wide, fearful eyes. He smiles and shakes his head. “You don’t need to be afraid of Death. Death is neither good nor bad, he just is. He only takes those who are ready.” 

“Have you met - um - Death?” 

Taehyung nods. “He is a man of few words, but Namjoon is unwaveringly kind and wise.”

“Strange that I was drawn to coming here.” You head back toward the town. The sun passes its zenith and makes its way into the early afternoon. “Is this whole place filled with Eternals or what?”

“No, it’s actually a rather unremarkable location. Namjoon lingers in many places. Yoongi was simply drawn here.” 

“By what?” 

Instead of answering the question, Taehyung sticks his hands in his pockets. “Show me more of your town.” 

So you do. Taehyung is a good companion. Where Yoongi would quietly observe and make sounds to indicate that he’s listening and admires the things you’re talking about, Taehyung asks questions. You realize he’s a tactile person as well. He touches things as he walks by them, brushing his fingers on fabric, touching jewelry at vendor stands.

Everywhere you go is a similar reaction to the instrument store. People seem happy to see Taehyung at first before they see you, fear making them lean away and ward you off. You realize you don’t know how much time has passed since you vanished from the woods and returned. 

When you ask Taehyung, he shrugs and explains that time moves differently and inconsistently. It could have been a day, it could have been a week, it could have been five months. By the looks on the faces of those you pass, you think perhaps it’s been a little longer than you anticipated.

Part of you wonders what lie your parents must have told them about your death. You almost want to ask, but you don’t, anxiety stilling your tongue. You probably wouldn’t be able to get close enough to anyone to ask anyway. 

By the time the sun has sunk beyond the horizon and the moon has begun its climb, you and Taehyung stop at the tavern to eat. Your stomach rumbles as you step into the warmth of the room behind Taehyung, and you notice that the place goes quiet.

It’s subtle at first, something you don’t notice as you kick dirt off your shoes, but the hush becomes so intense that you can’t help but look up, gaze sweeping the room as everyone turns to stare at you. 

Behind the counter, the barkeep straightens. His name is Sloan - you’ve known him since you were a little girl - and he looks less than happy at your arrival.

“I know I’m pretty,” Taehyung announces loudly, tossing the hair out his eyes. “But you don’t need to stare.”

“You aren’t welcome here,” Sloan says, voice wavering like he’s unsure if he means it. “Begone, demon. We are men and women of life and light!”

You swallow thickly and look around, feeling prickly heat crawl up your neck. 

Like at the music shop, something happens to Taehyung, except this time, it’s stronger than before. The candles in the chandelier and on the tables flicker in a phantom wind and darkness pulses in the room. You feel energy rolling off of him and you swear Taehyung gets darker as he steps forward, his presence oppressive and threatening. 

There is crying and gasping in the room as he seethes. “We are not demons, and you will not disallow this woman to enter your shops, your homes, or anywhere else she wishes.” 

“Taehyung,” you whisper, throat dry. 

He doesn’t seem to hear you. You swear there is thunder in the distance. Whatever power belonging to Taehyung is tenfold now that the night sky stretches over the tavern. “Refuse her service, and there will be consequences.”

“Taehyung,” you hiss, snatching his sleeve. You pull his attention to you. His eyes are like two obsidian coins. There is something sharp and lupine about his face, sending your heart hammering. “Stop. This is making it worse.” 

“They should not insult you.”

“It’s fine.”

He softens a touch. “It isn’t. You are not… they do not understand you.”

“They never have. Come on, let’s just go.”

For a second, you think he might not. You don’t know what Taehyung is or what he can do. It doesn’t frighten you, though. Because whatever Taehyung is and whatever his intentions are, he’s linked to Yoongi. Yoongi would never put you in harm's way or let Taehyung near you if he was a threat.

Even after such a short period of time, you know this in your heart of hearts.

Taehyung relents and the light returns to the room. No one makes a sound, all eyes on Taehyung as he lets you pull him out of the door and into the night. You immediately feel better outside, the moon washing your skin in light and the stars watching you march into the street. 

“You can’t just threaten everyone who insults me,” you snap, though you’re not really mad at him. “They’re only going to hate me more. And they will think you’re a demon when you do that.”

“I’m far more powerful than a demon,” he sniffs primly. “And they should not insult you. You have the favor of Dream. You are -” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Well, you’re far above their station. They know nothing.”

“Far above their station,” you snort, crushing a rock under the toe of your boot. “I’m a girl who was strange when they knew me before they thought I was dead, and now they think I’m a demon walking around with her scary demon husband. Or perhaps they think you are an evil entity.” 

“Don’t make that joke around Yoongi,” Taehyung mutters, putting his hands on his hips. Before you can ask what that means, he says, “What if I took you somewhere instead, then?”

You raise your brows and look around. “Where?”

“Well not here. Somewhere familiar to me, where they won’t ostracize you.”

“We’re going to travel in the middle of the night.”

Taehyung gives you a square grin that lights up the world. “Time to learn about how we travel.”

-

You almost vomit on Taehyung’s shoes. He squeals and steps out of the way as you bend over, holding your middle as bile burns its way up your throat and splatters onto the gravel beneath you. It feels like your world is spinning and you’ve lost your center of gravity, having been pulled by something sharp in your stomach into a vortex of what felt like twisting and spinning.

It could only have lasted a second, but Taehyung has to hold you up for a moment as you gasp for air, the taste in your mouth sour and gross. You crane your face to look at him, glaring as he winces. He had given you no warning of what his travel was like or how it would feel.

You’re not looking forward to it again.

“What,” you pant, “was that?”

“Teleportation, mostly. I kind of forgot what it feels like when you’re… human. You get a little scrambled.”

The nausea makes your throat clench and unclench again. You dig your fingers into his arm as you dry heave but nothing comes up. “A little?” you rasp. The world slows its spinning and the watering feeling in your mouth that preludes puking fades. “That was awful.”

“Sorry, it’s different than portaling. That’s more stepping through the door while teleportation is like... Jumping.”

“Don’t jump me again any time soon.”

Taehyung pats your back heartily as you stand up straight. The stars swim above you in a spiraling cosmos. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, waiting as the nausea fades away and the world around you bleeds into the forefront of your attention span. 

Noise hums from in front of you. You’re standing in an alleyway, looking up at the side of a building. It looks a bit like an inn, but you can hear the clamor of a crowd and loud voices coming from inside. Each window is curtained, keeping wandering eyes and the moonlight outside. 

Taehyung leads you around to the front of the building. It’s two stories and on the first floor there’s a porch filled with chairs and gambling tables. There are men and women draped over the furniture, smoking sweet-smelling cigars and laughing loudly as they throw dice on the table. 

Women and men in various states of undress sit on the laps of the others. You feel heat crawl up your neck as you avert your eyes, looking up at the sign hanging over the building that says Desert Rose. Nervousness tingles at the back of your neck as Taehyung strolls up the steps to what you’re sure is a brothel and a gambling den, greeting people as he goes.

You’re shocked that Taehyung knows people here. You’re sure that you’re still in… your dimension, as Yoongi calls it. The people here talk with an accent that is different from what you’re used to, but you still understand the language, even while struggling to keep up with the lilt.

Eyes follow you as Taehyung leads you inside. The air is thick with perfume, smoke, and loud voices. Tables are pressed closely together, filled with people. There’s a bar at the back of the room and a small bard and band in a corner, singing a raucous song with the crowd about Lady Trown who gets around and will go down. 

“Where did you bring me?” you ask Taehyung as he guides you through the rowdy room. A woman falls over a card game laughing, her breasts spilling out of her shirt while another woman plants a kiss right on her mouth. “This place is - is -”

There are no words for it. You’ve never been somewhere that is so openly indecent and carnal in your life and yet… the colors and the sounds and the overflowing joy hit you like an arrow to the chest. You can’t help but be drawn to look at the exposed bodies before darting your gaze away, only to be drawn somewhere else out of insatiable curiosity. 

“A haven!” Taehyung offers as he leans on the bar. “Two pints of whatever!” 

You press close against him, hands shooting to his shirt as someone pushes by you. It’s a little overwhelming and you feel hot all over. Taehyung shoves a wooden tankard of amber liquid into your hands and grins, raising another to his lips before taking several swigs, liquid running down his chin and neck. 

He comes away and smacks his lips, giving you a delighted grin. “It’s awful, just the way I like it!”

You take a sip and make a face. The watered-down ale is certainly nothing like the sweet wine Yoongi likes to treat you to over dinner. Taehyung seems to know this, laughing loudly as he leads you through the crowd toward an empty table in the corner. 

Back against the wall, you take a moment to look around the room. There are card and dice games being held at multiple tables, alongside other games with rune-marked stones, cups and trinkets that you don’t recognize.

It’s wildly different from anything back home. You’ve never been to a brothel - at least, you think this place qualifies for one, based on the various states of undress and a few couples doing something that makes you avert your eyes - but this is nice. In its own loud and carnal way.

Taehyung people-watches with you. He feeds you information on the faces that he recognizes, lips curling as he gossips. He looks alive and happy, his golden skin glowing with a radiance that seems a little magical. 

“So is it my turn to ask questions?” you ask, sipping the awful beer as you look over at Taehyung. His gaze reluctantly strays away from watching a card game where you’re pretty sure the woman who is winning is cheating. “Or do I still have to talk about myself?” 

He smirks. “You can ask questions, a deal is a deal.”

“What is this place?” 

“The Desert Rose.” 

You glare. “What is this place to you?” 

Taehyung takes a sip of his ale and grins, winking at you. “A better question. This place is somewhere I used to visit when I wanted to feel alive. When I wanted to feel humanity for its raw intensity.”

“So you’re not human.” He shakes his head. His face grows a little hesitant, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. “What are you?” 

“I’m a dream.” 

You blink once. Twice. You expect Taehyung to start laughing and indicate that he was teasing you, but he doesn’t. He leans back in his chair, watching you evenly with his dark eyes. 

“What?” you finally ask.

“I’m a dream. The second ever, actually.”

You think about what you’ve observed of Taehyung. The way that he seems to draw people in, the animated manner in which he speaks. He seems to contain so many multitudes of the things you know that Yoongi enjoys, and yet so many things that press Yoongi’s buttons and rattle him. 

Taehyung is… beautiful. Enchanting. Both to look at, and to talk to. He has a carefree personality and you know he’s magical, having witnessed it in the House of Dreams in snippets but also today, when he became angry and the darkness seemed to swell around him. Not to mention his awful teleportation to wherever you are in the world now.

He is exactly the kind of person you always imagined being the lead in your fantasies. Brave and charming, handsome and adventurous. He looks like he belongs here, melding to the energy around him, fitting in perfectly.

Suddenly, the thought of Taehyung being a dream makes more sense than anything else. A being of infinite possibilities, one who can shape themselves to anyone and anything, who can sense what people want and become that very thing.

You’re not sure what the complexities of dreams are, but you understand the very basics from Yoongi: most dreams are flexible and full of infinite possibilities. It’s what makes them so real, so strong. 

“That makes a lot of sense,” you murmur. “So you’re old.”

“Very.”

“If you’re the second dream…” you trail off, thinking about how Yoongi explained how he came to existence. How life dreamed and so he was born. “Yoongi is the first. That’s why you say he is Dream - he is the first and the essence of dreams.”

“Very clever.”

“When you said you came here to feel alive, what did you mean by that?”

He sighs heavily. “Yoongi was born because Life dreamed of - well, making life. And when Yoongi was born, he was the very concept of dreaming itself. Imagination, creation, wonder, hope. It’s why creation and dreaming are so close in their nature. But still, there is a difference between lifeforms and dreams.” 

“You wanted to know what it was like to feel life?”

He nods. “Yoongi made me as his first companion. He couldn’t help it, really. He didn’t make me on purpose so much as he thought of someone to spend time with, someone to offset him. To balance him. And then there I was.” 

You chew on your lip. There is a distant look in Taehyung’s gaze. He stares at his ale, not drinking anymore. He picks at splinters in the tankard handle, the noise around the two of you a dull roar. 

“But?” you offer, sensing his hesitance. 

“But,” he agrees, nodding. “When Life created humans, I wondered what the difference was between us. I sort of looked like them and I talked like them, but I wanted to know what it was like to be them. And dreams… They are wonderful. Beautiful. But I was afraid they weren’t real, so I started to visit here. To go places. To see if life was the same as dreams.” 

“Is it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not better, it’s not worse. It’s just different. But I did learn that dreams are as real as life. Perhaps you cannot always see them and feel them depending on where you are, but anything someone dreams here is real there.” 

“That’s sort of comforting.” 

Taehyung smiles. “It is. Plus, I really enjoy people. They have an edge to them that dreams don’t.” 

Someone catches Taehyung’s attention. He turns in his seat, head craning as though he senses something. You follow his line of sight to where a young man descends the stairs leading up to the second floor. He is unlike anything you’ve ever seen, with dark, silky hair tucked behind his ears, full lips that pull into a smile as someone greets him, and sharp, dark eyes that crinkle when he laughs.

He’s beautiful. Suddenly you think that this might be what a dream truly looks like. Taehyung is all dark and shadows, but the man Taehyung watches is lightness and magic, his face so perfect that you cannot help but imagine it must be the result of someone carefully painting every feature. 

Your eyes flicker back to Taehyung when the man leans on the bar, talking to the barmaid behind the counter. Taehyung doesn’t move. You don’t even think he’s breathing. He sits in his chair, knuckles paling under the grip he has on the back of his seat, his eyes filled with such sudden longing that you have to look away. 

“Who is that?” you ask gently. Taehyung doesn’t seem to hear you. He watches and watches, wanting to look nowhere else but at the bar. “Taehyung?”

“His name is Jimin.” 

“That’s a pretty name.”

Taehyung nods. “He’s like you.”

“Like me?”

“He dreams loud enough for us to hear it. For me to hear it. I’ve been coming to this place long before he existed. A silly coincidence that he exists here, too.” 

“Fate, perhaps?” 

That makes Taehyung turn around. His expression is dark and he’s frowning. “Don’t start talking about Hoseok,” Taehyung mutters. “Lest he show up.”

You didn’t mean Yoongi’s sibling Fate, but you realize that’s who Taehyung is talking about. Your eyes drift back to where Jimin is at the bar, sipping a glass of amber liquid. As though he senses eyes on him, his gaze sweeps the bar until it lands on Taehyung, who straightens immediately. 

Jimin smiles and it’s like watching the first ray of sun break over the horizon. You can’t help but blink at his radiant beauty, completely taken aback by it as Jimin pushes off of the bar and begins heading your direction. 

Taehyung swivels in his chair, taking in a few calming breaths. You giggle and he looks up at you, giving you a pitiful smile. You reach across the table and squeeze his hand quickly. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!”

“You definitely are.”

Before Taehyung can hiss a rebuttal at you, Jimin sidesteps a woman and grins at Taehyung. He drags his gaze to you and startles, as though he had not realized you were there, eyes going round and mouth forming an ‘o’. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with anyone,” Jimin says. His voice is soft and smooth, immediately comforting. “I wanted to come say hello.”

“Hi,” Taehyung breathes, blinking up at Jimin as though he is lost in starlight. Perhaps he is, you think. “Your hair is longer than the last time I saw you.”

Jimin flushes, a hand coming up to touch the ends of his hair gently. “Yeah, I thought I would grow it out.”

“It looks great.” 

For a moment, they stare at one another, Taehyung grinning with his eyes gleaming, and Jimin soft with his eyes scrunched. You look at the table, trying not to disrupt whatever spell they’re under as they peer at one another, but it seems Jimin senses your presence still. His eyes flicker to you and he raises a brow, questioning.

Taehyung fumbles to introduce you, turning and giving you a sheepish grin. You smile and stretch your hand over to shake Jimin’s. His hands are small and delicate but his grip is firm. “It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung wanted to show me this place because he enjoys the people so much - I believe that includes you.” 

Jimin smirks and shrugs a shoulder while Taehyung looks for a chair, yanking it away from someone to give Jimin a place to sit. He does, throwing Taehyung a grateful smile. “Hmm, is that so? Has he said nice things about me?”

“The nicest. In fact, the whole reason we came here is because he wanted to introduce me to the amazing Jimin.” 

Taehyung shoots you a look that tells you to shut up, but you hide your grin in your tankard as Jimin raises a brow, glancing at Taehyung. 

Watching Taehyung and Jimin is comedic and sweet. Taehyung isn’t an entirely different person around Jimin, but he becomes softer at the edges, his smiles gentler and his laughs louder. The longing in Taehyung’s gaze when he thinks Jimin isn’t looking is palpable, and even as a bystander and a friend, you feel a pang watching the two of them dance around one another. 

For his part, Jimin seems equally enthralled. He watches Taehyung with rapt attention, asking questions and touching Taehyung gently everywhere he can - the tops of Taehyung’s hands, his arm, his elbow. When Taehyung turns around to watch the table next to you topple over, you realize he’s unaware that Jimin is looking at him as though begging for Taehyung to see. 

You see. And you want. 

Never before had your parents inspired much desire for love in you. While they worked well together, you still can’t call what they had happy or loving. Functional, sure. Successful, even. But they did not look at one another the way Taehyung and Jimin seem to, and you can’t help but suddenly feel like that is something you want.

Someone to look at you when they think you’re not looking in a way that implies you are their sun and moon. Someone who smiles with such mirth at something you do or say that you can feel the heat of it. 

Jimin gets up to refill the drinks, scooping yours with a grin before vanishing in the crowd. Taehyung watches him go, craning his neck to ensure he has eyes on Jimin as he makes his way to the bar.

“Have you told him you’re in love with him?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, eyes never leaving where Jimin is leaning over the bar to order. “There’s no point.” 

“What? Why not?”

“I’m a dream. He’s a human. We could never be something.” 

“Oh. Surely there’s a way?” 

Taehyung turns to look at you, the joy on his face slipping to be replaced with a soft sadness. He shakes his head again, picking at the splinters on the table. “I would be no good for him. We live in two different worlds… I come and go… He deserves a normal, human life. We could never be something.”

Jimin starts to head back toward the table. Taehyung shakes off the melancholy and smiles just as bright when Jimin returns, as though he wasn’t sad only a moment ago. You accept the refilled drink from Jimin with a weak smile.

Taehyung’s words cycle through your mind as the two men fall into giggling conversation, and all you can think about is a pair of dark cat eyes, a soft raspy voice, and a man who is made of dreams.

We could never be something. 

-

“I was starting to worry, you know?” 

Yoongi’s voice makes you blink. You realize you’re standing among the wisteria, the breeze carrying their sweet scent over your warm skin. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. He’s leaning against a tree, his long hair down and dancing in the breeze. The thin white shirt he wears does little to hide the lines of his stomach and chest today, making you avert your eyes. 

“Why?” you ask, voice steadier than you feel. 

You walk toward a low-hanging vine, bringing your hands up to brush along the purple petals. You feel the tree shiver under your touch. You sense it, like it purrs, a response that is hard to explain but you innately know. 

“It took you longer than usual to fall asleep.”

“Can you not see me when I’m not asleep?”

“I could, but prying is rude. I only see you when you come to me.”

You turn to look at him sharply. He seems a little smug at that, the corners of his full lips twitching like he’s fighting a smirk. Your heart skips a beat for a moment before Taehyung’s words from that night play in your mind. We could never be something. 

And yet Yoongi is implying it’s you who visits him. 

You scowl and turn away from him suddenly. Yoongi makes a sound like a sigh and pushes off of the tree, his footsteps quiet as a whisper. “Have I upset you?” 

“I want to go to sleep.”

He hesitates. You cannot see his expression, but you can picture it perfectly: brows drawn together, mouth pouted slightly, head cocked.  His confusion is evident when he says, “You are asleep.”

“You know what I mean.” 

Silence, for a moment. Then, in that soft, rasping voice that you know so well, he murmurs, “Goodnight, then.” 

-

Silence greets you when you wake up the next morning. Your home is still empty - you have not seen either of your parents since you arrived the night before. Either you’re coming and going at hours they’re not around or they’re avoiding you. The latter is most likely, and you certainly don’t mind. 

Your day goes similarly to the day before. This time, when you walk through the woods, you feel a little more of a spark. You’re sure it has to do with your conversation with Taehyung, his words about dreams and reality being different but equally powerful pouring a little bit of magic back into the woods you loved so dearly.

Still, you miss the other realm and the House of Dreams, even if you’re a little embarrassed by your dream last night, recalling the way you dismissed Yoongi. 

Sitting on the ground with your back pressed against a cypress tree, you let out a heavy sigh and close your eyes, your arms hugging around your middle. You try not to think too hard about the way Yoongi looked leaning against the tree, dark eyes drinking you in. 

Yoongi occupies more than his fair share of thoughts. You hate it, the way your mind strays to him, thinking this is something Yoongi would like or Yoongi would find this funny. Only two weeks and he and Taehyung are suddenly all you know, your experiences with them painting most of your thoughts. 

Thoughts of Taehyung don’t plague you, though. 

The fluttering feeling every time you think of Yoongi has not faded with time or distance. It might be easier if he didn’t visit your dreams every night - or if you didn’t visit him in your dreams, which you don’t know how to do. 

But Taehyung’s forlorn words come drifting back to you, reminding you that there is some distinction between humans and dreams. That even for Taehyung, it cannot work. 

When you return home, your parents still aren’t there. You busy yourself with lunch and then begin practicing your letters, tracing them until your hand is cramping and your head is starting to hurt. You manage to take up most of the afternoon that way, focused solely on your studies and trying to read through your work.

Just as evening falls, Taehyung appears in the yard, hands on his hips as he looks up at your window, whistling to catch your attention. You grin when you see him, happy to have a friend, even if it’s just Taehyung. You don’t ask why Yoongi doesn’t come with him - the Eternal is busy, you’re sure - but you’re pleased to just have Taehyung. 

It becomes a routine. It’s not as thrilling as your life in the House of Dreams, but it isn’t as terrible as you thought it would be. The few times that you do see your parents, they glare at you as though you have become something evil in their house, lurking and stealing their joy. 

You say nothing to them and they stay away from you. 

It’s the same in town. You only visit with Taehyung, otherwise you are too afraid to go on your own. The villagers say nothing when they see the two of you walking around and visiting the old church, but they glare and you catch them doing the signs to ward off evil as you pass by. 

Still, Taehyung makes it worth it. He visits you nightly, whisking you away to the Desert Rose, which has become a refuge for you. You’re no better at teleporting, but you manage not to vomit on his shoes each time you do it. 

Tonight, the energy is thrumming at the Desert Rose. Your gaze lingers longer on those around you and you even introduce yourself to the people that Taehyung is familiar with. Though Taehyung opts to play a game of dice, you do not. You’re content to watch, standing over his shoulder with your arms crossed over your chest.

You feel… alive. Just like Taehyung described when he started coming here. It’s so different from your life before, and after over a week of being around people who seem to spill over with joy without restraint, you feel yourself loosening up. Becoming something a little different. Someone who wants. Someone who wants openly. 

You think about Yoongi. Once he’d told you that he wasn’t just Eternal of dreams. He also has power over desire, and he believes in indulgence. He wants to teach you to indulge more. It suddenly makes all the more sense that Taehyung likes it here. He’s someone who dives in head first to things, taking any bet someone throws his way and snatching drinks off of passing trays. 

Even his desire for Jimin is open and obvious, though you’re sure Taehyung doesn’t know that. 

It’s a lovely night. You feel warm all over, the drink getting to you as you guzzle down the remainder of your cider, which you favor far more than the ale. Jimin clambors onto the table, a cup in hand as he starts yelling the words to the song the band is playing in the corner. 

Taehyung begins to slam his wooden cup on the table in time with the beat, yelling the words and standing up as the room joins in, stamping their feet and slamming on tables. You don’t know the words but you laugh loudly, slamming your palms against the top of the table. They sting with the force of your slap, but it feels good. 

You feel good. Happy. Drunk. A little dizzy as the table wobbles and you dive out of the way as Jimin comes tumbling down. It doesn’t stop you from taking a shower of beer from Jimin’s cup, dousing you in warm liquid as you shriek and laugh. 

Taehyung catches Jimin, of course. They’re a tangled mess of limbs and wet with beer all the same, pointing at you and laughing as you blink through the drink dripping down your face. You flick beer at them with the liquid on your hands, making them howl. 

“Gross! Jimin!”

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps through the laughter, his arms slung tight around Taehyung’s neck as Jimin leans into him. “I slipped!”

“You owe me a new shirt!” 

Jimin nods, grinning so broadly his eyes are crescents as he stands properly and beckons you. “Come on, both of you. I’ll get you new shirts that aren’t soaked. 

Upstairs is a series of private rooms. The hall is lit with flickering sconces and the plush carpet mutes your footsteps. Jimin leads you and Taehyung, giggling, to a door. He thrusts it open and the three of you tip inside, stopping short at the scene in front of you.

Your hands fly to your mouth to mute your gasp, but Taehyung and Jimin collapse into another fit of laughter. If the two people in the bed are bothered by the interruption, they don’t show it. They are a tableau of pleasure, a woman laying back on the bed, arching upward as she lets out a moan. Her skin is slick with sweat, nipples hard as she teases them with one hand, another hand slipping between her legs to cradle the head of someone there.

The shock roots you to the spot. You can’t look away, completely hypnotized by the way the person between the woman’s legs moans, pressing their mouth further into her, the wet smack of their mouth loud over the woman’s trembling moans. 

You’ve never seen such a raw, carnal exchange. As Taehyung apologizes and grabs you and Jimin, pulling you back out into the hallway, you know you’ll never forget that momentary vision. Even as Jimin directs you to the right room to change your shirt in, you replay the scene over and over in your head, thinking of a different detail every single time: the pleasure on the woman’s face, the delicate bow of her back, the soft swells of her breasts, the wet sounds of the mouth between her legs. 

It haunts you. You swallow thickly when you’re done changing, skin still smelling like beer. Your mind wanders to Yoongi, wondering if this is what he was talking about when he spoke of desire. If he also meant physical desire, the indulgence of the erotic variety. 

The thought shames you so thoroughly you’re silent the rest of the night. You’re embarrassed by your immediate curiosity - angry that you even entertained the thought of being in that position with Yoongi, no matter how fleeting the idea was. 

Yoongi certainly did not mean he was going to teach you that - did he?

You shake the thoughts from your head and focus on reality. Of course he didn’t mean that. Taehyung was right when he spoke about the relationships between humans and dreams - it could never be something. 

-

Sweat trickles down your neck slowly. You feel every inch of it, your skin sensitive and over-warm. Your stomach clenches and your hands twist in your sheets as a hot mouth presses against your throat, teeth scraping, tongue licking. 

An inferno grows inside of you as the mouth sinks lower. You hear your heaving breaths, loud and ragged. Your heart beats in your ears, the staccato almost louder than the whimper that leaves your mouth when a wet, messy kiss is placed on your collarbone. 

It’s madness. It’s tortuous. It’s glorious, this feeling thrumming through you, making you twist your head to the side, muscles clenching and letting loose over and over again, your body completely at war with itself.

But it feels so good. 

One of your hands shoots to the silky, dark hair of the person kissing your chest. You card your fingers through soft strands, tugging a little. A deep, throaty moan escapes the lips pressed to your skin, breath hot and warm. 

Dark eyes meet yours, lips parted and swollen, Yoongi’s pupils blown and -

Panic explodes. You realize it’s Yoongi kissing you this way. Yoongi’s hands skimming up your sides, Yoongi’s mouth pressing searing kisses to your flesh, Yoongi’s moan that is falling from his lips, honey sweet. 

“We can’t,” you whisper, though dream-Yoongi just stares at you, eyes fathomless. “We could never be something.”

“Of course we can,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. “You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” 

The weight of his gaze is blazing. You feel your skin burn under the heat of it, you feel like it’s harder to breathe, you feel the sweat run down your spine, your arms, you feel like you’re overheating, it’s hot it’s too-

-

You wake up to something screeching. For a moment, daylight blinds you. You hold your hands in front of your face, shielding your eyes from the light. But the light is an inferno of heat against your hand, making you gasp and choke on thick air as you blink sleep away, trying to make sense of where you are. 

Fire. It isn’t daylight you’ve woken up to, it’s fire. 

Leaping up from bed, you throw your sheets off, scrambling to push yourself against the wall. The flames are already high, licking toward the ceiling and filling your room with thick, grey smoke as the fire eats at the old wood of your house. 

The screech comes again, the shutters on your window rattling. Heart pounding, you slide your hand along the wall, fingers trembling as you press them into the wood, trying to find the metal latch to open them. You cover the lower half of your face with your opposite arm, coughing into it. 

Your fingers slip on the latch, sweaty and shaking. You inch closer to the window, getting a solid grip on the metal and flipping it upward. The latch clacks and the windows swing open, a gust of wind entering the room. It makes matters worse, the oxygen fueling the fire into a rage as it climbs higher and jumps towards your bed. 

You look frantically around your room, realizing you can’t take anything. The writing desk in the corner is aflame, all of the sheets of paper and your hard-earned practice curling into smoke as they’re consumed, your letters from Yoongi turning to ash. 

“No!” you sob, realizing those things are lost forever.

Again, there’s a wild screech. You turn to look out the window to see a large, brown owl - Guardian, you realize - screeching, flapping its great wings, gold eyes fixated on the fire. It yells at you again, as though imploring you to move. 

You take a breath and dive out the window. For a moment as you fall toward the ground, you’re reminded that this is the second time you’re having to use it to escape danger. That thought sinks like a stone in your stomach, going down, down, down until it rests weighty in your gut.

The smack of the ground rattles you. Every part of you hurts, bones jolting as you roll until you’re flat on your back, gasping as the air leaves your lungs momentarily, knocked out of you. Scrambling up despite your limbs protesting in pain, you look up at the fire crawling over your house. 

That’s when you notice it - the noise and the yelling of voices. Inside your home, with the roaring and crackling of the fire, you couldn’t hear the crowd outside. Now, you see them in full. They carry torches and farm tools, some of them with axes and hoes, others with scythes. 

They don’t see you yet, giving you a long moment to stare open-mouthed as the pieces of the puzzle slide together. They’ve set your home on fire because of you - they’ve tried to kill you. Because they think you’re a demon and because they think you’re an evil creature. 

Heart in your throat, you scan the lines of the faces. Toward the edge, you see your parents. A group of women consoles your mother, holding her by the shoulders gently as she stares into the orange flame. Your father stands a few feet away, almost by himself, watching and watching and watching. 

They knew you were asleep. And your window had not been closed before bed - you’d been leaving it open at night so Guardian could come and go as he pleased. 

You sit there on the ground, staring in shock, for too long. Someone notices you and points, screaming something that you cannot hear over the blood rushing in your ears. Panic seizes you and you scramble to your feet, sliding a few times as the crowd runs at you.

There’s no time to see what your parents do. The image of them watching their home burn with the thought of you inside is fresh in your memory, a razor-sharp cut that flays you open as you turn and run. Run toward the woods where Nathaniel chased you on that fateful night. 

Run to the woods you almost died in. Run to the woods where Yoongi swooped in and made a promise to protect you. 

Darkness descends. You think for a moment as you enter the woods that you won’t get lucky a second time, that your luck has run out. It’s the panic that scrambles your thoughts, and the memories of Nathaniel chasing you through these woods make you stumble and fall. 

You don’t make it far. You trip over a tree root and tumble into strong arms. The smell of clove and cinnamon is overpowering as you look up at Yoongi, who pulls you into his chest. You let him, sliding your arms around his middle and pressing your face into his neck as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I’ve got you, little lamb.” His voice is dark as the shadows that wrap around you, cool and soothing to the touch. “They cannot hurt you.” 

As Yoongi whisks you away like that fateful night, you hear the echoing voice scream behind you. Devil! Demon King! The Dark God!

-

“It’s my fault,” Yoongi murmurs, cradling your face to inspect it for the tenth time. He’s crouching in front of you, dark eyes wild as he inspects your face for any damage. You pull your jaw from his grasp - even if his touch tingles pleasantly - and look in the other direction. “I should have known.”

“Yes,” Taehyung snaps behind Yoongi, arms crossed and presence thundering. “You should have.” 

There is no fire going in the library tonight. You have a feeling Yoongi has extinguished it for obvious reasons, but you say nothing. You look over Yoongi’s dark head to where Taehyung is raging, his face pinched with anger. You give him a look and he tosses his hands in the air. 

“What?” he demands. “It’s true.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m not going to lie to him. He should have known sending you back was an idiotic idea. Thinking anyone would have accepted you was an oversight.”

Yoongi grits his teeth and stands. You watch as he visibly tries to control his frustration, taking a step back from you. Tonight, he’s dressed in all black. His cloak is still on and his necklaces pool at his throat, the silver cold in the dark of the library. His hair is pulled back out of his face and you think he looks like the real Eternal, tonight. 

He turns to Taehyung. “You know why I sent her back.”

“Yes, your fucked up sense of morality and-”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting right here,” you snap. You ball your fists in your lap. You’re still dressed in night clothes and the scent of ash and sweat is heavy on your skin. You stare at your hands. “I want to go to bed.” 

“Alright.” Yoongi’s extended hand appears in front of you. You drag your eyes up to meet his. Gone is the anger and severity, replaced only with a soft, almost fond expression. “I’ll walk you.”

Putting your hand in Yoongi's, you let him pull you out of the chair. 

You could be mad at him if you tried. Perhaps it would be easy to blame Yoongi for sending you back to keep some semblance of normalcy in your life. Maybe you would feel lighter if you got angry with him for promising to protect you, but only being able to physically do so, unable to shield you from the hatred of your community. 

If you tried, perhaps you could blame him for not letting you drown in the first place. For bringing you here with the fantasy that you could exist with one foot in each world. 

You’re not mad at him, though. Unlike Taehyung, you don’t need to wonder why Yoongi wanted you to spend two weeks in the real world. The real world is yours. It’s where you belong. To want some sort of normalcy for you or hope that you’d be able to pick up your life there anew was perhaps shortsighted, but rooted in the desire to do good for you.

So you’re not angry with Yoongi, though you’re not sure you’re pleased either. 

The walk to your room is silent. Yoongi has let go of your hand but he walks close enough that your arms brush, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing, and he seems content to let you keep your thoughts to yourself. 

This isn’t how you wanted to see him for the first time since your two weeks spent in your realm.

The inside of your room is warm, but there’s no fire. You almost ask if he’s doused every flame in the house, and protest that you’re not afraid, but you don’t. He follows you into your room and shuts the door behind him. You walk toward the chaise and sit on it, looking up at where he hovers by the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes finding yours. The emotions there are deep, but unreadable. “It was foolish of me to think they’d accept you as you were. Foolish to think that maybe the relationship with your parents might mend.” 

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I am thousands of years old. Humankind has not changed so much in their ability to fear the unknown and react violently. I do know better, but I…”  You wait for him to explain further, but he doesn’t. Yoongi lets the sentence drift off into the night. Instead of finishing it, he ventures, “Are you sure you’re unharmed?” 

“Yeah, Guardian was screeching at the window.” 

“Guardian?”

“Yeah, the owl. I assumed you sent it to watch over me.” 

Yoongi frowns. “No, that’s what Taehyung was for. I did not…”

“What?” You see the look on his face change, shifting from confused to steel calm. “What is it?” 

“Hoseok,” Yoongi mutters, turning to exit your room. “Try to get some sleep. I have a meddling owl to deal with.” 

As he moves to close the door, you lean forward. “Yoongi?” He looks up, eyes wide, expression soft. He looks like a dark star, just then. The light from the window makes him glow from within, his eyes endless pools, his power ebbing in the room, a constant energy. “Thank you.”

His mouth turns downward. “For what?”

“Saving me. Again.”

His eyes darken. “Your safety will always be paramount to me. I’ll do better.” 

“I think you’re doing the best you are able.” 

“Thank you for saying so.”

Silence hangs between the two of you. It’s heavy, filled with friction that wasn’t there before. You squirm where you sit, suddenly unable to meet the set of eyes pinned to you. You’d  forgotten what his gaze could do to you in person, and now the full force of it is dizzying. 

“Goodnight, little lamb.”

-

A gentle scratch sounds on the other side of the window. You look up from your writing desk to the windows facing the mountains. Beyond the first sprawling peaks, you see the tallest of them all, the dark mountain wreathed in shadow and lightning. 

The thunder rolls, vibrating your bones. You stare at the mountain, feeling the hair at the back of your neck stand on end. You grip the quill tight. 

Beneath the hum of thunder, you hear a scratching on the glass again. You squint, but you see nothing there. Just open air and those ominous mountains in the back, watching you as you scrawl your letters. 

Carefully, you set the quill down and get up. The floor is cold as you walk toward the window, which is strange. The floor is always warm in your room, as are the walls and most of the House of Dreams, fueled by whatever magic lives through Yoongi. 

Near the glass, you almost feel how cold the window is. You frown and lift a hand, pressing a single finger against a pane. It’s freezing to the touch and you yank your hand back, perplexed as you stare at the single fingerprint left by your warm skin. 

The fingerprint fades but the scratching sound does not. A gentle scritch scritch scritch, like a nail on the window. 

“My betrothed,” someone whispers. Your blood runs cold and you whirl around, expecting to find someone standing in your bathroom. “Won’t you open the window for me? It’s so cold outside.” 

Fear turns your stomach into acid. Your hands begin to shake as you stare into the emptiness of your room, suddenly feeling like it’s darker. Did the ceilings get taller? Is your room blurry at the edges? The scratching on the window intensifies, and with trembling lips, you turn to look over your shoulder.

There’s nothing outside, but there’s a shadowy reflection on the glass. A little taller than you. A little wider. 

“Betrothed,” Nathaniel whispers again. “Won’t you let me in to reunite?” 

For a moment, there is silence. The shadow doesn’t move. You don’t dare breathe. The shadow leaps at you and a scream tears through you -

Hands press you into something soft. You kick and scream, lashing out. Sheets tangle your legs and stick to your sweaty skin. Suddenly it feels like you can’t breathe and you thrash wildly, screaming at the top of your lungs as you claw at whatever’s holding you down.

Panic like never before seizes you. Your head smacks into something hard and it knocks you backward, suddenly dizzy as a hand comes up to your head automatically. It hurts where your fingers press into the skin, and you’re momentarily subdued by the way the room spins; the pain morphs your panic into confusion.

Breathing heavily, you blink your eyes rapidly, tears streaming down your face and vision a little blurry as you try and put the pieces together. Finally, you realize Taehyung is sitting on the floor next to your bed with his hand pressed against his forehead, in a similar fashion to your current state. Yoongi stands next to him, hands held up tentatively, as though he is about to grab you or has just let you go. 

Silence hangs in the air, your breathing ragged. Your head - which you can surmise you’ve smacked against Taehyung’s - throbs wildly. As though sensing your discomfort and sticky thoughts, Yoongi’s eyes flicker away from your gaze to your head.

“May I fix that?” he asks slowly, voice gentle. “You smacked heads quite hard. I’m concerned you may be concussed.” 

“Concussed,” you repeat back slowly. The word feels heavy on your tongue. “Right.”

Yoongi’s face colors with concern and he gestures toward you, asking permission again. It takes you another minute to put it together, but you nod dumbly, watching as he steps forward very slowly, dark eyes looking for any sign of protest or panic from you.

When you don’t bolt or swing at him, he takes another step toward you, hands reaching up toward your skull. You flinch when he reaches near and he stops, hands hovering. You can feel the heat of his skin a hair's breadth away, feel the magic skimming along him where he hesitates. 

You look up at Yoongi. His eyes are wide and full of concern, his brows pulled up. His tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously as his eyes shift from your head to your eyes, trying to assess what to do. You smell cinnamon and clove and it calms you a little. 

This is Yoongi. Not Nathaniel. Yoongi, who saved you from the grips of that hateful man and who brought you here. Somewhere that made you happy.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. You feel tired suddenly, like your adrenaline is waning and the aftereffects are bleeding you out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, pressing his hands gently to your head. You wince, the lump there giving a painful throb as he does. 

“Maybe apologize,” Taehyung mutters from his spot on the floor. “Are you going to give me magic hand, too?”

“Silence, Taehyung.” Yoongi’s voice is cutting. It’s a voice you’ve never heard him use with Taehyung, your eyes shooting up to his in shock. He pays you no mind, focused on his hands. 

Warmth emanates from his palms. Immediately you feel the tingle of magic. It’s soothing, making your eyes flutter as you become dizzy again. You let the warmth wash over you, accompanied by a peculiar array of senses: dark spicy smells; the feeling of velvet against your skin; the taste of cherry wine; a warm breath against your lips.

You shiver, head rolling back a little as it grows heavy and you grow drowsy suddenly, limbs weighted, mind fading. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t know that was a dream.” Yoongi grimaces and says nothing. “Why didn’t that feel like a dream, Yoongi?”

“Sleep,” Yoongi murmurs, and his voice feels very far away. “You’ll be fine, now. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Thank you.”

“An easy fix.” 

Yoongi removes his hand and you catch his wrist gently, eyes opening for a moment. “No,” you slur, speech heavy as the exhaustion pulls at you. “Thank you for saving me.”

You don’t know if you mean before, or when your neighbors came for you, or now. Maybe you mean all of it. Maybe you mean saving you from a life that you hated and bringing you here. You mean it nonetheless, though you’re unsure from where the bravery came to say it.

Dropping Yoongi’s wrist, you fall backward unceremoniously onto your bed. There is no fear of Nathaniel scratching at the glass anymore, your mind mostly empty, save for the smell of cinnamon and clove. 

Yoongi and Taehyung gather to leave your room, and as you fade, you catch the tiniest bit of conversation from Taehyung. “... need to teach her. It’s only going to get worse… spinner.” 

Sleep takes you. 

-

Being back in the House of Dreams feels like home. Though the lingering feeling of hot flame and the look on your parents’ faces as they watch their home burn still haunts you, you feel safer than you have in the last week. 

In the House of Dreams, there's no one to mutter prayers and sign wards against evil as you pass by. There’s no one glaring at you - except Taehyung, who pouts when you steal the last of the honey for your toast at breakfast. It’s just Yoongi and Taehyung, who talk more chipper than usual at breakfast. 

You eye Yoongi carefully. He sits at the head of the table, dressed in a beautiful, jade-colored silk shirt. His hair is pulled back in a bun, earrings dangling as he leads forward and plucks melon from the bowl in front of him. 

Yoongi lifts the fruit to his mouth. You pause chewing your toast, eyes focused on the way he bites into the fruit, lips plush around it, a bead of juice running down his chin. Suddenly you’re thinking about the night at The Desert Rose, a head between legs, a back that’s arched, skin sweaty-

Taehyung clears his throat from across the table and draws your attention. He’s staring at you with thinly veiled amusement, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You scowl and take a large bite of your toast before swallowing what's in your mouth, feeling heat bloom in your cheeks and neck. 

Yoongi is none the wiser, chewing happily on his fruit as he scratches Tiara under her chin. She chirps like a bird and purrs like a cat, letting out small curls of smoke everytime she puffs happily. 

Your mouth twitches in a smile as you look at your plate, happy to be back with them. 

“I want you to come to the Dream Tower with me today,” Yoongi ventures lightly. You snap your gaze up in surprise. He looks casual, as though he’s not offering you to come to the place he works, filled with magic and dreams. “I think you could help me.”

“Me?”

His mouth quirks. “Is there another human prone to trouble around here that I’m not aware of?” 

“I thought you blamed yourself?”

“So I do. But yes - you.” 

“How do you want me to help?”

Yoongi grins as he pops another piece of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You’ll see.” 

Despite your excitement and the promise of a look inside  Yoongi’s lair, even him asking for your help doesn’t earn you a break from daily reading and writing lessons. When Yoongi gestures to the assigned work on your desk, you throw him a severe look followed by a pout. As endeared as he seems, he is unwavering, patting your desk chair as he walks by. 

You’re not really mad. You fall into an easy calm as you sit down and scoot up toward the desk. The fire is low and crackling in the fireplace today and the library smells faintly of cardamom as you work. Tiara flights around the second story of the room, chittering and following Yoongi - who seems to be organizing the shelves. 

Taehyung vanishes to do whatever it is he does during the day. You’re not even sure if it’s day in your world. You hope he will take you to The Desert Rose again to see Jimin and to drink cider. You love the warmth of the crowd and the loud bustle. 

The House of Dreams is quiet. 

Time slips as you work. You lose yourself in swirling letters and short reading passages, so much so that when there is a tingling presence near your shoulder, you flinch, ripping your quill across the page and splattering ink. 

Yoongi tsks and apologizes, grabbing an ink stained cloth to wipe the spilled liquid from the desk. His proximity makes your head spin, the edge of his hips grazing your shoulder as he leans over you to clean the mess you’ve made. 

Mouth drying, you drop the quill and flex your hand, coughing out an apology as you try to organize your thoughts that spill like the ink on the desk at his nearness. 

Being away from him almost made you forget how dizzying his presence could be. Yoongi regards your work in silence, but all you can focus on is the measured sound of his breathing, the warmth radiating from him, the curve of his mouth, the juice running down his-

“Ready?”

“What?” you ask, blinking and looking up at him owlishly. He gazes down at you, cocking a brow. It’s obvious he had asked you a question. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening?” 

“What were you doing?”

“... Staring.”

“At?”

“The wall?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” he questions, his voice laced with teasing. 

You scowl and shove your chair backward into his stomach, knocking him back. He lets out a loud oof and a bit of laughter as you stand and stretch, hyperaware that he’s been in a rather cheeky mood since breakfast. 

Together, you begin your walk to the tower. Tiara comes along, jumping up on Yoongi’s shoulder and curling herself around him like a scarf, her tail wrapped gently around his neck. She regards you with distaste and her tongue flickers out to taste the air, a curl of smoke escaping her nose as she huffs.

Fighting the urge to stick your tongue out at a dragon, you opt to walk in comfortable silence. 

As you do, your thoughts inevitably drift to the night before and the dream that didn’t feel like a dream. For the most part, you feel like you can tell when you’re dreaming. There’s always an opaque feeling to your dreams, something a little off. 

Now, you’re worried that perhaps you can’t tell the difference. You think that maybe you should ask Yoongi if he can help you tell the difference between being awake and dreaming, but your desire to ask is stopped as you reach the foot of stairs you’ve never climbed before. 

Yoongi looks down at you as he begins ascending, giving you a gummy smile that sends your pulse galloping after him. You curse your traitor heart, trying to remember what Taehyung said to you about the relationship between dreams and humans. It could never work. But… you’re here. In Yoongi’s home, and you don’t know how long you’re allowed to stay - if you’re ever supposed to go back again.

Both of you seem to completely ignore that you were brought back to the dream realm ahead of schedule, that maybe going back is no longer an option. 

There are doors leading to rooms as you ascend the stairs. Yoongi ignores all of them in favor of climbing up, up, and up. Your calves burn by the time you make it to the top, pausing to catch your breath and sweep your eyes across the large, circular room. 

It’s stunning. Glancing up, your mouth falls open in surprise when you see that there is no ceiling, but a mass of writhing cosmos and something like a night sky. The nebulous display casts a lavender and blue glow on the room below, the two-tone light shifting and moving. 

There are all manner of things in the room. Tables covered in papers, rich rugs with different designs, chairs and bookshelves and curiosity cabinets and glass cases full of glowing things that you cannot identify. Tiara hops off of Yoongi’s shoulder and floats on small wings toward a pile of blankets, twigs, and leaves that looks like a nest.

What demands your attention most, though, is the massive stone dais in the room, with a stone column about waist high with something that looks like a bowl carved into the top. From where you stand, you can see there’s liquid in the bowl that moves and shimmers with its own glow. Occasionally, a sparkle or wisp of color drifts from the cool surface.

Energy vibrates in the air. You can feel it like a static on your skin and taste it like a buzz on your tongue. You’re drawn to the dais, taking a step forward and halting. It feels like a hum shivers through you. You look at Yoongi, questioning. 

“The dream pool,” he answers, as though you have any idea what that is. 

He walks toward it and looks back at you, hesitating before he offers a hand. Excitement shoots through you as you take his hand and he pulls you toward it. Your hand tingles where you hold his. Even when you reach the dais and he lets go, there’s pins and needles left behind. 

“This is where I help create dreams for those who can’t do it on their own.” 

The liquid in the basin brightens as Yoongi steps up close. You watch as a watercolor of lights splashes across his face. He looks down into the bowl lovingly, a soft smile on his face, and so much adoration in his eyes that you find yourself watching him instead of the magical water in the bowl. 

“This room is full of things that help inspire dreams. I make everything myself but Taehyung likes to help - he likes to decorate and fill the room with items that inspire creativity.”

“Somehow I think dream personified doesn’t need it.”

He shoots you a grin. “You’d be surprised. Come look.”

Tentatively, you step up next to him. You’re aware of how close you stand, his sleeves brushing yours as he places a hand on the basin. It comes up to your stomach and is two feet in diameter. The water looks so much deeper than you thought. You’re unable to see the bottom, an illusion that makes you dizzy.

Like the sky above, the water shimmers and moves with its own set of stars and colors. It feels alive, like whatever power is in the dream pool recognizes you and wakes up, spinning as you look into the glittering surface. 

“I can feel and hear people dream,” Yoongi explains. “It’s like a frequency that I can tap into. I can turn it on and off at a whim. Those who don’t struggle to dream are so much quieter than those who cannot dream. I listen for those who cannot, and I come here and focus on them in my mind’s eye before creating them a dream. I pour in thoughts, feelings, scents, sounds, memories and the like into this bowl. I think it, and so it appears.” 

“How?”

“What you’d call magic. Really it’s just divine power. This is a part of me,” he says, tapping the rim of the basin. “Just like dreams are.”

“How can I help you do… this?” you ask, gesturing wildly to the water.

Yoongi’s smile is angelic. “You have the raw capability of a dreamer. Someone who dreams so powerfully and loudly that it can’t help but catch my attention.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your imagination and your ability to come up with things is more innate than most people. You’re an innovator, a great conjurer of stories and fantasies. It’s a rare gift in humans. Some call you Spinners - you can spin dreams up just as easily as I can, with practice, but you cannot do so without a tool like this basin.” 

“A spinner.” You remember the night before, hearing the word on Taehyung’s lips. “Are there others?” 

He nods. “Under fifty in the entire world. I believe you’ve met another one. He’s the one Taehyung visits.”

“Jimin?” 

“Mhmm. He’s like you. You have no power though, not in your world. Just raw ability.”

“So if I were to use this… pool of dreams, I could give people dreams.”

He nods, smiling. You smile back at him, his happiness infectious. You like the way his eyes crinkle when he grins broadly at you, the way his cheeks tint pink. It is strange to think that this soft man in front of you is also the same dark, powerful god who has swept in to save you, whose voice haunts your dreams and whose phantom touch lingers in all of the places that it shouldn’t. 

Licking his lips and rolling his shoulders, Yoongi takes his stance at the basin. You watch, fascinated as he sweeps a hand over the surface, not touching the water. It ripples an entire rainbow of colors, casting shadows on his face when he peers down into the water as the surface smoothes out like a mirror. 

An opaque image materializes on the surface. You watch as Yoongi concentrates. Slowly, things begin appearing. A cerulean ocean, waves rolling gently against a sandy beach. Foam clings to the sand. Starfish of every color - blue, green, red - begin to dot the beach. A gull cries above, so clear it feels like you’re there. Then you smell it - the salt, the brine. The subtle scent of driftwood. A breeze blows against your face, carrying the cool ocean mist. 

You let out a laugh as Yoongi smiles, his eyes never leaving the images unfolding in the basin. You watch as a dolphin crests a wave, earning a gasp from you. You’ve never seen a dolphin, only heard about them in passing from fishermen from the coast. They spray water high into the air as they break the waves, moving smoothly through glittering waters. 

It feels so real and warm, the dream bright and full of hope. Happiness. Excitement. You feel what Yoongi pours into the basin, your toes curling as though you can feel hot sand beneath your feet. 

“The trick,” Yoongi explains carefully, “Is imagining everything that would make it feel real. It can’t be just what you see. It has to be what you hear, what you feel, what you smell, what emotions you evoke. You have to do all of these things at once - you have to believe in them all at once. Dreams about real things are the easiest. More complex dreams can include anything you can imagine that humans believe to be fake: dragons, brownies, griffons.” 

“How do you know what to give?” 

“You feel it. Place your hand on the side.” 

Carefully, you lift your hand to the side of the dream pool. You hesitate and look up at Yoongi, eyes wide. He gives you an encouraging nod. You place your hand on the bowl, feeling the warm stone. 

A pulse of energy flows through you. You gasp, flinching a little as you feel the basin come alive under your touch. You close your eyes as sensations flood you: hopelessness, stress, exhaustion. Suddenly, Yoongi’s dream makes sense. He instills a sense of peace and serenity at the beach, of hope and wonder with the dolphins, of rest with the cool wind and warm sand. 

“Amazing,” you breathe, eyes still closed. “This is wonderful.” 

“I’ll do some more. Keep your hand where it is. You’ll feel what it is they feel. Try not to think too hard about anything while you’re connected - let me do the work.” 

Watching Yoongi work can happen with your eyes closed, you realize. You lose yourself in time and space. No longer are you in the Dream Tower. Now, Yoongi walks you through the world.

You enter through dreams, feeling sudden sadness or loss, even heartache. Every dream you encounter, there is profound suffering at the beginning. Yoongi gently sends the pain on its way, observes what each dreamer needs, and begins spinning up images. Sounds. Feelings. 

Rain falls on your face as you stand over the tops of a misty forest. It’s gentle and cool to the touch, soothing. You smell pine and damp earth, giving you energy. Your toes feel the wet grass beneath you, grounding you and making you feel more centered than you ever have.

Wheat brushes the tips of your fingers. You look out into a sea of gold, healthy crops bending with the wind. An azure sky stretches mile after mile, not a cloud in sight as the sun heats your skin. You smell fresh air and hear the grasshoppers buzz among the fresh stalks of wheat, feeling the reward of growing healthy grain. 

A dog runs after a ball. The hills are the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen, the dog dashing up the hill and barking loudly. You feel laughter bubble up your throat and unfettered joy as thick clouds float by. The dog grabs the ball and runs back, its tail wagging and coat shiny. You feel nostalgic and happy to be reunited with a friend. 

Fireflies flicker to life in a forest at night. They alight on the tree branches and your arms, casting gold luminescence on your skin. You marvel at them, spinning in a circle as you look at the dark trees. You smell the maple sap and the bark, you hear the crickets.

It’s just like the woods near your house -

Your house. 

A slice of fear goes through you. You remember the darkness of the woods as Nathaniel tried to drown you, the press of his fingers into your skull. The roaring of the flooding water and the burning of your lungs. The fireflies flicker out one by one and the darkness begins to grow. You’re suddenly terrified. Curiosity vanishes and is replaced with deep fear. 

You taste stale water in your mouth. You smell the smoke of your burning house. You feel water rushing up to your ankles and inching higher, you hear the screams of Nathaniel’s vitriol, you feel your lungs start to fill, the air stars to leave, the roots of the trees grab at your feet-

A sharp yank pulls you out of the forest. You gasp for air, falling backward off of the dais and onto the floor. Gentle hands cradle your face and you hear a deep voice calling out to you, speaking your name through the dull roar in your ears. 

Blinking, you look upward to see Yoongi inches away from your face. His eyes are round and gentle, his hands steady. Warm. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips as he leans over you. A strand of dark hair escapes his bun, falling across his forehead and eye. You don’t know why, but you think it looks dashing. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, searching your face. “Are you with me?” 

“Yeah,” you rasp, lungs heaving. “What happened?” 

His thumb brushes back and forth across your cheek as he sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your face. “You thought of the night that I saved you. Your fear was powerful. Raw. As you started to remember things you grew more afraid and you took over the dream.”

You blink once. Twice. Remember the way that the fireflies suddenly flickered out and how the water started to rush in from nowhere. “I did that?” 

“I didn’t expect you to be such a natural. I had a feeling but… you caught me by surprise and shoved me out.”

“I can do that?”

“When I’m caught off guard, yes. You took control of creating the dream and turned it into…”

“A nightmare.”

He nods. “It’s my fault. I didn’t think you would think that forest looked the same, but I was wrong. I keep… having oversights. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Being human.” 

Silence suspends between you. You’re sprawled on the floor of the Dream Tower with Yoongi hovering over you. His knees are pressed against your hips and his shirt collar is hanging low as he leans, revealing more skin than you’ve ever seen from him. You don’t dare drop your eyes from his, staring at their dark depths.

The space between you is minimal and neither of you move. You hope he cannot hear the way your heart hammers in your chest or sense the way your body crackles like lightning, sparking at his proximity. The nightmare you made is long forgotten, replaced with his touch, his smell, his closeness. 

Yoongi holds your face delicately, like a treasured item. You cannot imagine that he means to hold you so, but the sudden want that licks through you is powerful, your desire for him to hold you like you’re something precious surprising you in its strength. 

“You make me want to get better at it.” His voice is soft, barely even a whisper. 

“At what?”

A gentle laugh. “Being human. It is unfamiliar, but I wish to know more of what it's like. To have more of the instinct.”

“Why?”

He pauses. “Because I’ve lived for thousands of years, and never really had the chance to try.” 

It is a similar sentiment that Taehyung had shared. The thought of Taehyung makes you smile, sitting up suddenly. Yoongi leans back on his haunches quickly, careful not to knock heads. “What?” he asks, noting your sudden excitement. 

“Has Taehyung ever taken you to the Desert Rose?”

“No, I can’t say I’ve been interested. Why?”

You grab his hand. You notice the way he seems surprised, but he doesn’t pull away as you scramble to your feet. “You want to see what it’s like to be human. I know a place.” 

-

Yoongi makes a face as he sips the beer Taehyung has thrust into his hands. You and Taehyung laugh, tossing your heads back with it. Yoongi looks unimpressed but continues to drink nonetheless, his dark eyes scanning the crowded bar. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb. Eyes are immediately drawn to Yoongi wherever he goes. You think everyone must feel the divinity as he walks by them, his power a magnet for attention. Even sitting at the table with you and Taehyung, tucked near the door, people turn in their seats to get a good look at him or pause when they enter the Desert Rose. 

It doesn’t help that he looks beautiful. Air had gotten stuck in your throat when he arrived at the library at the appointed time to meet you and Taehyung to come here. His hair hangs in soft waves around his face, earrings peaking between inky strands when he moves his head. His dark shirt is long-sleeved but unbuttoned at the throat, revealing a strip of pale, smooth skin and his layered necklaces. His eyes are glittering tonight, almost like constellations are held within. 

Yoongi is the night. The black pants and black boots paired with the shirt make him look like a dark prince. Perhaps the son of the moon, even. You notice the way the stares turn from curious to hungry, Yoongi lighting a fire among those around him. 

Jealousy sours your stomach. You hate that it does, but it’s like a second instinct, some sort of possessive monster rearing its head as you avert your gaze when a beautiful man asks Yoongi if he wants to dance. Yoongi shakes his head, giving a polite smile in return before turning away and chugging more of his drink.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous. 

“Thousands of years old and a room full of people scares you,” Taehyung teases, confirming your suspicions. Yoongi’s gaze is thin as a razor. “You should get out more. I’ve been telling you that.”

“Eternals don’t make a habit of walking around the human realm. Our presence disturbs the natural chemistry of the world.”

“Then why did you spend so many days in the wood-”

Yoongi kicks Taehyung under the table. He hollers in pain as Yoongi glowers, making you giggle. Though he’s no natural among the crowd, you can see that he’s trying to fit in. He watches the way people slouch in their chair and he imitates it. Drinks more of his beer, not because of the taste but because it's what people do here. 

Music thrums in the room. There is a crowd of people clapping their hands and dancing, stomping their feet along to the music. You nervously look at Yoongi throughout the night, trying to see if he’s enjoying himself, wondering what he thinks of the place. 

A couple near your table knocks over a pitcher of mead as the man presses the woman into the table in an arduous kiss. You can’t help but watch for a moment, entranced by the way he kisses her as though he’ll die if he doesn’t, as if her lips are the last thing he wants to remember. 

Sensing Yoongi’s gaze on you, you glance at him. He stares at you, drinking you in before his eyes drift to the couple you’d been studying. Embarrassment heats your face as you bring your cup to your lips, hiding behind the tankard as you take large gulps of cider. 

The cider takes the edge off. It makes you feel warm and loose, though you’re still a little nervous with Yoongi’s quiet countenance sitting beside you. 

“Jimin’s here!” you announce excitedly, clapping your hands together when he appears downstairs. Taehyung’s knee bumps into the bottom of the table as he jerks to turn around. “Jimin should meet Yoongi!”

“I would love to.” 

Taehyung groans. “No, please.”

“Why not?” Yoongi demands. “Should I not meet the human that brings my friend here most evenings? Should I not meet the friend of my -” Yoongi looks at you and stumbles over his words. “- my friend?” 

Friend. You’re not sure if the word fits, exactly. But you don’t know what else it is that Yoongi would call you. Friend implies something beyond acquaintances, which you are sure you are. But it fits like an ill-sized dress, hanging crooked on your frame.

“I don’t want you to scare him off!” Taehyung protests. 

Yoongi looks dubious. “Why would I do that?”

“Shut up,” you hiss as Jimin notices you. You lift your hand in an eager wave, beckoning him over. “Yoongi, be nice.”

“I am nice. Do you think I’m not nice?” 

Instead of answering him, you get up to greet Jimin warmly with a chaste kiss on the cheek and a brief hug. When you step back, you see Yoongi’s burning gaze, a tick in his jaw as he stares Jimin down, tonguing his cheek. You hiss at Yoongi and snap your finger to signal for him to drop the severe expression. 

He looks at you and his features smooth out as he rises to his feet lithely, reaching an arm around you. Yoongi startles you when he places his hand on your mid-back as he leans forward to shake Jimin’s, introducing himself. 

The contact is so brief that you wonder if he had done it at all as he sits down. For a moment, you’re the only one standing, staring at Yoongi in confusion as the three men sit. They all look at you expectantly and you plop down suddenly. 

“Are you alright?” Jimin asks, mirth evident in his voice.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, still recovering. It felt like a deliberate touch. Firm, but gentle. Polite, but… something. “How are you?” 

To your pleasure - and Taehyung’s evident relief - Yoongi and Jimin get along fine. If Jimin is put off by Yoongi’s peculiarity, he doesn’t show it. You wonder if he’s used to being around Taehyung, who has his own strange charm and inhuman energy vibrating around him. 

Yoongi says little, but seems comfortable. You watch him as he watches Taehyung, who has stars in his eyes every time he looks at Jimin. He leans closer to Jimin as they mutter about something conspiratorially, giggling behind their hands. Jimin brushes a strand of hair out of Taehyung’s face and the love that blooms in Taehyung’s expression is so evident that you wonder if Jimin knows. He has to know. And he looks like he feels the same. 

When Jimin drags Taehyung up to dance, you encourage them, shooing them off toward the growing crowd of people spinning around the room. Tables are shoved out of the way, chairs scraping to make room for the revelers. You move your chair some as your table is pushed, making the beers tilt dangerously. 

Yoongi grabs the leg of your chair and pulls it roughly toward him. Before you can say something, someone stumbles where your chair just was, toppling into the table next to you. You look at Yoongi with shock and he winks before returning to lounging in his seat, watching the crowd. 

Now that you’re sitting much closer to him, you can smell him. Still, you try to relax, watching as Jimin teaches Taehyung the steps to the dance the crowd is doing. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Yoongi says over the loud voices. “This is nice. I see why Taehyung likes it.”

“You don’t hate it?” He makes a face and you laugh. “Yoongi, you hate it.”

“It’s a bit loud, but I don’t hate it. I like the quiet. I like… solitude. But not always. This is a good break.” 

“So you never just… stroll among the people sometimes?”

“Never had a reason to.”

“But how can you make dreams if you don’t know people?”

“Dreams are inherent to me. They are an instinct. They aren’t born from people. They’re born from something rawer than that. People just happen to dream.” 

You hum, not sure that you follow. Silence lulls between you as the song changes. “This place is so different from anywhere I’ve been,” you tell him. “My mother and father would have hated a place like this where people want so freely and people are so… provocative.”

“Life is provocative. So is nature, and magic. And dreams.” 

“Is that why you’re a god of desire, too?” He nods once, his eyes on you. “Can you… sense what people innately desire? All the time?” 

You don’t ask the real question, which is: Can you tell what I desire when I’m with you? Still, Yoongi shrugs a shoulder. “Snippets. LIke I said, I try not to pry. I don’t think that anyone here needs to be inspired by me to delve into what they want here, that’s for sure.” His eyes darken. “Though perhaps there is one.”

It is not your imagination when he says it. You know that he means you. This you are sure of. You stare at Yoongi, the rest of the room fading away. He stares right back at you, as though willing you to agree, or to deny his claim. Your heart speeds up and you feel the sweat on your neck, the slick on your palms. 

“You said you’d help me indulge.” Your voice shakes when you say it. “How… do I do that?”

Yoongi’s mouth kicks up at the side. He leans forward and offers you a hand. When you just stare at it, he laughs. “Dance with me.”

“Dancing? That is indulging?” 

“You might be surprised.” 

Tension goes taught between you. You feel it sizzling in the air as you stare one another down. Yoongi’s hand remains outstretched, beckoning. Slowly, you put the cup of cider down and slide your hand into his. You’ve done this so many times, letting him lead you somewhere or help you up. 

When Yoongi grips your hand and pulls you to your feet, it feels different than all the times before. The soft, gentle Eternal of dreams has melted away and left something sharper. Darker. Edgier. Your heart flutters butterfly-fast as he leads you to where there are people spinning in tight circles on the floor. 

Yoongi yanks you toward him, pulling you into his chest. One hand loops over his shoulder, your palm cradling the back of his neck, while the other grips his. His hand goes snuggling around your waist, pulling you firmly to him as he ducks his head toward your ear, voice deep and soft as he whispers, “Follow me.” 

You would follow him anywhere, you think. Anywhere at all. 

Dancing is not something you ever recall doing. It wasn’t necessary where you grew up. Most of your festivals in town were a reserved affair and you’d never been to any parties or celebrations. Most weddings were stiff and formal, and not for merriment as much as respect. 

Now, your world turns into a kaleidoscope of color and laughter. Yoongi spins you around the room, his feet smooth and fast. You stumble to keep up at first, but Yoongi is a confident lead, his steps instructing yours, his hands pulling and guiding you as you go. 

Laughter rushes out of you. You cannot help the glee that glitters in your veins. Yoongi’s laughter is like spilled moonlight. You look up at him with a grin, seeing his gummy smile as he dips you suddenly, making you squeal. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You know he won’t drop you but the exhilaration is in your veins as he lifts you back up, crushing you to him. 

Your arms and legs burn with effort as you continue. The song changes and Yoongi lets go and spins you. You go crashing into Taehyung’s arms. He’s a far worse dancer than Yoongi, and the two of you are a mess of tripped feet, trilling laughter and elbows into ribs. He pushes you back to Yoongi’s waiting arms. 

It terrifies you how much it feels like home, like a key sliding into a lock. Your arms go around him as his hands squeeze your waist. You come alive where you touch, looking up at him. He watches you, the shadow of his lashes framing delicate eyes. His mouth is red and soft. 

Yoongi’s eyes dart down to your mouth. Your breath catches and he moves a little closer, pressing his head to yours, noses brushing. The entire world vanishes and it’s just Yoongi, his lips so close you can almost taste them, his fingers digging into your hips. 

Your eyes flutter shut just as someone crashes into you. You scream as you’re knocked hard into Yoongi, the two of you stumbling as he catches you from falling over completely. The crowd goes wild with laughter as a man is sprawled on the ground, laughing and drunk, having lost his balance. 

A breathless laugh escapes you as you and Yoongi straighten, separating a little. The moment between you is shattered, clattering away like pieces of broken glass as you catch your breath and gather your wits. You look around, searching for Taehyung only to see him alone at your table, eyes heavy and gaze lingering across the room. You turn to see Jimin leaning on the bar, smiling at something a woman is whispering in his ear. 

Glancing back at Taehyung, you see him shove away from the table and storm out the door. Yoongi notices this too, but he’s slow on the uptake, his hand still on your hip. You shake off his hold on you and go after Taehyung, shouting his name.

Taehyung is just outside the Desert Rose, head tilted down and shoulders pulled up tight around his ears. When you touch the small of his back, he flinches, gazing at you with tear-stained eyes and a look so crestfallen you feel your heart crack.

He sniffs. “This is why,” he whispers. “This is why I told you we can never be. Humans and dreams - we aren’t. We don’t match.” 

“Taehyung,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say. You open your arms and he leans into you, folding in half as he sobs, breaking down into your shoulder. You hush him gently, holding him tight and squeezing him, trying to pour your love into him. 

Over Taehyung’s shoulder, your gaze settles on Yoongi. He watches the two of you in silence, face impassive. And your heart breaks a little more, realizing the truth of Taehyung’s words. 

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[moved-to-satoruswaifu]

Don’t imagine your F/O. Don’t imagine them tilting their head to the side and saying ‘yeah?’ in a soft, perhaps slightly lower tone of voice. Don’t do it.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch. 4 a day in the life of a hot soccer player

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 4/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 3.4k

a/n. yay for gojo pov chapter! i originally tried writing this from reader's pov but it wasn't really working for some reason so i switched it up.

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

Gojo Satoru was never really the type of guy to be serious to just one woman. He had a sort of rotation of women that he'd go through every couple of weeks. Now wait, before you think he's an asshole, he once tried to have a serious girlfriend in college. But he quickly realized that it's really difficult to coordinate down time. When he's taking an exam, she's calling to ask if he's free. When he's off practice, she's got work. Once a week ended up being all he could really see her. And for a guy with a sex drive as high as his, that just wasn't enough. But having multiple women meant more chances of at least one of their schedules lining up with when he’s free, and bam, he was getting laid on a consistent basis. Okay, now you can think he's an asshole. 

He knew he was a bit of a slut, a manwhore, a player, whatever the girls in his Instagram comments liked to tease him about. But it felt good to be those things because for some weird reason it gave him confidence. It was just a stupid, primal, egotistic, caveman feeling that's probably carved into the DNA of every man out there. He can't help it.

Turns out he just really likes it when people rely on him. He likes it when his teammates entrust him with the winning goal during the final moments of a match, he likes it when women put their pleasure at his mercy during sex, and something within his stupid, primal, egotistic, caveman mind really liked it when you had that intent spark in your eye asking him to help you achieve something for your dreams. 

Gojo lay in his bed, ankles crossed and rested up on a pile of folded laundry at the end of the bed. One of his hands was tucked behind his head that was resting on a couple of pillows, and his other hand was scrolling through his phone.

This weekend’s party was a bit more exclusive with each member of the frat only getting two invites for the list. There were restricted parties like this in the past, and Gojo very rarely used his plus-ones/twos. Most of his friends were already from the frat, and most of the hot sorority girls would be invited by other dudes anyways. But this time, he was considering inviting you.

His mind wanders to that first night he met you at that party. You looked slightly different in person compared to your photos, a bit edgier than the soft persona captured by the candids on your social media that your friends took of you. Gojo scoffs at himself when he remembers how worked up he got over the belief that this random girl he Instagram DM’d was insinuating she would be down to fuck that night, some arrangement where he shows her a damn good time as a reward for bringing her roommate to his friend. It was a pretty sexy scenario in his head. Despite the hindsight he has now, for Gojo that kind of thing wasn’t an insane thing to assume. Excuse him for sounding a bit arrogant, but women tended to blatantly throw themselves at him pretty much everywhere he went. And besides, you were cute, so maybe a part of it was just his wishful thinking, too. 

You were like a deer in headlights at that party. He watched as you looked around the room at one point in the night, searching for something before you disappeared into a hallway. When he finally had you alone to himself in the kitchen, and he realized all you wanted to drink all night was water, the prospect of a casual hookup seemed to be slipping further and further away from his grasp. 

But his chest filled with a different, unfamiliar feeling when you mentioned what you really wanted from him, and he’s been chasing that feeling ever since. 

Right now, he just wanted to see you again. He hated how you seemed to just abruptly leave any time the two of you were together, which has only been twice so far, but still. He wanted to see you in something that wasn’t just a plain t-shirt and jeans (although that was definitely his favorite clothing on a woman most of the time). He wanted to know what you were like when you were a little bit tipsy, maybe even a little bit drunk. Were you talkative? Emotional? Touchy? Flirty? 

Gojo’s thumb hovers over the Instagram chat that had your name on it. He should really just ask you for your number at this point. 

When Gojo clicked on the chat and used it to go to your profile, he noticed you posted some more photos. Just a slideshow of your life recently. Some pictures of flowers you spotted on what looked like a bike ride judging from the shadow, a cake you baked recently for a friend’s birthday, a snapshot of a cat running away in an alleyway. The last picture was a black and white photo looking through a soccer goal net towards a tree in the distance, and Gojo quickly recognized it as the one on UTokyo’s practice field. 

His thumb double taps the post and then he’s back to the page with your messages. He had reached out to you again after Monday's practice saying that the team was doing another practice match on Thursday, which was yesterday, but you mentioned you were busy working on something for a club you’re in.

An iMessage notification pops up at the top of his phone from one of his frat brothers. 

|| 3:12pm ryota the GOATa: gotta finish sending out qr codes. you got the names/insta handles for your invites tonight? or you just not gonna invite anyone like usual? 

He sighs, wondering what to do, when he ultimately decides against inviting you. You were probably busy with something anyways, and he didn't want to experience the disappointment of you saying you can't come if he does ask, fearing that there might be a reason that didn’t have anything to do with an accumulating pile of class assignments. It’s a bit of a cop out, he knows that, but whatever. You very clearly told him that the two of you weren’t friends.

He types out a message that reads yea my homie @ThePope, pls. Also, your mom to which Ryota replies fuck off.

Even though there was no practice today, Gojo felt like he just needed to get out of the house for a bit. There were too many thoughts in his head, most of them about you, and he didn’t like it. He wants to be smooth-brained Gojo that just thinks about soccer and partying. He slides his legs over to the edge of his bed and sits up, inhaling and exhaling harshly, before standing up in resolution and heading to his closet. He pulls his soft cotton t-shirt over his head in favor of an athletic long sleeve and pulls on a pair of sweatpants over his SpongeBob boxer briefs (don’t make fun of him, please). 

When Gojo opens his door, he’s hit with the smell of food cooking and with the noise of two of his roommates, probably Sota and Hide, yelling profanities with video game sound effects in the background. He walks downstairs, pushing his left arm through the sleeve of his shirt.

“Hey, where are you going? We don’t have practice today,” Geto asks from the kitchen as he flips his quesadilla on the pan, spilling a bunch of its contents everywhere. “Shit.” 

“I know we don’t,” Gojo says, tilting his neck from side to side to loosen it up. “Just going for a run.” He extends his right arm across his chest, holding it in a stretch, and grunts a little. 

“Ah, yes, our star player,” Geto muses as he wipes the counter down.

Gojo twists his torso to stretch out his back and releases a slow exhale from how good it felt. “Gotta keep that stamina up,” he says, “for more reasons than one.”

Geto lets out an annoyed sigh from where he’s washing his hands at the sink. They both watch Hide almost chuck his controller at the TV before Sota stops him. By the entryway, Gojo slips on his running shoes and puts his airpods in his ears, then he’s out the door. 

The weather is nice. It’s pretty sunny, a bit hotter than Gojo was expecting, but he wanted to work up a sweat anyways. He taps at his smartwatch and realizes his running app isn’t working, so he shrugs and just decides to guess what running six miles feels like.

As he’s running, his mind wanders to you again. The last time he saw you out on the field, you had a strange expression on your face. It seemed like you were in a rush to leave, which is fine, but it was like you refused to make eye contact with him. Was it something he said? Or something he did? It probably was, he had a habit of fucking things up with people sometimes, but he doesn’t really know what he could’ve done for you to avoid him. Your messages back to him have been pretty curt and weirdly polite, too. 

Somewhere lost in his thoughts, six miles turns into twelve and he’s drenched in sweat by the time he makes it back to the house at around 6PM. Taking two steps at a time up the stairs, he gets into the shower and gets himself fresh, then throws on a black t-shirt, some black joggers, and non-cartoon-related underwear.

He finally checks his phone for the first time after coming home from his run and sees a bunch of new DMs and messages but none were from you. And the fact that he was still thinking about you after running nearly half a marathon had him annoyed. Which is why he’s grateful for the party tonight. Alcohol and sex typically made most things better. 

When Gojo runs into Geto in the loft and asks him about his plans tonight, Geto says he’s got an essay to write so he’ll leave for the house party probably closer to midnight. Gojo calls Nanami, who says he’s not going until Geto gets there because until then there would be no one to buffer Gojo’s fucking idiocracy throughout the night (his exact words). Apparently, Chosou’s still sick with food poisoning. When he checks with Hide and Sota, they say they’re going to go but only after pregaming at a sorority party, which Gojo has no patience for. Todo says he’ll be there from dusk ‘til dawn, of course. He sees a bunch of texts in the fraternity group chat that he has muted, as well as a lot of DMs from girls, asking when he’s going to show up but he doesn’t respond to anyone and decides to just go whenever he feels like it. 

He ends up leaving home by himself at around 11pm, the walk to the host house taking eight minutes. He walks by some other houses that were having incredibly crowded parties, probably for the people that weren’t invited out to this one, and the smell of weed in the air causes him to scrunch his nose. When he walks up the driveway of the house, he sees Ryota at the door, scanning people’s phones and ushering them inside.

“Hey, man,” Gojo greets Ryota with a solid grab of his hand and slap on the back. 

“What’s up, dude.” He returns the greeting.

“Did your mom make it?” Gojo asks. 

“Just get the fuck inside,” Ryota says, pointing to the entrance behind him with his thumb.

When Gojo enters the house, the flashing lights temporarily blind him until his eyes quickly readjust. The DJ had the bass-boosted all the way up to where Gojo could feel the music in his bones and his lips curl up into a smile at the excitement running through his veins. It was mostly dark inside, except for the sporadic lighting from the couple of light fixtures near the DJ’s console, and people seemed to move in slow motion as they were briefly illuminated every other second. 

Gojo hears some people call his name, but he makes it straight towards the back where he knows the drinks are and downs a couple of shots of tequila before he even considers talking to a single person. 

“Yo, dude, you’re here,” he hears Sota say from behind him and he turns around. Sota and Hide are both barely standing up straight with their arms around two sorority girls each. It seems somewhere along the night the two of them had lost their shirts. “Did Geto come with you?”

Gojo shakes his head, making eye contact with one of the girls that was tucked to Hide’s side. “Nah, he’s still working on his essay.” Sota mutters something like lame and Gojo notices the girl miming an obvious blowjob gesture while looking him straight in the eyes. He ignores it and turns around to face the drinks table again, working on mixing himself a drink. He was clearly not shit-faced enough to deal with anything right now.

There’s people yelling in the backyard and Gojo spots Yuuji through the window doing a keg stand outside. He’s about to make his way over there to bear witness too until someone’s grabbing at the back of his shirt.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Gojo fucking Satoru,” he hears a voice call and he sighs, turning around.

Shoko’s standing in front of him, wearing an extremely cropped shirt and a denim skirt, with a couple of her friends by her side. They have their sorority’s symbols drawn across their cheeks in sparkly paint that matches their equally as sparkly makeup. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Shoko fucking Ieiri,” he mimics her with a smirk on his face, “oh, and, uh, friends? Never met you two before.”

One of the girls beside her rolls her eyes. “We’ve fucked like twice,” she scowls, crossing her arms, and then she looks up at the ceiling to ponder something before looking back down at him again, “actually, I’m pretty sure three times.” 

“You’re not the only one with a busted memory, sweetheart,” he says and he’s about to continue towards the backyard when Shoko walks in front of him, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him backwards a bit, the movement causing some of the drink in his hand to spill. She’s standing up on her tiptoes and then clenching the fabric of his shirt in her hand, pulling him down towards her. 

“You in the mood to make out tonight?” she asks him, biting down on her lip, and Gojo’s eyes are quick to watch the action.

“Sure, but later,” he says casually. Again, not quite shit-faced enough to deal with any of this yet. He grabs her wrist and pulls her hand from his shirt then makes it to the backyard, exchanging greetings with some of his frat brothers on the way there, and makes work of the absolutely horrendous cocktail he’s mixed up for himself as he watches Yuuji entertain the masses. 

The night goes on, Gojo getting progressively more alcohol into his system until he’s worked up a steady buzz and finds himself about ready to do a backflip off the patio roof in front of a bunch of cheering people when Geto has to convince him to get down.

“Dude, I’ve literally been here for two minutes,” Geto grumbles. 

Gojo slings his arm around his best friend, half in camaraderie and half for support. “I missed you, man, where have you been?” Gojo drawls in Geto’s ears, clearly a bit drunk, and Geto doesn’t even bother answering him as he’s walking him back inside.

When the two of them spot Sota and Hide by a beer pong table, they make their way over. Gojo sobers up a bit when he realizes Todo isn’t there.

“Yo, where’s the king of beer pong at?” Gojo asks, his speech slightly slurred.

Nanami, who had his arms crossed and was leaning back against the wall, shrugs slightly. “He said he’d come later.”

“But he said he’d be here from dusk ‘til dawn!” Gojo’s whining loudly near Geto’s ear and the dark-haired man winces at the volume. 

“Alright, let’s sit down,” Geto says and the two of them make their way to the set of couches in the center of the living room where some people were chatting, some were (hopefully) sleeping, and others were getting handsy. 

Gojo slumps down on one of the couches, relishing in the comfort, and when he spots Chosou next to him he’s convinced he’s hallucinating. “What the fuck, aren’t you supposed to be sick?”

Chosou shrugs and glances up at Gojo from the screen of his phone, leg bouncing up and down impatiently. “Nah, I was never sick. Just had an exam to study for and had to get out of practice somehow.” 

Gojo’s about to get angry at him but instead he just sinks further into the couch and throws his head back to look up at the ceiling, a sudden wave of melancholy washing over him. He was at this party, alcohol running through his veins, yet there was this feeling inside of him that he just couldn’t shake. It was some type of disappointment, an emptiness, like despite everything going on around him he was still missing something. 

“This seat taken?”

He tips his head back down and sees Shoko in front of him. His line of sight follows the direction of her pointed finger until he sees that she’s gesturing to his lap where he was very obnoxiously man-spreading. 

“Nah, but I was saving it for you,” he says with a grin and she’s rolling her eyes as she takes a seat on his thigh. She seems a bit tipsy herself, giggling at the pinch he gives her at her hip. Ah, yes, Gojo realizes the emptiness he was feeling was probably from the fact that he has yet to get laid tonight.

“Satoruuuu, take me upstairs,” she’s purring in his ear and he shakes his head.

“Jesus, Shoko, relax,” he hisses, already feeling arousal building up inside him. But he himself had no interest in putting any of this on pause. 

The details are irrelevant, but she’s gotten him up on his feet, her hand wrapped around his wrist, and dragging him along with her upstairs. Somewhere in Gojo’s hazed and horny mind, he swears he hears a familiar voice downstairs, one that makes his heart skip a beat in his chest, but Shoko’s busy pulling him into the dark hallway upstairs and eventually into the bathroom. 

Gojo closes the door behind him, watching as Shoko quickly hops up onto the counter, and it’s not long before she spreads her thighs for him to take his place in front of her and start kissing her. Her hands grab onto his shirt, impatient with the fabric, and he starts trailing kisses down her neck as she wraps her legs around his waist.

“Hey…” she sighs when his mouth reaches her collarbone, “d-did you lock the door?”

“Huh? Yeah, think so,” he mumbles against her skin, hand playing with the hem of her top.

Those were Gojo’s famous last words when the two of them suddenly heard the door open, hinges creaking, and in his periphery he sees that it’s opened almost half-way when the movement stops.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” a voice squeaks out and Gojo’s blood runs cold. He turns his head to face the entrance of the bathroom, and then he sees you. 

You, in your plain t-shirt and jeans, standing in the hallway with your hand wrapped around the doorknob, blinking as the recognition of his face registers in your mind. 

Gojo Satoru was never really the type of guy to be serious to just one woman. Yet for some reason, when he sees you staring at him with wide eyes, and with the faintest hint of hurt in your expression, what he was doing suddenly felt so wrong.

a/n. thanks soooo much for reading!

➸ take me to chapter five!

[princessbrunette]

just thinking about some more…obsessive obx boys each having a nightmare about the reader either dying or leaving them, their worst fears come to life…only to wake up and find reader snug as a bug in their arms, smiling in her sleep

how do you think each of them would react?

- 🪸

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

john b is canonically prone to nightmares, so i can see him reacting in a similar way. he’d probably wake with a jolt, instantly looking down to see you fast asleep as he pants, catching his breath. he’d ease you out of his arms, laying you down to comfortably rest so that he can sit up, obsessively running his hands through his sweaty hair trying not to hyperventilate as he thinks about keeping you safe. any sort of danger you’ve ever been in has been because of him, and he knows if anything awful ever happens to you — it’ll also be because of him.

he’s bordering on panic attack when suddenly he feels your hand on his arm, making him jolt once more. you sit up, eyes barely open with a frown.

“hey? wh’samatter john b?” you ask, leaning your cheek on his shoulder rubbing his back.

“just… just a bad dream.” he turns to look at you in the moonlight, taking in all your beauty and it calms him.

“s’not real, it’s okay. lay back down.” you whisper and he finds himself doing what you say, soothed enough to dull his overthinking just for a little while.

jj would awake with a start from his bad dream but instantly be hit with relief, squeezing you tight in his arms and pressing kisses to the top of your head, a little tearful. “jesus… thank god.” he whispers to himself and you stir, using your minute amount of energy to press yourself closer to him, subconsciously telling him how safe he makes you feel.

rafe would have a more drastic reaction, sitting up instantly sucking in ragged breaths with glassy, wide eyes, rolling you over and pulling you to sit up in his arms. you mewl, being woken up from a deep sleep and try and snuggle against him but he shakes you awake.

“hey, hey look at me for a second. wake up.” he speaks and your eyes flutter open, sensing urgency.

“rafe, what’s going on?” you sound so weak, so helpless. it does nothing to reassure him.

“you— you gotta—” he sighs angrily not even knowing what to say. “i’m gonna protect you from anything and anyone okay? if anyone and i mean anyone bothers you, you tell me. that’s — that’s non negotiable from now on, right? you tell me, n’i’ll kill ‘em. okay? say okay.”

“okay, rafe… y’scaring me…” you whine, waking up a little more and he shakes his head.

“there isn’t anything to be scared of, kid. just — i can’t lose you alright? not after everything.”

you sigh, recognising it’s just rafe being rafe and relax, hand coming up to stroke his hair, scratching his scalp.

“nothin’s gonna happen to me rafe. lay down, please.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

[f1rodrigo]

sweet relief | l. norris | part four

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ it's so reckless of me...

summary: in which you fall for your best friend’s teammate and keeping it a secret proves to be harder than you intended. or when all you need is sweet relief the rest of the world fades away. pairing: social media au || lando norris x piastri bsf!reader fc: olivia rodrigo <3 warnings: language

inspired by the song ‘sweet relief’ by madison beer

ALL PARTS HERE

a/n: hi i'm veryyyyy sorry for how long it took me to get this one up but it has a bit more than the other parts did & its currently finals week so the end of the semester is always very busy so i didn't have much time to work on this. hope you enjoy xx

⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。 ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。 ﾟ☾ ﾟ。⋆⋆。ﾟ☁︎。⋆。

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landonorris added to their story

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📍 Tokyo, Japan

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 2,032,987 others

yourusername i don't dream of anyone else...

view all 3,098 comments

user1 SHES IN JAPAN EVERYONE UP

user2 miss girl...this caption...the rumors...is it lyrics...what does it all mean%^&(@&@(!

user3 this caption after all the rumors ohhh my girl dont give a fuckkkk

user4 can't tell if this is her confirming or denying

⤷ user5 ...or living her life and not paying it any mind

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user11 max fewtrell in the likes oh i am Thinking

lilymhe prettiest girl <3

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yourusername added to their story

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liked by lnfour, yourusername, and 643,811 others

landonorris DOUBLE PODIUM!!!!!!!!!! Congrats mate! Thanks @/mclaren 🧡

view all 3,070 comments

mclaren Very good, very nice. 🏆🏆👏

oscarpiastri Well done mate 👊

riabish 🙌

user13 ANOTHER PODIUM THATS MY GOAT

user14 who would've thought... wow i am so proud

user15 mclaren double podium i used to pray for times like these

yourusername conhrsts 😭🧡

⤷ landonorris hmm sorry what was that ⤷ yourusername oh my god i couldn't see through my tears YOU KNEW WHAT I MEANT ⤷ user16 COULDNT SEE THROUGH HER TEARS PLSSS SHES JUST LIKE US ⤷ user17 mom and dad are fighting i dont like this

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liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 643,811 others

oscarpiastri One for the mantelpiece 🏆 and driver of the day too!! you guys 🧡

view all 2,217 comments

user18 SOBBING MY EYES OUT

landonorris Congrats mate!!

⤷ oscarpiastri You too mate! (and i'm not talking about the podium 😉) ⤷ landonorris ...I take it back ⤷ user19 oscar piastri what the FUCK is that supposed to mean

yourusername I AM CRYING LIKE A PARENT DROPPING THEIR CHILD OFF FOR THEIR FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

⤷ user15 yn & lando parents to oscar has now been confirmed

yourusername so beyond proud of you oscar 🥹

⤷ oscarpiastri 🧡🧡 ⤷ user20 cannot imagine how she feels watching him all her life through karting till now and getting to witness his first podium oh my gosh im crying again ⤷ user21 STFU NOW IM CRYING

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liked by oscarpiastri, dan_nigro, and 3,981,061 others

yourusername my new single, 'sweet relief' will be all yours in one week. presave at the link in my bio<3

view all 5,910 comments

user30 BEST DAY OF MY LIFE ARE U KIDDING

user31 love song about lando calling it now

user32 sobbing my eyes out new yn music

user33 BABE WAKE UP YN YLN ANNOUNCED NEW MUSIC

landonorris 🔥

⤷ user34 real

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user34 HIT OF THE YEAR INCOMING

user35 cannot wait oh my fucking god

alex_albon lily and i will be streaming❗️❗️

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tagged:

@allywthsr , @2bormaybenot , @vellicora

[loki-cees-all]

🐊 headcanons…

Picture it: You’re an Avenger. And dating Loki.

Of course, Steve would call an ‘urgent’ meeting on your birthday, effectively interrupting your plans. Loki isn’t pleased.

How will he make sure you enjoy your special day?

The Interruption {Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / Cee and K's Glorious Birthday Bast Celebration Prompt List / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader

Summary : It's your birthday, and Loki has one goal - to make sure you feel like the Queen that you are. So when Steve sends out a mysterious email about some kind of emergency, Loki decides to take care of it before you ever find out about it.

W/c : 2k words

Content/Warnings : Fluff, hints of smut, a smidgeon of angst.

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Loki always dreamt pleasantly while you were near. His bed was a sacred place because of you, where love blossomed and nightmares faded, when laughter replaced tears and groans of pain morphed into moans of pleasure. 

He always slept well while your naked bodies were tangled together, inhaling and exhaling in perfect sync, sharing warmth on cold nights in blissful uninterrupted slumber - except right now, an irritating beeping noise echoed against the walls over his dreams, incessantly increasing in volume and quickly becoming impossible to ignore. 

The sound pulled him from his dreams, and he stirred underneath the weight of your sleeping body against his. Loki liked you there, with your arm draped around his waist, one leg curled around one of his, and your cheek pressed against his chest, completely passed out and without a single care in the world; it made him feel wanted, necessary, alive. 

And you were in a particularly deep and divine slumber that morning, thanks to Loki’s ingenious plan of fucking you senseless the night before. But it went further than just the divinity of being intimate with the one he loved dearly, he just wanted to make sure that you slept long and well on the morning of your birthday. 

Beep, beep. His eyes finally flickered open when he realized it was your phone making that sound, threatening to ruin the first of many gifts he was planning to give you today. He’d reminded you the night before to make sure it was silenced, but somehow, some kind of message was still sneaking its way through. 

Cursing silently to himself, he stretched his arm out to grab the device from your nightstand, moving slowly and carefully in order to not rouse you. And just to be safe, Loki took his other hand and carefully threaded it through your hair to gently massage your scalp, hoping to keep you soothed, relaxed and unconscious. 

You let out an incoherent murmur against his chest as he moved, but continued sleeping peacefully, and so Loki brought your phone closer to examine it. He absolutely despised these things, but a long time ago you had insisted on adding his likeness as an Alternate Appearance to your phone, using the justification that it might come in handy someday. 

At the time he couldn’t imagine that it ever would - Loki suspected that you were just teasing him, trying to rile him up. But as his eyes scanned the preview on the screen, he was secretly grateful that you had: it was an electronic message from Steve Rogers, addressed to the entire Avengers team, to inform them of some kind of urgent matter that required a mandatory 8 am meeting.

A rage began to simmer deep in his soul. Regardless of what this “urgent matter” was - and Loki was sure that the Soldier was overreacting about it - it couldn’t have come at a worse time. Not when it was your birthday, and he had intended on spending the day worshiping you both in and out of his bed…

Loki returned the phone to the nightstand and wrapped both his arms around you, weighing his options. He could feign ignorance - neither of you saw the email because you were too busy loving each other. Or he could flat out tell Steve that neither of you were going to be available today. That it wasn’t your burden to bear…

But as his fingertips brushed against your soft skin and his lungs filled with the scent of your shampoo, Loki knew you wouldn’t be okay with that. You’d want to do your job, you’d want to help - no matter how inconvenient that was, or how much you deserved a break. 

And Loki adored that about you…which is why he ultimately decided he was going to have to fix the problem, whatever it was, before you ever found out about it. 

The phone had read 7:13 am before he put it back down, and Loki knew he had to work quickly. Pressing his lips to your temple and delicately cradling your head, he slowly rolled you over onto your back. You let out a groan of complaint as the movement gently stirred you awake. 

“No, don’t get out of bed yet…” you murmured, frowning slightly as you reached to pull him closer. 

Loki smiled as he settled his weight on top of you, loving the delicate but direct choice of words. He nudged his nose against yours as he spoke softly. “Ah, but I’ve got gifts that need their final touches in order to be perfect for you, darling…” 

You sighed peacefully as you brought your hands to thread through his dark hair. “I don’t want gifts. I just want you…”

“You say that now…” Loki chuckled before giving you a slow, lingering, sensual kiss - one that was designed to lull you into submission. “But you’ll be singing a different tune once you see them…” 

The kiss almost worked, but as your lips moved with his, Loki felt your fingernails gently dragging against his scalp and down the back of his neck. It was one of his weaknesses, never failing to immediately turn him on and get him going. 

He moaned softly, and it turned into a low growl as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His hips began to roll with yours, and there was nothing he wanted more than to spend it inside his bed, inside of you - but he had a mission to accomplish before that could happen. 

Loki steeled his nerves and grabbed your wrists, extracting them from his curls and pulling his lips away from yours. “Vixen…didn’t you get enough last night?” he hissed softly, eyes narrowed in a display of restraint even as he met your playful grin with one of his own. 

“You know I didn’t…” 

“Mmm. You never do, do you?” he murmured as he shifted his weight on the bed, lifting his hips from yours and pressing your wrists into the pillow above your head. 

Your lips parted to argue again, and Loki quickly placed his against your throat, exhaling heavily against your skin as he kissed and sucked. You whimpered in both pleasure and submission; Loki knew all of your weaknesses too. 

“Just give me a little time, darling,” he whispered softly, trailing his lips up to your ear. “Then I promise, I’ll give you everything you deserve today…” 

You nodded in agreement, and Loki smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “Such a good girl, even on her birthday…” 

Your eyelids fluttered open and closed in a haze as Loki rose from the bed and began to get dressed, deciding to do it manually instead of using his seidr, and choosing casual gray sweatpants and a hoodie to further cement the idea that there was nothing to be alarmed about just yet. 

He could feel your gaze upon him as he moved, and he did his best to avoid looking back; he knew your naked form would be twisted enticingly in the silk sheets, your eyes half-lidded with desire as they usually were when you were alone. 

Loki loved that about you, that you wanted him so openly; it was impossible to resist - and that was exactly why he needed to fend off the Soldier’s urgent request for an emergency meeting; you deserved to be revered every day, but you especially deserved it today. 

“I suppose I’ll have to find some other ways of keeping myself entertained while you’re gone…” you sighed dramatically as Loki turned to reach for the door handle. 

He grinned and looked back at you, stiffening at the sight of the demure smile gracing your features and your fingertips dipping between your thighs. “You can certainly get started, dear, but don’t you dare finish until I return…” 

Loki winked before disappearing into the hallway, and he chuckled to himself as he heard you laugh and groan simultaneously. The door clicked shut, and he sighed heavily as shimmering emerald light descended from temple to toe, transforming the unconcerned clothing he had left wearing into his emerald and onyx battle leathers. 

He wasn’t above using whatever intimidation tactics necessary in order to intimidate the Soldier into admitting that he was most definitely overreacting about this so-called urgent matter. 

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Deep down you knew that your attempts to delay or distract Loki from leaving wouldn’t work, but it was worth the try; Loki needed someone to keep him on his toes, and you loved that you could do that for him. But now he was gone, off on some mysterious errand, and even though it was supposedly for your birthday, uncertainty was beginning to creep in. 

Loki was the God of Mischief, after all. Of Lies, and of Deceit. And even though you were sure he’d never do that to you, that he loved you deeply and truly, within every sense of the word, and to the point of needing to create new definitions for it - 

He’d still left you alone on your birthday. The one time you hated being alone, when every solitary insecurity roared its ugly head and threatened to swallow you whole - why was everyone paying so much attention to you today? Why weren’t more people fawning over you? 

How were you supposed to respond to the 20 birthday messages on your phone with genuine sincerity and gratitude? And why weren’t there 40 messages waiting for responses? 

Were you spending the day in a way that didn’t seem like a waste? Were you doing too much? Not enough? 

As tears filled your eyes, you tossed your phone back over to the nightstand. Telling yourself this was silly, you rolled over and pulled Loki’s silk sheets, still warm from his skin and drenched in his scent, tighter around your body and closed your eyes.

Loki would be back soon, you knew that. You were lying naked in his bed, left alone in his private sanctuary to wait for his return; that wasn’t insignificant to either of you. It meant something, it was important, and it was worth focusing on, but at some point it slipped away as you drifted between sleep and consciousness. 

Eventually, the mattress dipped down beside you, and two warm hands were stirring you awake as they pulled you onto your back. Loki’s scent was stronger now, and you sighed peacefully as his lips pressed lazily along your throat. 

“Mmm. You’re back…” you murmured with a smile as he settled his weight on top of you again. It felt so good to be cocooned with him, and you almost forgot that he’d even left in the first place. 

“You know I wouldn’t stay away for too long…” Loki chuckled as he guided your hands to tangle in his hair. “This is where all my favorite belongings are…”

You laughed out loud, and as Loki captured your lips with his, your laughter turned into a deep moan. Your fingers curled in his dark curls, and he kissed you like he’d been away for days instead of an hour, like somehow he wasn’t sure he’d ever make it back to you. 

And it was strange - his lips were cold, and he was shivering too; you’d never known him to shiver before…Your brow furrowed, and as if he sensed your confusion, his lips pulled away from yours. “Something wrong, love?” he murmured cautiously. 

You gazed up at him, studying the conflicting expression etched on his features with your fingertips. “I’m fine - but you’re shivering. Are you alright?” 

He smiled reassuringly, nodding his head towards the coffee table in the living area where two short taupe coffee cups and a small paper bag, presumably filled with cinnamon buns from The Clock Coffee Shop across the street, sat waiting on the coffee table for you. “Well, the café was quite hectic this morning, princess, and it is snowing outside. But I’ll try to be more efficient next year…” 

You smiled at the idea that Loki was already planning on spending next year’s birthday worshiping you again. 

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

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